#i had to put mrs. piggy on my head for the next hour or so. thats how fucked up it got me

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

pros of a wood furnace: cozy home. cozy everything. i can now safely set fires within the house

cons: my cats are so fucking grimy and im in smoke detector hell

#i came out of my room to see letti absolutely Melted on the floor in front of the furnace #i have never seen that cat so relaxed and blissful #and then i Realized. #and then she got up. and i saw all of the ash now all over her fur #i need to figure out a low effort cleaning regiment for the floor surrounding the furnace #or maybe find a way to set up a place that will encourage my cats to hang There near the furnace instead of on the ashy floor #HER WHITE SPOTS ARE SMEARED WITH GRAY. #THIS IS THE CAT THAT LOVES SLEEPING ON MY BED. #i dont even want to think about what her beans look like #stg if i have to give her a bath.... #actually i probably will bc they need to go to the vet soon #SHE LOOKED SO COZY THO 🥺 #absolutely unprompted #and the fuckign. hell on earth experience i had the other day #both smoke detectors going off at once. #that nearly took my out for the entire fucking day #i Could Not Think i Could Not Breathe Properly i Could Not Form Words #i had to put mrs. piggy on my head for the next hour or so. thats how fucked up it got me

[poraphia]

So piggy backing off the Wilbur x actor!y/n what if we’re an actor but we have to kiss someone for a scene and Wilbur is there watching us act if that makes sense 

"One Good Movie Kiss"

pairing • jealous!wilbur x actor! reader 2687 words • 9.4.23 containing • jealous wilbur, reader is an actor, wilbur and reader meet up after a while of not seeing each other. super super sorry to the anon that asked for this weeks ago! I've been putting it off for so long and I just feel so horribly guilty :c my masterlist ~! ღ mrs. mania ღ on Tumblr

“I've spent weeks away from you. What I'm not about to do is watch you kiss some other man when you're right in front of me.”

♡♡♡

“You’re not kissing anyone.”

I raised my eyebrow with a corner of my mouth quirked up, almost amused by his statement, but Wilbur remained silent on the line. I was in my hotel room after a long day of filming. Wilbur had finished his set a while ago, and now he was waiting in his hotel room before his next flight to a different country.

“Will, it’s part of the script. I kinda have to for, y’know, my job.” I noted, plopping myself down on my bed. All he did in response was hum back.

“Well, whatever you say, dear, I just know you’re not going to be kissing anyone tomorrow.” He said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes, not sure if he was joking or was serious. Besides, it’s not like he can just change the script to his liking, right?

Tomorrow Will and the band were going to be flying over to the country that we were filming in for two reasons. One reason was to perform a set for a festival, but the other reason is that with some great negotiating with the director, I convinced the team that Lovejoy could have a feature in the movie. After working with the team for some time, not only did they have a featured song in the movie, but also a scene where they played as a band during the film! I remember telling the band that night, and they were absolutely ecstatic. It was as soon as I got off of work, I rang them in the taxicab back to my hotel.

“Oh, Willll~!” I chimed after Will picked up my call.

Wilbur, who was absolutely groggy after performing, only mumbled when he spoke. “Yes, dear..?”

“Guess what, guess what! Are you with the band? You guys would all love to hear this news.” I asked. With a tired sigh, Wilbur flicked on the camera before outstretching his arm to show him in the passenger seat with the rest of the boys in the back seats. I noticed that through the car windows, you could see it was relatively dark, which was the complete opposite in my case with the bright and sunny sky blaring in my face.

Joe looked half asleep, Ash was on his phone, and Mark looked a bit drunk but nonetheless energetic. “So what did you need to tell us?” Wilbur asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, okay! So remember how I said that I was going to convince the director to feature a song in the movie?” I reminded them. Wilbur slowly nodded in response, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm?” He hummed.

“Well, not only will you guys have a featured song, but also you guys will be playing in the background in one of the shots! Isn’t that so fucking cool?! I’m so proud of you guys!”

Immediately, I saw all the guys sit up with wide grins and look at each other with such enthusiasm. Mark screamed and cheered as Wilbur held the phone close to his face, gasping in awe. “You’re serious?!” Wilbur said. “Like you’re so, so serious??” His mouth then curled into a wide smile before jumping in his seat like a little child.

I smiled, reminiscing at the memory that only happened a few days ago. “Hey, darling?” Present Wilbur called out to me, making me shake out of my thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’m gonna head out now. Get some rest okay? I’ll be seeing you a couple of hours from now.” He noted.

“Oh, yes! I should get some rest now, should I?” I nervously chuckled, scratching the back of the neck. “I’ll see you soon, my love! Text me when you land. I love you!” With some cheesy little kisses through the phone, I hung up and threw my phone onto the nightstand. I stretched my arms above my head, snuggling into the off-white fitted sheets and pulling up the thick covers to embrace my body. My eyes fluttered close, and soon enough, I drifted off to dreamland.

The next day, I woke up practically jumping into bed and throwing on my usual outfit of sweatpants and tank tops. I walked into my bathroom, thoroughly washed my face with my exfoliating cleansers then brushed my teeth to make sure they were as bright as ever. I tied my hair back into something comfortable before slipping on some tennis shoes and leaving my room with my backpack equipped. Once I walked out, I called a taxi for a fifteen-minute drive to our production set.

In the meantime, I opened up my phone to read some missed messages from Wilbur.

Wilby <3: Hey we landed

Wilby <3: so eepy

Wilby <3: see you in six hours ml :)

With a goofy grin on my face, I responded.

You: headed to the studio now. cant wait to see you wilbs :D

I closed my phone and slid the device into my pocket, exchanging it for a pair of headphones as I admired the streets of the city.

Once I arrived, the office was bustling per usual with cameras getting readily in position and screenwriters and editors discussing the process of the movie shots. I made my way toward the breakfast table. On display, there were fruits, bagels, and yogurt cups. I decided to take a yogurt cup and plastic spoon before wandering around the set, examining the different scenes that were being worked on.

Once I finished a lap around the warehouse, I heard the front door open, and it was none other than Wilbur carrying his guitar case on his back wearing baggy clothing and glasses resting on the bridge of his none. Immediately dropping my bag and throwing my cup into a nearby trashcan, I ran up to him, jumping into his warm embrace after what felt like years.

“Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur!” I exclaimed, burying myself in his chest. His arms slithered around my waist as he held me tightly, picking me up ever so slightly.

“(y/n)! I’ve missed you so much!” He twirled me around before placing me back down. “How are you, my love?! Has the States been treating you well?” He ran fingers through my hair as I held on to his wrist, not letting my eyes leave that gorgeous smile on his face.

“Surprisingly well! How about you, sweetheart? Have you been okay?” I asked.

“Well I’m certainly more than okay now that I’m with you—”

We heard a voice clear his throat only for us to whip our heads around. Joe, Ash, and Mark stood there awkwardly having to endure the immense PDA they had just witnessed. Instantly, we both pulled away with a tint of red brushing our faces.

“S-sorry—!” I stuttered. “How are you guys?”

“Hey, (y/n)! We’ve been doing just fine.” Mark held up his drumsticks, resembling a wave. “Were you guys getting ready to film?” He asked.

“Err, well-” I stepped back a bit from Wilbur to direct my attention to the guys. “In about fifteen minutes maybe? The director is somewhere with the film crew, so you guys can talk to him in the meantime. I gotta meet up with the cast in a bit to go over some lines and stage acts.” I checked my watch, realizing I had somewhere to be in just a few minutes. “Just for now walk around and get acquainted with the set. I’ll be seeing you guys later, I promise!”

Giving Will a quick peck goodbye, I jogged over to where the rest of the cast was, and from then on, we discussed our lines and what scenes we would be filming for that day. Some of the scriptwriters joined us as well, telling us how they envisioned each of the scenes.

“So this part is where we show the Masked Woman’s origin when she fell in love and then lost her lover.” One of the writers said, pointing at our papers. “We’re going to have a scene where they kiss while the band is playing in the background just to really feel that teenage kind of innocent love. Make sense?” I looked around, seeing all the actors nod, but my mind was racing.

We were going to kiss in front of the band?

God, I know Wilbur wouldn’t be too happy about that.

“Hey, you’re doing alright?” I felt a hand on my shoulder, only to look up at the hired love interest that I was set to kiss with.

“Oh— Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my boyfriend is the lead singer of the band that’s going to play— Not sure if he’ll be too fond of watching us kiss.” I lightly chuckled to myself, but in reality, I was a little nervous. He raised an eyebrow before turning to a writer.

“Is there a way where we can hide the kiss? So we don’t actually have to y’know— actually kiss?” He asked.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” The writer sighed, tilting her head to the side. “The director is really strict on this. He wants a perfect, loving kiss scene.”

With a defeated sigh, I shook my head. “It’s fine, really. Just wanted to see if there were any cheatways into this.” I said, scratching my neck. “I’m gonna go do my hair and makeup. I’ll see you guys in a bit!” Begrudgingly, I trudged to my dressing room to get my outfit and makeup done. I know on one hand, this is my job, of course, I was going to have to kiss someone. It’s not like I haven’t kissed anyone on a set before! I mean, that was before I met Will at least… Still, I wonder. What was Will’s plan? It’s not like he can improv his way into being the one to kiss me. Unless?

After roughly an hour or two, it was finally time to film the scene. Lovejoy has been recording shots for the montage segment of their band playing as the actors and I have been rehearsing the following lines. But for the most part, it was small talk while watching the band perform. Which was completely fine in my eyes since it’s been so long since I’ve seen Wilbur and the band play live. All of the main actors carpooled into one van and were eventually transported to an outside area. There stood the director, Lovejoy, and the camera crew.

The setting took place at an outside area near a bay. The boys were set to perform at a stage-like gazebo with makeshift speakers and wires trailing along the floor. A little fan was even placed as a prop to refresh the band. I hopped out of the car, approaching the set steadily, unsure if they were still filming or not. Eventually, the director turned to us, greeting us with his signature jolly laugh.

“There yall are! Now, we just finished the takes for the band. Now as they’re playing, we need you two—” He pointed at me and my assigned love interest. “—to stand relatively in front of the stage watching them perform. Then after some deep small talk talking about how much you enjoy the scene, you two kiss! Got it?” Reluctantly, I nodded. I glanced over to Will as he clutched his water bottle, taking a swig but still keeping an eye on our group.

Oh boy.

We continued on with taking scenes. My love interest and I were in the middle of the crowd around us, but given the small venue space, there were only several other people. Roughly, I’d say under fifty people. I stood next to him as we chatted about our made-up lives, talking about experiences we had when we were children, all while a camera glided along the outskirts of the crowd listening to the band.

“Ah, hold on. Are you feeling thirsty?” He asked in character. I chuckled before responding.

“Yeah, actually, it is hot out here. There are some drinks being handed out over there,” I pointed my thumb to the concession stand behind us. “Grab us some drinks. I’ll just listen to the band for now.” I smiled. He nodded, rubbing my bare shoulder before walking past me. Holding back my sigh, I turned to Wilbur. Now was the easy part of the scene where I got to just listen to the performance.

“I’m scum. I’m waste. I’m what.. You want.” Wilbur strained into the mic. I bit my lip, holding back the lyrics I wish I could harmonize with the man. I couldn’t do as little as mouth the lyrics, knowing that the camera was panning to capture my expression. I simply smiled up to Will, and soon enough, I met his gaze looking down at me.

In turn came Ash’s bass and Mark’s drums, revving up to Joe’s solo. Wilbur was the only one not playing right now, but that didn’t stop his theatrics. He swung his arms back and forth, pacing a little in place, until eventually, he descended off the pavilion with a bounce to each step. I looked around a bit, confused and not knowing if this was part of the script. The crowd stepped away, basically giving Will his right of way right in front of me.

“W-Will, what are you doing?” I whispered. In return, he didn’t answer. With one hand on his guitar, and the other cupping my face, Wilbur pressed his lips against mine as Joe’s solo played in the background. A huge blush crept onto my face to the tip of my ears, and all I could do in response was melt like ice cream. I fluttered my eyes closed with my hands running through his damp hair. I was desperate for his taste, something I never realized how much I was longing for until now. What stress I had building up in my system, whether it would be the intensity of filming or missing my family and friends, dissipated just from such a tender and innocent kiss.

Wilbur eventually had to pull away. I opened my eyes, revealing his smug smile, and a wink shot in my direction. “Meet me after the concert, baby, just thought you looked nice.” And with that, he turned around to finish performing the rest of the song.

What.

The fuck.

Just happened?!

Once the band finished the song, the director got out of his chair. “And cut!” He exclaimed. I looked over to see him rushing between the crowd, a joyous look on his face. “That was amazing! From that one take alone I could feel the passion! The love! That’s what we were aiming for!” He turned away from us and waved his hand to his production crew. “Tell the writers we’re going to go a little off-script because that was amazing! (y/n) and—” He turned around to face Wilbur. “Will, was it?” All Will could do was nod with a sheepish smile on his face. “Will, my man! You certainly know how to capture an audience! Alright everyone, regroup for fifteen!” The director turned away from us as the hired audience filed for a break.

I looked over to Wilbur, who looked as shy as ever. I crossed my arms and furrowed my eyebrows, but I couldn’t hide that smile plastered on my face. “So.” I started.

“So what?” Wilbur repeated, playing dumb.

“So this what your masterful plan you were talking about last night?” I inquired. Bashfully he swayed side to side, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe.” He mumbled. I rolled my eyes, a bit amused by his change of demeanor.

“Clingy bastard.” I turned around and headed toward one of the trailers, leaving him speechless.

“What—! Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” I heard him calling from behind. “(y/n)!”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ deeply apologize for just a really shitty thing of writing. I've spent roughly days working on this? Just putting it on and off. I am very eepy. If anyone messaged me or in my inbox I promise ill respond in the morning. reblogs and likes very appreciated! tysm ssososo much for the support <3!!

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #lovejoy #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #will gold #wilbur hc #wilbur soot fluff #poraphiafanfics #wilbur from lovejoy #lvjy #joe goldsmith #ash kabosu #mark boardman #im so sleepy #i go to sleep now #mimimimiii #poraphia is fucking eepy

[buck-yyyy]

Maybe a little thing about little Mike and Will cheating on their homework from each other but like, something really stupid like having to talk about their families and Mike writing about Joyce of something.

eee okay i finished it!!! it’s kinda different from the original suggestion, but i hope you like it :)))

tw// period appropriate homophobia (nothing severe or direct, just comments)

~~don’t have access to my computer rn and can’t figure it out on mobile, but i’ll add a cut here eventually~~

mike sat at his desk, elbow on the desktop with his hand on his forehead, propping up his head. he stares at the singular piece of paper that’s been sitting there, intending to be written on, for the last hour. at the top, a single sentence lists the instructions for the assignment: draw a picture of your family. write a description of what your family is like. it’s a simple assignment, especially since he’s already in fifth grade, and yet he has no idea where to start. his family doesn’t feel like the kind you’re supposed to write about- a dad who does nothing but sleep and work, and barely pays attention to his kids or wife, and a mom who is so busy taking care of the kids that she barely has time for herself. it’s not the picture-perfect family that mrs. greene wants, and she should’ve known that. why couldn’t she just know that?

mike threw down the pencil, frustrated, and went to kick over his chair, but stopped. he glanced back up at his desk, with his walkie leaning against the wall. he gently set the chair back down onto the carpet, and slumped back into the chair.

picking up the walkie, mike stared straight ahead, not daring look at the stupid sheet of paper that’s been causing him so much trouble.

“will? do you copy?” mike said hesitantly, clicking the talk button. the two of them set up their own private channel months ago, a place where they could just talk for hours and hours without dustin or lucas chiming in to tease them. they’d always been closer than everyone else thought they should be- so they set up the channel to be able to be close by themselves.

“mike? what’s up? over,” wills voice chimed through the radio, making mike jump.

“hey, uh- have you, um. finished the assignment for mrs. greene? over,” asked mike, grimacing. he knew will of all people would understand, but that didn’t erase the fact that he didn’t like asking for help.

“yeah, why? over.”

“what. um. what did you put on yours? like who did you include? over.”

mike dared open one eye, and prodded at the walkie, waiting for wills response. he knew that will would be having the same problems as him- lonnie and will had never had a good relationship, and it only got worse once lonnie left. his closing remarks before leaving the house were to call will and jonathan ‘to think, both of my only sons, and they’re a pair of fucking qu-‘ before joyce had shoved him out the door and locked it behind him.

the walkie crackled and will finally responded, clearly nervous.

“i put, uh, me and jonathon next to each other, and mom next to jonathon, and uh. on my other side is you. i- i hope it isn’t weird or anything, i just. it felt empty with just the three of us, over.”

mike was stunned into silence.

“no, that’s- that’s great, i was actually gonna do the same thing, over and out.”

mike picked up his pencil, and hesitantly drew a little stick figure of himself. next to him, he put nancy, with a frowny face. she may be his sister, but the night before she yelled at him for taking the coins out of her piggy bank for the arcade- so, frowny face. next to nancy, he sketched out his mom, and then his dad, with a little speech bubble that said ‘zzz’ in it.

he looked down at the paper, gnawing on his lip. he knew they were his family, and he loved them, but it felt incomplete. his mom was always busy, his dad didn’t care, and nancy was the typical annoying sister that used to be cool but now she’s ‘growing up’ or whatever his mom said, so now she won’t play with his action figures with him or dig holes in the backyard just for fun. it didn’t feel right.

mike slowly picked up the pencil and added another figure, standing on his other side. a little boy, a bit shorter than mike himself, wearing a wizards robe and a tall purple hat. will.

he didn’t care if it wasn’t what mrs. greene specifically asked for, or that dustin and lucas teased him about it the next day, or that when his mom eventually found it, she seemed concerned and whispered in hushed tones to ted about “that byers boy and mike” and how they seemed to be just a bit too close.

will meant the world to him, and he wanted everyone to know.

#stranger things #byler #my writing #takes place before the show #tw homophobia

[double-hoe-seven]

AFC Richmond as boyfriends

Here’s a lil headcanon collection of our favorite himbos as boyfriends.

I did it again for the staff (: AFC Richmond Staff as partners

A/N: Definitely didn’t put everyone but these were my top ones and it’s 2 AM so imma leave it here.

Sam Obisanya

The absolute sweetest man you have ever met

Such a softie, very concerned about making sure you’re happy and comfortable with whatever choices you make together.

He always picks the most random times to surprise you with things; showing up at your work randomly for lunch or with coffee/tea, random little souvenirs from his away games.

He’s always putting himself second and sometimes you have to remind him “hey, babe, you can do things for yourself, you deserve nice things too.”

Just, compliments galore with him. He’ll always find a way to compliment you on something.

The most cuddly person ever, he loves public affection (hand holding, piggy backing, hugging, kissing if it’s not raunchy, etc), he really just likes showing you off because he feels like the luckiest man in the world to have you.

He takes his time with your relationship, letting it bloom and grow at it’s own pace.

There aren’t many fights between you, hardly ever, the last “fight” you had was because you couldn’t unanimously decide which dog to rescue. The solution? You adopted both, now you share a one-eyed Jack Russell Terrier named Starro and a three legged German Shepherd puppy named Harry (Pawter. He was so proud at his pun when he showed you the then 3-month old puppy.)

Again, just the sweetest, more romantic man you’ve ever met and ever will meet.

thesexisgoodtoo. hesaverygentleandgivinglover

Isaac McAdoo

Man’s stubborn.

I mean it, he is as stubborn as a mule.

I’M DEAD SERIOUS, he once pouted for 5 days when you accidentally ate the last Rolo in the flat.

But he’s also romantic in a sort of rugged way?

He won’t go shopping with you but he knows what colors look best on you, he knows what styles look good on you, and he has your sizes and shades memorized.

Bear.

Mr. sometimes-crank-teddy-bear over here.

He’ll say he doesn’t want something but he will eat half of your food if given the chance. If you step away from your food to get a drink or something, there will be a good part mission when you get back.

Its a tradition to go on a date the morning of a game, and snuggle up with a movie after the game.

You have had more than a few drunk texts from him, all of them equally funny and full of sexual innuendos.

You don’t address his Rolo addiction. It could be something much worse anyway.

Richard Montlaur

So many visits to the goat farm he was raised on!

He really has to drag you back to London after visiting his parents because you don’t want to leave all the precious goats (and you and his parents get along famously).

You spend alternating holidays with each others families (except for Bastille day, you always spend that either together or with his family.)

There are always roses in your shared flat.

It’s a constant battle over his facial hair.

He has a grudge against the way the English make French pastries.

He has a habit of falling asleep on the couch or in uncomfortable positions and then wondering why his back or neck hurts.

Little spoon.

He’s teaching you French.

This man is a smooth operator, master at flirtation and romance. He’s good at planning romantic dates and outtings.

Dani Rojas

You 100% believe his mom when she says he was born caffeinated.

One of your first dates was a Mumford and Sons concert which was an interesting experience.

Soft boi hours with him. He’s a lil puppy dog.

Does this man ever sleep? Rarely.

He rises with the son and wants to get the day started immediately but he’s mostly letting you sleep in now.

He LOVES trying new things, exploring new places, generally having new experiences.

His absolute favorite thing to do when he’s not training is playing football (or any game, really) with the kids in your neighborhood. They all love him.

He’s a sweet boyfriend, not as sweet as Sam but he’s a close second.

You alternate who plans date night. You split the chores 50/50 but divvy it up if one of you is sick or has more work to do.

There’s so much alcohol in your flat its unreal.

You usually go to sleep before him but he has a bad habit of throwing himself into bed and partially waking you.

He makes the best breakfast most mornings.

And don’t forget the trips back home to visit his family in Guadalajara.

After a long day of training, he loves just laying down with his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair.

Jamie Tartt (Season 1)

FUCK NO

Jamie Tartt (Season 2)

On your first date you got drunk and bonded over shitty fathers.

Not that either of you really remembered the next day, you were both too hungover to immediately recall the night.

His love language is kind words.

At the start he needed a lot of reassuring that you did care about him for who he was, warts and all.

He’s slightly awkward when it comes to romantic gestures so most of the date planning falls on you don’t mind.

He still has some high maintenance behavior but he’s working on it and you’re proud of how far he’s come from the prick he used to be.

Your fights are usually over petty shit like where to eat for dinner or what movie to go see.

He will not hesitate to buy your feminine products for you. He knows your preferred brands and sizes and what treats you like when its that time.

He’s good at those rigged carnival games, the many little stuffed animals in your closet can attest to that.

He talks in his sleep. It’s all nonsense.

He has a soft spot for the neighbor’s cat (and cats in general).

Roy Kent

Rugged.

He’s great to snuggle up to.

The man is honest to boot. He doesn’t sugar coat anything at all.

10/10 times he will go down on you if asked. He’s a giver.

He is the heaviest sleeper in the world. You don’t know why he bothers setting alarms.

Phoebe has a room at your flat and spends so much time with you both.

Many nights have been spent reading different books on the couch together.

He has to clean the drains since 75% of it is his.

Fuck is a very versatile word in your home, used daily.

Not the most romantic man alive but he has his moments.

Date nights are usually relaxed and proper but sometimes you can make the old man have a little fun.

He growls at least a dozen times a day, it’s his main response.

Jan Maas

My beloved

My sweet, beloved Jan who can’t/won’t use a filter to save his life.

He’s blunt in everything and sometimes it makes you want to slap him.

Jan is still getting used to English ways and mannerisms.

He has good intentions but sometimes needs a little help with wording.

He likes going on Aquarium dates.

The more tired he is, the clingier he is and it’s too cute.

Once after a game he plopped onto the couch next to you and basically tried to curl up in your lap.

He can make amazing pancakes.

Thats it though.

You’ll do most of the cooking if you value living in a flat that’s not on fire.

He’s a sweetheart though.

Mostly good intentions though.

Doesn’t mind nudity and had to quickly be reined in by the team. Not at home though.

At home he can easily be found lounging in boxers and a t-shirt while he sips coffee.

He knows what he’s doing.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker​

#Ted Lasso #Jan Maas #Isaac McAdoo #Dani Rojas #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Sam Obisanya #Richard Montlaur #AFC Richmond Himbos #AFC Richmond #AFC Richmond Greyhounds #Emotional Support Himbos #I love them all your honor #Jan Maas my beloved #Sam Obisanya is baby

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Angel With A Shotgun

Summary: The Novak family was big talk,but not nearly as famous as the L/n’s. Togther they can be unstoppable,so what say family ties like guns,drugs,money,and murder?

Paring: Michael!Dean x Male!Reader

1900's Mafia/Gangsters AU

A/N: this is a Micheal fic,but its him in Dean's body so like...idk its the same snake different skin. Also Chuck is referred as Charles

Warning:Blood,guns,knives,gore,torture,swearing. Homophobic comments like just a few. No proof reading

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The Novak's that a family that was one of the most feared yet respected. The way people talk about them down south you'd think they were inspiration for the Bible itself. A man by Charles or Chuck Novak is the head honcho with five sons to help him run is kingdom.

The youngest is Castiel he was probably the nicest of all his siblings,but also the most protected with three other brothers, Gabriel is the definition of trouble and if he slipped up head could easily get lynched good thing he puts that silver tongue to work. Raphael was one of the more head strong,but sadly he was shot when several rivals attacked at on of their bars. Lucifer is the second oldest and the most hot headed with a temper to match the black sheep in his family if you will, then last,but not least Michael he was something else entirely the play boy,a demon is a flat cap and tailored suit.Now that the Novak's have been introduced the world's most feared gang the L/n's is one family not to be fucked with.

(Father's name) leading his kingdom no...empire with his wife (Mother's name) and togther they had only two sons. The second born William and the oldest M/n. William wasn't much involved with the criminal side of the business,but his big brother was the prime example of a gangster. No one besides the L/n gang has seen him he stays out of newspaper coverage and that only allows his terror to run ramped. A man with no face and a title of Satan himself made the oldest Novak just a little timid when he found out. "WHAT THE HELL!!!" Michael threw the newspaper on his fathers desk in anger the older man looked up after glancing at the paper. "I'm due to be wed to a L/n and none the less a man! I can be hanged for so much as saying I do and it IN THE FUCKING BULLETIN!!!" He was seething with hatred in every word. Michael will admit it hurt a lot finding out he was to be wed by the slight disgust look he got while grabbing the paper before getting coffee. "I wanted to tell you sooner,but you were handling something. There's no way out of this a deal was made before you were born me and (Father's name) have been waiting for his wife to bare a girl or your mother to do the same,but your mother's untimely passing and (Mother's name) having gone unfertial our oldest are due to wed." Chuck sighed taking off his thin wired glasses.

"You two were once friends,but I guess time got rid of those memories." Chuck sat down his spectacles down looking at his son. Michael turned to father with shock evident in his eyes. He was friends with M/n L/n the man with no face. Everything was too foggy. The shorter male stood up to a shelf in the office and grabbed a small match box opening it looking around before pulling out a picture. Handing it over to his son he sat back down. "He was one of the only people you'd go to when you were a baby. Heavens he was probably the only person you liked,but when he was five and you were three the fact that our business was centered around blood and there's on bonds it became a fight,mafia versus a gang, and you guys saw eachother less and less till around the time Luci was born not at all." Chuck sighed. The young man was in shock a little boy maybe two or three was cuddled up to a baby in a pale blanket that he remembered was blue fully awake and if the picture could come to life he's sure the boy was humming all while rubbing the infants back.

"No ones seen a picture of him in twenty six years and he was on his fathers hip with a match box car. He's in town and should be coming for dinner here by himself in three days time. So til then keep your brothers in check we don't need them to shoot the young man with a stray bullet." With that Charles dismissed his eldest son as the green eyed boy stormed off in a huff. Michael started to do digging. M/n L/n was in headlines weekly in every post known to man from shootings,assassination,and gangbanding to rumors of his love-life,what he wears,and people claiming to have met him. One thing caught his eye that made him falter. "Gangsters M/n L/n Captures Murderer" that when he started reading the full paper that crumbled a bit due to age. Maybe he's not so bad the guy he caught never saw a courtroom,but met a far worse end all because he caused problems with his people. It was admirable the brunette knew he'd do the same,but not just for anybody. Marriage wasn't settling well with him that didn't mean it felt completely wrong.

One day later

Looking in the mirror Michael watched as his maid adjusted his tie while another smoothed the wrinking in his white button up and vest of his three piece suit. As the oldest he had business to handle people to keep in line. When their hands left his body they scurried out of the room rushing to be down stairs before him. His dress shoes met the floor as he grew closer to the door his youngest sibling ran up next to him. "Can I come,please!" His raven head of hair and doe blue eyes almost made him cave,but with a firm look he gazed down at him. "Sorry little raven,but I have things to handle another time." The pout on Castiel lip didn't move as he held up his hand his pinky out. "Promise?" Interlocking with the ten year olds pinky. "Promise." With that he happily skipped away to play in the garden.

Out the door he went. His flat came on his head and coat thrown over his shoulder his effects tucked in his waistband. Screams caused him to smile as he stood before the butcher on payroll. He wore the man's leather apron having abandoned his tailored suit jacket in the front of the deil. "Were is my money?" He cut the man some more as he continued to scream in pain the white fire from the rusted meat hook in his shoulder flaring with each jerked motion. "Help please!" He yelled all of a sudden in the past hour he hasn't called for assistance. "No can do." A deep voice said behind the oldest Novak turning around sharply his green eyes clashed with e/c. The man looked like anyone off the street his shoes tattered and clothing dirty form labor no bet. "I came for my five notes." The didn't seem fazed at the torture. "Fuck you gypsy scum!!" The pig of a man responded as the tall s/c man crept closer gripping a knife Michael was using. "I just unloaded a load of meat in the summer heat that would give the devil a sweat and all I asked for my effort was five notes nothing more nor less so cough of the money that you clearly owe both of us or I'll carve it out of you and make you squeal like the piggy bank you are." His tone dropped further the blade under the man's fat chin and the Novak felt aroused at the threat. This guy meant every word when the hanging man spat in his face the off color of snuff and blood made the normally clear liquid seen and thick. Let's just say Michael sat back crossing his legs in a attempt to compose himself as the man hit pitches not even the girls in the church choir could master. The heavy weight man forked over the money then some I got my full and he ended up giving the mystery man a hundred notes if he made the pain stop after pocketing the money he shot the man.

He turned around and began to leave when the brunette stopped him. "Wait! I give you my thanks friend he was stubborn for a hour almost" The h/c man turned looking at him giving a smile tilting his head for the Novak to follow as he stepped out the deli. Scrambling he walked down the street next to the man their attire clashing a well tailored suit next to rags that looked more like a potato sack then cloth. "Glad I could help a fine looking fella like yourself." His flirtatious grin caused butterflies to run ramped in Michael's guts. As they walked down the street they slowly moved from the good side of the town to the slums. No cars drove on the gravel a fire hydrine spat out water for all the children playing around it,women hung up clothes on wire between tenements and men looked more like the mysterious gypsy next to the Novak. Speaking of the mystery man he went to each crowded tenements door and knocked the women or young men of the families came to the door and he handed over twenty notes each. The women cried and clung to his tall figure and the boys almost men looked at him in wonder like a hero before running off to tell the adults of the place. "Why did you do that?" Michael asked as they walked out of the town. "You worked for that money and gave it all away." He was confused he's never seen a man work for a family that wasn't his own.

"They need it more. Schools out the children don't get meals and the men work hard to feed them at least a meal a day. I'm alone here no lover or children with the energy and muscle to work." Novak wasn't sure before,but he was sure now this was love and it felt better then any harlot he could spend the night with. "Thats very admirable of you." Michael complmented which was not a normal accuracy. "It was truly nothing to admire,handsome. I'm not saying I'm amazing,but sometimes I'm decently above average. That's what people need someone decent enough go care."

Before he knew it they were back on his side of town and getting closer to the business. "It's been a pleasure,Mr. Novak." The man dripped his head as he turned to leave somewhere. "You know who I am and I don't even get a name." He turned back around and got closer to him his chest pushed up against his till he was pinned to the wall he leaned down his lips so close to his face just out of reach. "I'm N/n,but you can call me the man of your dreams." Michael almost leaned up to peak his lips when the warm body pulled away taking with it the lust filled tension. N/n turned and left out of sight that night was full of the man tossing and turning dreaming of the e/c man that made him feel high as the clouds above. N/n smiled as his men drank around him he finally saw his baby boy all grown up and he's taking what's his this time.

Two days later=Six Hours Before Family Dinner

The buzz of the New Yorker coming to Kansas was the rage. Any man that was new in town was watched like a hawk by commoners and the Novak's. Michael was no longer looking forward to this marriage he didn't want this man no matter who he was. N/n stole his heart like a petty thief and ran away from him. No one in Kansas knew who he was a s/c skinned,h/c haired,e/c eyed gypsy was all he had to go on no last name just a image that burned bright in his mind. Michael sighed as he left his office and went down to the bank he needed enough cash on hand to throw away on booze and maybe angel dust. People parted for him like the red sea and he easily got money when gun shots went off. The teller in front of him fell to the ground wounds ridding his body and Novak turned to see men...no boys with guns.

"Everyone get down on the ground. We've come only for the money we won't hesitate for blood as well." The group chuckled as the leader smirked people shook as they easied to the ground all except Michael who stood tall. "Ah! If it isn't Michael Novak no men to protect you now." A man he didn't realize came behind him hit him over the head with his gun causing him to fall to his knees. "Pathetic." The band of thugs leader grabbed the Mafia bosses chin looking and the blood coming from his brow. Someone stood from on their knees a flat cap covering their hair and a long trench coat that was only slightly open. "It would be in your best interest to leave,boys." They all train their guns at the man. "Why's that,you motherless bastered?" The man turned his gaze upward deadly sharp e/c orbs looked at him and Michael was in shock it was N/n. "Cause I have twelve guns ready to blow holes in you and your men." After his words ten men stood up all wearing the same clothing flat caps,overcoats,and suspenders with a Tommy on every man except the leader. The cowardly man looked frightened looking around keeping his gun on the s/c man. "I only count ten I still have the upper hand." N/n gave a devilish smile that made Michelle gaze on love struck and excited for what's to come. His gray trench coat hit the floor and two sawed-off shotguns in each hand. "Upper hand you say?" He pulled both triggers the left one killing the man sending himself flying back and the right killing the man behind Michael blowing his brains painting the tan walls this made the others fire as well. The bodies of the criminals and one civilian litter the floor.

N/n sent the men off to get the people out as he walked up to the bleeding Novak. "Thank you." His green eyes gleamed making the standing man give a grin as he held his hand out to help him up. "Consider it a gift from M/n L/n." The gleam disappeared from his eyes his soon to be husband was in town has been in town and set his men up to keep him safe. "Now if I'm not mistaken you have a dinner to get ready for,pretty boy." He takes the handkerchief out of his waist coat dabbing the blood away. "Will you be there?" Michael voice sounded weak so full of hope. "You can count on it. We'll be seeing eachother alot more." The man stood up and quickly left and not a moment later Mafia men came in running tending to the boss. Looking longingly at the piece of cloth (Your Initials) were sowed into the reddend white square of fabric.

Family Dinner was about to start the Novak's sat at the table Charles sitting at the end his three eldest sons to his right while his youngest sat to the left two spots were available one across from Michael and the other on the opposite end of Charles. A maid came in the dinning hall and cleared her throat. "The L/n's are here." Two young men came through the door one taller then the other the shorter of the two sat across from Michael while the other sat at the other end of the table closest to Michael and the other man. Charles smiled at them both and Michael was in a state of shock. "M/n been a long while hasn't it?" The oldest Novak looked at the man infront of him waiting for a response when the man he thought to be just a gangster working under the L/n's answered. "That it has Chuck. Sorry father couldn't come he had some other business to handle." N/n or M/n now to Michael's knowledge said before placing a hand on the man beside him. "This is Benjamin or Benny my right hand man don't mind him." The man gave a nod of acknowledgment his blue eyes piercing. "Heard about the blood bath at the bank quite impressive from what Michael has told me." A side smile and a teasing look was turned the mentioned Novak's way. "Saw low life scum trying to rob the place and touching what's mine,their little toys they call guns were child's play compared to my men." M/n sent a wink addressing the men hitting Michael from behind.

"Are you a knight that saves people?" The youngest asked his blue eyes wide in wonder. The s/c males eyes turned to the child a warm smile gracing his lips. "Sometimes when I want to be." A bubbly giggle rang out. "You saved Mikey making him your prince." Those words caused different reactions from all the men. Gabe covered his mouth trying not to laugh at his older brother,Lucifer grinned leaning over to his brother. "Did he have to kiss you sleeping beauty?" He chuckled lowly making kissing noises in his ear,Micheal was beet red as he couldn't bear to face any of them,Chuck smiled looking at his son and son-in-law,Benny nudged his boss sliding something to him while everyone was distracted. "Yeah and I'm gonna make him my king and take him to my castle." M/n leaned towards the boy and whispered in his ear. "We'll ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after." Castiel was gobsmacked as he gazed at his brother all giddy he was gonna live a fairy tale like in all the books their mother use to read. "Um if you'll excess me. I need some air." Micheal stood up and not long after M/n followed when given a reassuring nod from Charles.

The garden of the estate was beautiful in the moonlight and it wasn't hard to spot the oldest Novak on a bench on looking the pond that reflected the night sky. "You knew the whole time who I was." Micheal didn't look up at the man as he sighed. "Yes I knew who you were...we were once closer then the stars and the skies itself." The L/n sat next to him on the bench looking forward. "Chuck knew as well." Michelle turned in shock at that statement a goose chase for nothing. "He didn't know what I looked like now,but letters everyday asking about you seemed to do the trick." Those e/c eyes turned to look into those apple green ones. "Learning from a young age that in you grasp was the person you were due to wed was shocking I almost hated you,but the moment you grabbed my finger as if I'd slip away made me realize it can't be so bad." M/n held out his hand palm up so the younger male rested his hand in his grasp. "I was afraid at first you'd hate me. So I swore to protect you always. Some of my men live here with their families and they keep me posted. Just last year a rat was found on you door step admitting his faults."

Micheal remembered that the maids came rushing to get the family and a man bloody and beaten spilled his guts about planning to cross the family having been hired by a rival Mafia to get information to attack them at a weak state. "I know this won't mean munch to you know,but maybe at some point you'll be happy to carry my last name and call yourself my husband." In M/n hand that wasn't interlocked with Micheal's he opened a box revealing two wedding bands both were silver while one had a gold trim and the other had a f/c trim. "No matter what,Novak,I'll be there when yiu need me through it all most of the times guns blazing." M/n chuckled lightly taking in a deep breath. "Just ponder on it,pretty boy,I'llbe here waiting." as he slipped the ring on the silent man's finger before doing the same with himself he gently kissed the top of his head as he stood up and left wanting to give him space. Micheal smiled at the ring that perfectly fit his finger. The one man he felt attracted to was his guardian angel always there no matter what.

Lifting his hand up he kissed the metal band as a laugh left his lips. "My angel with a shotgun."

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A/n: Second Male reader and I had to spell check for almost 50 she/her in her so I think I got them all lol.

@spnquotebingo

Quote: "I'm not saying I'm amazing,but I'm decently above average."-Blacklist @spnquotebingo

#dean winchester #micheal novak #Micheal!Dean #chuck shurley #lucifer #castiel #gabriel #peaky blinder au #oldtime #spnquotebingo #supernatural #micheal novak x male!reader #male!reader #gangster!reader #mafia!micheal #strangers to lovers #arranged marriage #love at first gore #love at first murderer #gay #m/m couple

[vminity21]

Promise Me | pjm

Pairing: Actor!Jimin X Actress!Reader, ot7 featured, friendshiptolovers!au

Word Count: 17, 280

Genre: fluff/soft/angst/smut

Warning(s): mega-angst, family rivalry, eventual smut, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, nipple play, mild language use Rated: 18+

Summary: You and Park Jimin, two best friends who grow up together, pursue each of your careers in acting. Even after a horrible misunderstanding which then leads to losing contact, the two of you never give up on your dreams. Nor, do you give up on each other. 

Credit to: @suhdays​ for making such an awesome cover!

He relies on his elbow while he slides to lay on his side, beat up converse crossing at the ankles while the loose scrape of his jacket sounds when greeted by the hardwood floor; his cheek brushes your shin once he makes himself comfortable. Your arms are folded across the tops of your knees where you rest your chin, staring at him fondly as you wait for his cue to speak, "You know you can trust me," he flashes a full smile- eyes disappearing into crescents causing your heart to melt at his overwhelming beauty.

"I know, I just... It's not you, it's me," you say, the cliché line sounding believable coming from your lips. Looking towards his clasped hands in response, he nods,

"It's not you, it's me... I've said that plenty of times in my life,"

"So, you understand me," you muse with the raise of your eyebrows hoping your stare exuberates your flirty side. When he returns to peer up at you, his thick lips poise with a slight twitch as if he's conjuring up a reply,

"Come here," he tilts his head up while you maneuver yourself to reach him- lips lock in the most passionate mold, and when he moves to where he can easily pull you closer, his kiss almost makes you forget where you are. Your hand trails to tangle with his blonde strands, getting lost in the movement he makes while he leans back, pulling you with him as previously practiced-

CRASH!

Jumping at the ear-piercing sound of shattering glass, wide eyes stare at the culprit of your piggy bank that fell from the pedestal he happened to lean against for support. Gulping, coins and dollar bills sparsely decorate the floor with the jagged pieces, but none of that is the reason why your heart is pounding with intense fear. There, lying in the jumbled mess of a pile is a couple of ID cards to cover your real identity.

He stands to his feet slowly, taking careful steps toward the muddle.

"I- I can-" You begin, trying to gather an explanation- watching him shuffle up the cards when a façade of shock covers his expression.

"What- what are these?" Anger darkens his eyes with the subtle rise of his voice.

"I can- I can explain-" tears brim the moment he halts your words by holding out his hand.

"No. Don't. I think I've seen enough," he tosses the cards onto your bed before stomping toward the door. Jolting to your feet, you mirror panic,

"No, Sam, please! Wait, please!"

Chasing after him, he spins around, "We're done, Kylee," he removes your hand that happened to reach his shoulder, "Or is that even your real name?"

"CUT!" The director, Steve Aoki, calls and with accomplished smiles, you and Jimin turn to face the cast and crew, "Wonderful, wonderful! Absolutely astounding!" Steve applauds, congratulating the pair of you while the two of you step away from the set. "I know this movie will make it to the big screen if the two of you continue performing like that!"

"Thank you, Steve," Jimin slightly bows forward with a sweet grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He slips his arm around your waist with pride, "What can I say? I have a great co-star!"

"Ah, the chemistry!" Steve exclaims.

"Well, thank you to the both of you," you gleam with flattery, leaning into Jimin's side with the tint of a blush heating your cheeks, "I'm having a great time."

"We'll film more scenes with the two of you tomorrow. Right now, we need to film action scenes with the stunt doubles," Steve quickly kisses the side of your forehead before walking off, "Take five, everyone!" He shouts, clapping his hands to disperse the workers into a break.

"I must say, I'm really enjoying this movie with you, Chim," you compliment as he leads you to the refreshment table. Bottles of water sit in perfect rows in front of the snacks- cheese cubes and crackers tempting to relieve your growling stomach.

"I can say the same to you, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin reaches for two waters and hands one to you in which you take a few sips once you screw off the lid. As crazy as it sounds, Jimin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Born to wealthy parents, a couple years after you came your sister. From the day you learned how to speak and understand the world around you, a dream was created that revolved around the career of acting. That's all you've ever wanted to do, and in elementary school, where you got to experience your first taste of this dream, you landed a role as Mrs. Scrooge in the Christmas play. Since none of the young boys tried out for the part, they changed the character to a woman the moment they discovered your talent. After your performance, you received numerous compliments that you were beyond grateful for, and since then you knew, acting was your definite calling. Sure, you had only been in fifth grade, but you loved being on the stage. It gave you a new perspective of every character you played- a new way of seeing life played out before you behind someone else's eyes. The stage – you were in your comfort zone. There, you felt home.

You had spoken to your parents about your dream to find that they were thrilled about your hope in acting. Your mom had warned you though that you needed to be patient; landing a show or movie role could be an incredibly hard task. Promising to be patient, like any kid would have, you kept your eyes peeled for any announcement of an audition. First, you started small- your mom had found auditions for commercials, and that was when you officially began the acting business. Three commercials down, and then you attempted in auditioning for TV shows which you hadn't had much success, and you wore the face of a broken-hearted girl. You figured you would never be good enough for the big screen with how everything was panning out, yet one day, auditions were being held in your city for a romantic comedy that was going to be filmed in the same spot also. A young girl was needed that would resemble the main actress in order to accomplish flashback scenes. Of course, you begged your mother to take you once you received the news.

Sitting in the waiting area the day of, your mother had driven you and your sister all the way to the location, and it felt like days when in all reality it had been three hours before your turn was called. The audition line was packed, and your sister had been growing anxious, wanting food or water, anything that would keep her entertained. Your mom comforted her by handing her a notebook and a pen from her purse, "Here baby, draw on this, okay?"

You remembered seeing a girl similar in age to you exit into the lobby with a confident smile. Your heart rammed within your chest as your sweaty palms rubbed against your jeans. Each child had been handed a script to study in the time leading up to this moment you were anxious to begin. C'mon... You can do this. Your eyes shot up in the direction of where a door opened, "Next!" A lady with long, dark hair smiled at you kindly when she caught your timid eyes, and out of habit, something you even did at doctor visits, you turned to your mother as if to ask for permission to follow what seemed to be a genuine woman.

"Go on," your mom said softly, "I believe in you."

Comfort eased your countenance and you left with a smile in determination of needing to nail this audition. If your parents, believed in you, then you knew that you could do it. The squeak of the chair sounded the moment you rose to your feet soon finding yourself inside the audition room where the only thing you could hear was the light thudding of your heartbeat. A red cloth adorned the table before you, where four judges remained seated. One male with gray hair chewed on the back of his pencil before looking up at you behind thick-rimmed glasses.

"How are you today, Miss-" He looked over at a clipboard lying in front of the woman who led you to the audition room, "[Y/N]?"

"I'm good, how are you, sir?" You put on your best smile with pure genuine though your hands quivered at your sides.

"Good," he sounded cheery for that second, "Okay, Mrs. Yeun is going to read the lines which will be spoken by the character, Will." He gestured briefly to the left in introduction of a lady holding a clipboard, "And after she finishes her lines, that's when you'll obviously speak. Start your first line when you're ready,"

Looking back, you're sure he must have repeated himself a million times that day with each audition, yet you still felt as though you were the only soul surrounded by strangers though many mirrored the same feeling. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes while your fingers curled into your palms- releasing the moment you exhaled- gradually opening your eyes once you imagined yourself as the character you were supposed to be.

"Will!" You exclaimed whilst envisioning the highlighted lines you studied thoroughly- waving your arms frantically in the air as if to gain the fiction boy's attention, "Will! I- I found it! I found the treasure!"

"You did?" Though the voice of a woman read the part, you still pretended to see a messy haired boy with a galaxy of life behind his almond eyes while he rushed to see what you claimed you had found, "By golly, you did!"

The man then wanted you to read more of a serious scene between your character, Rose, and Will. Trying to think of sad things to keep your expression gloomy, forced tears welled within your eyes just enough to make your character compelling which resulted in applauding judges bidding a slew of congratulations after jotting down a few notes.

"We'll reach out if you make callbacks," the man nodded once and that's all it took before you ran out of the room with a smile from ear to ear. It took only a few days before you received a call back in which you were able to audition a second time but in front of the actual director of the film. You returned to Rose, the character you had grown to love already. This time, it took weeks before you had a callback, ending in nights of nervous tears that maybe your dreams wouldn't come true after all- your parents reassured you despite the inner angst of wondering the same as you, and told you not to give up no matter what the circumstances.

It was the call that changed your life forever. Dancing in the kitchen alongside your mother who was stirring the batter for some cupcakes, you remember as though it was only yesterday, small fingers gripping the device before greeting the person on the other end.

"Is this [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]?"

Your mom mouthed 'who is it?' when she caught the way your lips had parted in confusion at the male voice you couldn't recognize on the spot, but you answered, "Yes, sir," anyway. It was the screaming in excitement that nearly knocked the bowl out of your mother's hands when you heard the man confirm the hope you've so desperately held onto,

"Well, [Y/N]! I am thrilled to say that you made the part of Rose!"

Arrangements were then made- the company in charge of the movie rented a home for your family to stay in while the movie was being filmed, and considering the duration of how long a movie can be to make, your mother began to homeschool you to keep you from falling behind. On your first day of work, the cast members had gotten together to review the script. Your mother was hesitant to drop you off at first without her being by your side, but with the assurance from the director of your safety, she reluctantly agreed to let you go. Teary-eyed from the anxious feeling pounding in your chest, you walked into the room where a table full of adults greeted you along with two teenagers scrunched next to three empty seats. Not one soul seemed close to your age just yet, but you were politely introduced to your fellow castmates which relieved you enough to promise yourself everything would be okay.

"Hi, you must be Ye-jin!" The voice of a young boy rattled behind you causing you to gasp softly before whirling around to face your intruder. Dark hair swooped across his forehead where almond eyes presented eager, brown irises that beamed with kindness; his wrinkled light blue t-shirt was loose on his tiny frame as well as his jeans, and he was not much taller than you from what you observed.

"Oh no, sweetie!" The surrounding table erupted in frilly laughter, "I'm Son Ye-jin!" The most lovely woman you had ever seen gushed at his widening smile.

"Oh! Well, I'm Jimin! Park Jimin!"

"Well, the two of you take a seat. The director will be here any minute," a handsome man nestled beside Ye-jin gestured toward the empty seats you and Jimin waltzed to occupy. A few minutes of chatter filled the room while your eyes scanned the scene before as any child would do when uncertain of what would be happening next, but that's when a poke on your shoulder disrupted your stares,

"What's your name?" Jimin asked the second your eyes timorously moved to meet his.

"[Y/F/N]. [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]," You replied, "And you're Jimin,"

"Yes! I play Will! You must play Rose,"

"I do!"

The director and producers filed into the room before any more conversation could be continued, and for the next hour, the plot of the movie was further explained, though now, being an adult, looking back, you understand the synopsis much more than when you were ten years old first hearing it. The main characters discovered a treasure when they were children, unraveling secrets that could be worth a fortune. When the couple became adults, though had lost touch throughout the years, they never forgot about the treasure and the two individually set out to find it yet again. Unexpectedly, they bumped into each other and a love/hate relationship ensued until they found what they were looking for.

You and Jimin started filming different scenes together over the next five months after the script had been explained and reviewed. The pair of you became inseparable, growing closer with each scene finished. There was never a day that went by where you hadn't begged your parents to let him come over just for the two of you to practice your lines for whatever scheduled time for filming was planned next. Your father would bring home ice cream whenever he got off work to surprise you, your sister as well as your newfound friend, and you will never forget Jimin's melted chocolate smile or the way the ice cream would drip from his chin onto whichever shirt he'd claim was his favorite. Throwing a fit of giggles, he would chase you around the yard until he'd catch you- tickling your tummy until you took your outburst back. He also loved drawing with your sister, something he wasn't very good at, but he liked giving her company to prevent her from ever feeling left out.

Whenever the cast and crew had days off, Jimin would return to his hometown and you never could shake the loneliness you endured without him around. Though your sister enjoyed drawing or watching a movie, you more so preferred being outdoors, or practicing your lines which had been a daily chore since you became a part of this movie project, and of course, when Jimin would return, the pair of you would be driven to set to get back to work.

One particular scene, one you will never let be forgotten in your heart, is a moment where Will and Rose made an oath to be best friends forever. You and Jimin were directed to a swing set where the two of you took your seats, slightly swaying forward while the cameramen stood where assigned. Powder was dusted upon you and Jimin's faces to finalize everything before the yell of, "Action!" was voiced.

"You know, Rose?" Jimin became Will almost instantly, a talent not many ten-year-old children can perfect, but from what you remember, he had and has continued to blow minds away even from the beginning of his career. His expression was serious while his gaze remained on you as practiced. "I need you to promise me something,"

Looking at your black slippers, you noticed the swings were edging simultaneously, but you kept your focus solely on the words you were about to speak, "What is it, Will?" You tried to pull off your best curious face.

"I mean promise, even if you get tired of playing checkers with me,"

"Yes," you urged.

"And, if you get tired of playing tag even though you're always 'it,'"

"Yes," you dragged the word length in attempt to feign impatience.

"I mean you have to really promise me,"

"Okay, Will! I really, really promise," the wind calmed just enough to where your hair stopped tickling the sides of your face. Jimin hopped off the swing while his footsteps paused to face you completely. Even though you both were in acting mode, there was something serious behind his umber eyes that only you could see. One of the cameramen moved to film the side angles of you and Jimin's faces in order to capture the scene the way it had been imagined. Sometimes, with the camera being so close, it was hard to ignore, but at that moment, you were too absorbed with your character and Jimin's eyes to even glimpse in the camera's direction.

"Promise me that no matter what, we'll be best friends forever," the blurred sight of Jimin's pinky finger carefully raised in your line of vision, and for dramatic effect, you were told to count to three before your cue to say your line,

"I promise," you curled your pinky and locked it with Jimin's while a shy smile became present upon your lips, "Best friends forever."

"CUT! That's a wrap!" The director had said, but you vaguely remember that. All you had on your mind was the moment you and Jimin had shared. Though your lines had been written from a script, the two of you meant every word. That's why the scene had seemed so believable because there was truth in it.

Jimin was your best friend since that very day, and you pursued your dreams and have landed roles in plenty of hit movies since moving back to your hometown seven years ago. You're now a pretty well-known actress, but others find you humble in the fact that you never seem to show it off nor let the fame get to your head. Being seen in public has become one of caution, yet you adore every fan that comes your way asking for an autograph or a picture just so the memory of meeting you can be burned into their hearts forever.

Your dad, after your first movie, was transferred to officially work at a better job that happened to be in the same city that Jimin and his family lived in, which prompted your family to move being your mom as well as his became very good friends. You attended school with him at this point which he guided you due to you had been growing used to homeschool since your first movie. It was safe at the time to roam the halls of school- you and Jimin never became really famous, but your popularity gained with the pupils once joined the drama club resulting in auditioning for every musical or play the school had to offer. So, did your partner in crime, Park Jimin.

"You're doing it again," you snap back to the present with a sharp shaking of your head to dissolve the thoughts now scattering into your subconscious. Eyes clearing, you realize you've been zoned out for quite some time considering the subtle crease of worry tinged within Jimin's gaze.

"Sorry, Chim. I'm kinda-"

"Dazed," he finishes your sentence- his pink lips pressing into a tease of a smile.

"You know me so well,"

"I do," he winks taking a sip of his water bottle- swishing it around before swallowing, "Want to go out tonight? My schedule's clear for once,"

With busy lives of movies, sponsorships, premiers, cocktail parties, and anything revolving around this world of being on the go, it's hard to truly find the time to spend together which is something you've forced yourself to accept. But, miraculously, tilting your head, you comb back through your memory to realize you are, indeed, free this evening, "I would really like that, Chim. Thanks," you smile, excited to spend time by his side without cameras rolling in both your faces.

"No problem," he slips his hand in yours, carefully scanning behind you to confirm that not one person is watching. His warm fingers intertwine with yours while he leans closer, plush lips nearly tickling your temple, "Besides, I miss spending time with you," he whispers, you repressing the obvious tingles spreading across your skin- you turn in the direction of where the exit is visible, him following suit though hands remain locked.

"You're spending time with me now," you tease.

"You know what I mean," he rolls his eyes, yet his smile remains so wide, you feel the elevation of your heart flying. You love his smile, everything about him makes your head spin into a dizzy world of happiness. He's one of the biggest heartthrobs in the world; girls go crazy with his presence being in the same room as them; and, with many knowing him and his six best friends like the Bible, they don't really know Jimin like you do. It's the same for you, too. You love your fans more than life; you love reaching out to them on social media- signing at cons- meeting them in public when recognized and hearing the endless compliments on how wonderful you did in whatever movie has been released where you're the star of the plot. But as many times as he's said it, Jimin will always be your number one fan.

The fan who knows you.

Starring alongside him in the recent movie the pair of you have been working on was intimidating at first. You're not sure on how the press will react, or fans, or... the world. Jimin landed the role of Sam and nearly begged you to try out for Kylee who would in due course be the love interest for Jimin's character.

"Please! I'm begging you! You'll love it! It has action in it!" He nodded quickly while a ginormous smile with the shimmering pearl of his teeth nearly blinded you- his hands clasped together beneath his chin before he popped up and down in desperation, "Steve Aoki is the director and when I mentioned you to play the female lead, he freaked! He agreed that you should do it! C'mon [Y/N], please! You'd be brilliant!"

"Is this another excuse for you to kiss me again-"

"So, what if it is," Jimin's hands unlatched, "Are you complaining?"

Though it was merely a tease, your chest heated with a deep shade of red- your head shaking incredulously as you placed your palms upon your hips. You dragged on about another minute with skeptical eyes before lifting your hands in defeat, "Okay, I'll do it,"

"YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jimin grasped you in his arms while he spun you around- laughter being the only sound filling the space of his apartment. When you auditioned, you landed the role on the spot which led to Jimin whisking you into the air out of a manner of rejoicing. Your family cheered you on as well, proud of all your successes in the career you've accomplished. After skimming through the script for Kylee, you called one of your good friends, Maeve, thrilled about your new job. Maeve had played your best friend in a movie about five years prior, when you were nineteen, resulting in the two of you becoming real friends instantly.

"You already know I'm going to be front row when it's finally released," she said. The plot is about a young girl, Kylee, whose parents are spies and so is she. But a fatal accident happens that causes her family to go into hiding, and one boy's father had to pay the price. Jimin's character, Sam, is the son and had seen the face of Kylee's father and figured out the last name he had used when his mission had turned into a mistake. But Sam doesn't realize who Kylee is until he sees the ID cards in her bedroom- which is the scene you and Jimin had officially filmed nearly twenty minutes ago.

The conversation with Maeve then turned into how things had been going for her- how her boyfriend wouldn't take the hint that she wanted him to propose to her, "I don't understand why he's so blind! Like, do you love me or do you not? It isn't that hard,"

"Ah, boys," you snickered, "Shame, shame, shame,"

"Speaking of shame. Don't you have to kiss your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, Mae. It's just for the movie," your words came off nonchalant despite the nervous tension that traveled throughout your body, and there were some things you haven't found the courage to admit to Maeve just yet. Besides, it wouldn't have been the first time you and Jimin kissed.

Daydream grinning along with the squint of your hazy eyes becomes apparent while the memory leaves you.

"What?" Jimin chuckles, turning to face you fully once the exit stands between your frames and the outside world. Your heart skips a beat from the way his beautiful smile stares down at you, and deep down, you wish you can tell him that, but the pair of you have been friends for so long, you're uncertain if making these feelings known is a good idea. Despite everything the pair of you have been through, you can't help but wonder if a relationship will bring you closer, or just tear your hearts completely apart. And, even now, years later, you're not sure if you can handle losing Jimin again.

"Nothing," you reply tenderly, eyes checking to examine his worn-out converse he has had since high school, "Just admiring your... fancy footwear,"

"Hah!" He laughs once, laying his head back, "I already told you, I'm going shopping today. Besides, I need a new outfit tonight, so wear something pretty," he pulls you in for a friendly hug, rubbing his free hand slightly on your back, each of you still holding your water bottles, yet you maneuver enough to nuzzle your nose into his chest.

"Since when do you care about what I wear?" Your chin moves to plop upon his chest while your eyes peer up at him with the arch of an eyebrow, pulling your lips into a goofy, tight grin.

"I don't," Jimin chortles, "But I know you do," it's the way he brings the tip of his fingers to your forehead tickling your skin to move a strand of hair so he can see your eyes clearly, "You look pretty in anything,"

If your heart isn't already combusting enough, it takes everything in you not to kiss him right then and there, and with a small huff in frustration, you pull your arms from his frame to then rest by your sides. "Alright then... pajamas it is,"

"See you later, [Y/Nickname]," Jimin tries to say between laughs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your cheek. The old nickname makes you giggle as you watch him step beyond the exit. Memories from high school present themselves almost immediately gracing the strange feeling of being sixteen again in your Junior year and auditioning for the spring musical where you and Jimin had landed the lead roles. Jung Hoseok, a mutual friend the pair of you gained, congratulated you both with a huge smile many knew him for. You played a fairy who happened to be in love with a human prince and of course, you and Jimin not only had to sing but had to dance, too, which led to Hoseok practicing dance moves with you two in effort to help.

Overjoyed was an understatement though dancing had always been something to hold you back. Jimin is a phenomenal dancer- raw talent to the point he makes it look easy with the way he poises his body so effortlessly upon the stage- swinging his limbs to the beat of the music, emotion etched on every inch of his face. You remember the endless pressure that seeped into your skin building anxious fingers that clasped tightly together when you were listening to the script Mrs. Lee had written.

Saying quick goodbyes to your castmates, the reminiscent disappears for a fractioned moment while you gather your items before sprinting to the limo where your driver, Stan, awaits you. Shouts of hundreds of fans boom instantaneously at the appearance of you leaving the set. Security surrounds the area in case of any danger, and though you reach to open the door, you turn to wave with the best Red Carpet smile you can muster- blowing a kiss to add to your appreciation.

The limo holds a haven you've grown to adore since your fame took off. Shutting the door, you slide to rest your head against the tinted window, politely greeting Stan before your eyelids flutter for the crave of sleep.

Jimin came over countless times just to practice dance steps; every now and then, Hoseok joining, despite the chagrin that haunted the crippling blushes dawning your cheeks. For the last musical number, the Grand finale, Jimin had to lift you in the air by the waist with you posing your limbs exactly how Mrs. Lee demanded leading Jimin to spin you around during the growing intensity of the belting harmonies before returning you to your feet. It hadn't been easy- something you'd grown to learn especially with the helpless moments of him firmly gripping your waist right when you'd jump sending the two of you tumbling onto the ground in bouts of breathless laughter. After weeks of attempting this one lift you couldn't seem to perfect, your parents happened to be out of town one evening for taking your sister to an art gallery about an hour's drive away. Your mother had been a tad iffy with leaving you and Jimin alone, but you assured her that it would be fine- just because he's a male didn't mean that she couldn't trust the pair of you to behave being you two had simply been friends for years, and nothing more.

Once your family left, Jimin arrived, setting the music in preparation for the mini rehearsal you'd been dreading for the thousandth time.

"Okay," you exhaled, carefully placing your hands upon his shoulders, "Now, lift me," Jimin obeyed, hoisting you as high as he could with a swift grunt escaping his pressed lips. His fingers dug into your sides unintentionally, and before you realized you'd closed your eyes, excitement showed in the widening of your smile- he was holding you up! Finally, longer than ten seconds you remained there,

"I. Got. You," Jimin said between clenched teeth, until suddenly, his arms shuddered beneath you ensuing the shape of an "oh" that formed on your mouth.

"GAH!"

Jimin fell backward onto the couch- your side bouncing off the cushion for your gluteal muscles to meet the wooden floor. Stunned, you'd never seen Jimin's eyes so enlarged, but before you could gather your bearings, you blew at loose hairs that were static over your eyes,

"Ouch."

"HAH!" Jimin let out a high-pitched, one-syllable laugh, already covering his mouth with both of his hands to stifle the chuckling, but it was no use. Clapping a few times, he buried his shoulder into the couch while a breathy snicker escaped your side smile. Tears flooded your eyes from the hysteria of the moment- springing to your feet to then fixing your wrinkled shirt.

"Okay, okay," you breathed, trying to resume composure just enough to stop giggling at yourself, "Let's do this one more time! Chop chop!" Hitting your hands together like how Mrs. Lee tended to do to receive her pupils' attention, Jimin pranced to plant his feet in front of you, repositioning his hands on your waist, "Wait," you paused, concern abruptly covering his eyes while he waited for you to speak, swallowing, you began, "Chim Chim, I need you to promise me something," Lips in a firm line, you held his gaze. It was hard to be serious at times with your best friend, but for right now, you rejected from breaking.

"Anything," he nodded once, searching your stare, lips parted, and realizing how close he was sparked a strange desire that you never wanted to reveal before.

"But you have to really, really promise me,"

When a knowing smirk twitched on his lips, his eyes now held the memory that you were trying to remind him of, "Okay,"

"Even," you continued, "If I love beef bulgogi a little more than I probably should. And-" you paused for effect.

"Go on,"

"Even if you laugh like a maniac and I can't take it," teasing had always been something you both loved to do, and bowing his head with more laughter, he returned even closer than before- his warm breath brushing your cheek.

"Alright, alright! I promise! I really, really promise,"

Eyes still locked, you slowly raised your pinky finger up to him, investigating his expression letting nothing but the sound of the starting air condition fill the space,

"Don't. Drop. Me,"

A soft chuckle enhanced his smile causing a pitter patter beneath your chest, while you joined him. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth- something that he does when he's really tickled, and the sight of it made your heart swell in ways you hardly understood. How could someone have such a strong effect on you?

"First off, I prefer Kimchi stew,"

"Oh, you. Ham!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Jimin reached for your hand, hooking his petite pinky finger around yours to conceal the promise you had forced him to make, "I promise I won't drop you this time," he twirled you once like a gentleman, placing his hands back on your waist once you faced him.

"1, 2, 3!" Jimin, with all his might, boosted you into the air, immediately spinning you around. Now think ballet, you reminded yourself, holding your arms with elegancy. After four twirls, Jimin effortlessly set you down and overwhelmed with pure exhilaration, you couldn't refrain from rejoicing, "We- we did it! Jimin, we did it!"

Right then, you kissed him. Cupped his cheeks into your palms and pecked his lips. You hadn't been thinking entirely straight, but it all happened so fast that it took a second for you to comprehend. Hushed. Silence engrossed the room to the point that your heart throbbed in your temples mingled with the growing heat on your reddened skin- perspiration clammed your palms, yet the only thing frightening your state was the attempt on not panicking though you knew deep within your soul that you'd never regret it. Gulping, your eyes fell to the slow fall and rise of Jimin's chest- his gray shirt showing the iridescent silver pendant you gifted him for his past birthday staring right back at you.

You just kissed your best friend.

Jimin stood there, questions swarming full circle within your mind; feeling distraught, your lips pressed together to prevent the tears burning your nose. You remember figuring that he was angry with you, hence why he couldn't invoke any words to speak. But, unexpectedly, gentle fingertips lifted your chin, your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, but that's when your eyes met as if meeting for the first time, the innocence of the moment not once lost while you anticipated the sight of his nervous expression lowering to yours. You held your breath, eyes closing, every inch of the world disappearing. It was just you and him as it'd always been.

He kissed you. He kissed you right back.

With shivering arms, you wrapped them tightly behind his neck while he moved to encase you closer to him, bodies pressed into a blanket of warmth, you never wanted to uncover from. Feelings you had denied time and time again were showing in that kiss with Jimin- a surreal image you never dreamed you would experience, yet here he was, wrapped in your arms- lips moving to relock with yours so lovingly that your mind was rotating. Nothing could compare to the soaring of your heart, especially sharing something so passionate with someone you had grown to love so much, and this new feeling, one you'd never quite endured ignited a curiosity you couldn't withhold any longer.

The kiss grew aggressive, breaths increasing while dazed eyes remained shut, and though track of time had been misplaced, you no longer cared. Hands pressed against Jimin's chest, he gradually stepped backward until the back of his calves greeted the sofa- breaking the kiss, he swallowed anxiously, eyes never leaving yours- collapsing onto the couch before you propped either leg beside him in a perfect straddle. Snatching his kiss rapidly, your palms held his face while he finicked with where to place his eager hands, gliding up your back in awe of how beautiful you were to him.

You left him completely and utterly breathless, and you wanted this moment to last forever.

Everything had been going perfectly until your parents walked in-

SLAM!

The loud sound of the car door jolts you awake as you blink through the mild darkness. Previous memories fade for now, swiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before thanking Stan for the ride. The white mansion stands tall beyond the gate where you punch in a code to then proceed onto the property. It appears your mother is not home momentarily, where as your sister and father are visiting an art show in another town, giving you time to prepare for whatever Jimin has in store for you later this evening.

There's a feeling of relief when kicking off your shoes, parading up the spiral staircase toward your closet that waits for your attention. Sifting through the rack of dresses, you close your eyes to randomly select from a hanger in a mechanism to prevent you from being in disappointment; yet, you find your shoulders dramatically dropping when you peek to see what is now hanging from your hand. You're uncertain of why you feel the need to judge every article of clothing you own, and you figure it has to do with impressing a guy, but you are aware that Jimin will accept you for who you are no matter what, so why are you so worried?

You love him- you wince, because that's something you are still struggling with confessing even though it has been blatantly clear since you were sixteen years old that you are wholeheartedly and irrevocably in love with Park Jimin. And, that never changed even years after losing him.

You remember that night like it was yesterday, the very first time you and Jimin kissed. Caught in the moment of what the pair of you secretly dreamed of with no recollection of how much time had passed. No bad intentions were going to be followed through, honestly no other thought from kissing him was even considered for you; all you cared about was how you never wanted him to leave.

But, your mother, unfortunately, assumed the worst.

There wasn't even a chance for you to stop what had already begun, it was too late- your parents walked right into the sight of you lip locked with your best friend, prompting you to immediately jump off him. The gesture was so quick that a slight headache thudded, and all that was flooding your widened gaze was your mother's horrified expression. She happened to be the first to enter the door while your father and sister lagged, luckily missing the already humiliating scene that nobody would ever want their parents to see. With gritted teeth, your mother's icy glower said enough, but she still voiced for Jimin to leave. Him flashing you an apologetic look while he stumbled to gather his things. Your father had no idea of what was happening until he heard your mother shouting at you for over an hour.

"I thought I could trust you!" Your mother jabbed a finger at you, pacing back and forth in front of you while you wailed into your pillows. "I can't believe you betrayed my trust!"

"I've already told you I was so-sorry-" You choked, wishing nothing more for this feud to end, begging the universe to turn back time, so you could have anticipated of when your family would have returned home- saving you and Jimin from this shame.

"What if we had run an hour late, huh!? For God's sake, [Y/N], you're only sixteen!"

"Mom! It-It wasn't like that!"

"Well, it sure looked like it!" Tears brimmed her eyes, because her heart was just as torn as yours, battling with what she should do as a parent, but also inwardly understanding what it was like to experiment in falling for someone at a young age. Something she hadn't really shared with her children. She had left the room for quite some time, trails remaining damp upon your cheeks before your mother returned with firmly crossed arms.

"Mom, I promise, it wasn't my intention," your voice broke, trying to gather whatever explanation you could, but she stopped you.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but I talked to your father and we came to an agreement. You will finish out the school year here, but once it's over, we're moving back home."

It was like your world shattered all at once in so many different directions, and there was no way to describe the abrupt halt of your heart mirroring in the way your eyes expanded in sheer dismay. "No! No, no, no- Mom, what about Jimin!? I can't just leave him!" The pain etched in your cries haunted your mother more than you'd ever know, but at the time she was doing what she assumed was the right decision.

"That's the point, [Y/N]. You're not allowed to see Jimin, speak to him, or even think about trying to see him. I've already spoken to his mother,"

"But- but what about the play?" You panicked, desperation clinging within your words, not wanting to process what was just demanded of you.

"I don't know. Right now, I'm too upset to decide."

It was the worst night of your life. One thing you never expected throughout your friendship with the one person who mattered most to you, was losing Jimin, especially knowing that once school ended, you would move back to your hometown, far away out of his reach. Your cellphone was already locked in your parent's room, and any form of technology, you would no longer be in possession of if your mother could help it. Bawling uncontrollably, you cursed fate for taking away what could have been.

The spring musical was the only time you and Jimin were able to truly see each other amongst rehearsals; and the night the play began, the pair of you performed with all you had, trying to mask the hurting as if it hadn't existed, portraying as though all was well when really your world was falling apart. Even when the evil fairy sprinkled dark magic upon the Prince's Kingdom, Mrs. Lee flew her fingers speedily along the piano enhancing the volume, imaging the chaos felt beneath your chest. The Prince and evil fairy battled it out until the enemy was defeated, the piano softening to a more pleasant sound that eased you enough to force your face into a loving grin.

The cast crowded around the both of you, but you hadn't noticed, because the only person you longed for, getting lost in his shining eyes was Park Jimin's. "Fairy, my love, listen to the sound of my voice," he bowed, reaching his hand toward you- hands collided tenderly, "Whether ye stay or whether ye go, you have a choice." You yearned for it to be real, that you had a choice- that you could stay with him. Stay with him there in this city where the two of you could remain best friends and possibly become even more. "Just promise me, as each day passes, that ye will never forget thy love or my Kingdom as long as ye live." You swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting tears at the finishing of Jimin's final line.

"My prince, in every dream I dream, I choose thee," though not within the script, Mrs. Lee always preached improvisation, and lightly, you touched his cheek, him flickering his stare between yours whilst leaning into your palm, the Kingdom rejoicing when Jimin pulled you into a crushing hug. The faint smell of his cologne met your nostrils causing you to memorize this moment as best as you could, so you'd remember everything about him. His touch, his hold, his smell, his smile. Anything you could take with you in hopes of getting to see him again one day.

When the intro of the duet is keyed from the piano, hand in hand, you and Jimin faced the audience, smiles as heart stopping as could be, belting harmony from beginning to end, both capturing the audience with every word. Blended voices were breathtaking when the cast joined in, finalizing the night with dancing eyes and goosebumps across the theater, and even more applause when Jimin effortlessly succeeded in the originally dreaded lift where he spun you in the air, returning to plant your feet upon the stage. While the crowd stood to their feet in an ovation, the cast had you and Jimin hidden enough, and although time was ticking, Jimin hadn't cared. His palms cupped your cheeks while you tried to read his hurried eyes, the tip of his nose brushing yours before he captured your quivering lips. The kiss was soft. So soft, and when it ended, he whispered through the loud whistles of the audience to where only you could hear, "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you," tears fell from your cheeks, and he gripped your hand as soon as the cast dispersed into a line, uncovering the pair of you as rehearsed, leading to everyone bowing while the clapping continued to reverberate throughout the building. Although, beyond proud to be a part of such a successful production, nothing could take away the pain hounding your heart when your hand had to ghost Jimin's to find your parents. Your mother refused to let you out of her sight, and whether your parents were proud of your performance or not, you never knew, because not a single member spoke on the way home. Instead your mind replayed the secret kiss Jimin gave you over and over to the point it welcomed you in your dreams. It was hard not to cry when you had awoken, eventually breaking into a fit of sobs wishing Jimin had been there to hold you.

Depression was evident in your demeanor, and there was nothing anyone could have done to 'fix' you, or the situation you felt so hopelessly in bondage by. When the last day of school arrived, it had been the worst, and you and the person your heart belonged to had not spoken in months. Times where he would glimpse your way in drama class, you just couldn't bring yourself to face him, because it hurt way too much to accept the reality that you were leaving. You figured his mother informed him of your family moving back, especially since he never seemed to give up on trying to get you to at least look at him.

That last day of class, you cuddled your music binder to your chest, backpack straps hanging loosely from your shoulders, and you strolled upon the sidewalk to wait for your father to come pick you up. It was a sudden moment, when you curiously turned to lock eyes distantly with your best friend. You both stared, yet the way your heart sank to the floor, all you wanted more than anything was to run to him, embrace him in all entirety, kiss him for what you presumed would be the last time, and savor the moments you would have had with him. But, you couldn't, and you didn't; instead, you mouthed three words that you meant with all your soul, 'I love you.' Jimin bit at the corner of his mouth as fresh tears pooled- he looked down momentarily as if destiny had betrayed him before returning his eyes to yours, 'I love you, too.' As if it could have been anymore of an opportune time, your father arrived right then to pick you up, and in fear that he had seen Jimin, your head whirled to look back where your best friend had been to see he was gone, prompting a painful, long sigh of relief.

It had only taken a week for your family to officially move, finding a much larger home which happens to be the mansion your family resides in now. Although the space was nice, it still took months until you forced yourself to move on from the dancing boy that had appeared in your dreams almost every night. The boy who had stolen your heart when you hadn't realized it. There was an attempt, when you were allowed your cellphone back, that you tried reaching out to discover his number had been disconnected, and despite the gnawing of confusion, you guessed his mother must have changed his number, the same as your parents had changed yours.

Eventually, after a year of returning to your hometown, which included graduating high school, your mother convinced you to get back into acting, to audition for as many things as you could until you found a job. So, that's what you did to keep your mind busy, scouring any information you could get regarding auditions for tv shows, movies, commercials, absolutely anything that would just keep you going. Sporadically, you landed the lead role in two separate movies, gained a celebrity friend, Maeve, and continued into the years piled immensely with interviews, traveling, movie premiers, award shows, your fame skyrocketing to the point millions knew your name.

And just like that, your world became brand new. Became a clean slate. Your past buried behind you while you sprung forward. Your success in the acting business brought numerous calls pleading for you to audition for their movies; businesses were begging you to promote their products; magazines arranged for your photoshoots where you appeared on a myriad of covers- you rarely had a clear schedule, and you liked it that way. Lights, cameras, paparazzi, meeting other famous individuals as well as meeting your fans, you were becoming happy again, you were finally returning to having a steady relationship with your parents, and your sister improved in her artistic ability. You were slowly forgetting about the boy you once knew.

You made callbacks for yet another movie at one point, but unfortunately, had not gotten the lead role as hoped for, rather, you played a minor character which ultimately gave you a break from the consistent moving. Your body needed a break; your mind needed rest, and so you decided to take a short break until you found the motivation to search for another job. The movie merely didn't make it far- critics claimed the plot had been too predictable, but it made it to the big screen regardless, and for that you were grateful. Another year passed, now being twenty-two years old, you and Maeve went on a shopping spree throughout the streets of your favorite city, sipping frappuccinos in the smothering heat of summer, a poster happened to catch your eye. Stopping to read it, the straw of your drink pressed to your bottom lip, Maeve's furrowed eyebrows veered from you to the poster.

"What is it?" She asked, ears perked to the sound of clicking cameras though the pair of you have learned to ignore it. Mumbling the words along with you, Maeve leaned forward, "Auditions being held for a romantic comedy this Saturday.... 9am to 3pm... Oh wow! You should audition!"

"What? Why me? Why just me?" You turned your head abruptly while studying your giggling friend.

"You said so yourself that you wanted to be in a comedy! And, there ya go, how much more of a coincidence can this be?"

"A poor one," you took a long sip from your drink quelling laughter from the incredulous gape Maeve flashed you.

"Are you not going to at least try? You are [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N] for crying out loud!"

You were tempted, and you honestly hadn't been in a comedy since you were... Ten years old. Chick flicks had mostly been your calling though funny moments of course were mingled amongst the seriousness. "That I am, but I don't sit on a throne, Maeve, I'm just as normal as it gets."

"If you define normal as putting your potato chips in your sandwich then I guess you're right,"

"It gives it a lil' crunch," your mouth missed your straw awkwardly, but you swerved just enough to catch it, "you should try it sometime."

"I'll try it when you audition for this movie," Maeve teased, "Which you will even if I have to drag you there myself,"

"You have much faith concealed in that tiny body, but okay,"

So therefore, you auditioned. It was the lead role you applied for which was about a character who caught the eyes of two guys the second she stepped into the school. The movie seemed hilarious from what you could collect, and you were shaking your head in laughter when you called Maeve exclaiming how you had gotten the part as she predicted. Although, she squealed in glee, she was dreading the idea of adding potato chips to her sandwich as she promised she would if you made the part.

The following week, you couldn't wait to meet your co-workers as well as the rest of the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were immeasurably curious of who would be casted as your character's love interests. Though numerous options, it was hard to guess, though your mind filtered through familiar faces in the acting business. The producers and director filed into the room when chairs began to fill, slapping a thick script in front of everyone.

"There's been a slight change of plans for the story," the director said, prompting your eyebrows to knit together as you wondered what he could potentially mean, "Instead of two guys fighting over you," he pointed in your direction, "there will be seven!"

Interested grunts and 'awes' echoed in the space, and you nodded in surprise; seven? Seven men wanting you all at once? That would sound farfetched to any woman, even in the position you're in as an actress, it remained unbelievable. The director rubbed his hands together, "They couldn't make it today, but we will officially meet them tomorrow to finish looking over the script."

It seemed as if all you did was blink when you made it to set the next day, dressed in your favorite boot heels and casual wear- you weren't paying a bit of attention when you suddenly smacked dab into someone who happened to over tower you.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" He said, his fingers tickling your arms from where he hoped you would stay steady.

"It's fine! I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going," you chuckled against the chagrin burned red upon your chest, and you couldn't help but be starstruck by the incredibly handsome face staring down at you. Noticeable dimples rested on either side of his grinning cheeks, and the coffee color of his eyes radiated kindness, and of course, you wondered innocently if he was one of the potential love interests the director mentioned the day before.

"I'm Kim Namjoon," he offered his hand which of course you took, enchanted by his smile, but you scolded yourself interiorly due to the obvious fact of not knowing him personally enough to care on whether he was available or not. There seemed to be a recognition in his countenance that you typically notice when people realize who you are, and you couldn't help the flattery when his hand still latched to yours picked up the pace while shaking it. "Oh my gosh! You're the [Y/L/N] [Y/F/N]! My girlfriend loves you!"

"That is so sweet of her," you were still blushing, but deeply touched by his words. Namjoon, dropped his hand in embarrassment from how long he had shaken yours, mumbling an apology, he slid his slim hands within his pockets.

"I must say, I am very honored to meet you. I've seen two of your movies with her and you were phenomenal!"

"Thank you very much, Namjoon! That means a lot. I hope I get to meet your girlfriend soon, she sounds like such a sweetheart," you tried to think if you had seen him in anything that had come out recently, but couldn't place a thing. You continued into the same room as yesterday, pulling your script from your bag, you settled into a seat before observing your surroundings, noticing in your peripherals Namjoon taking a seat beside a guy who appeared very quiet. Long, straightened blue strands spread upon his forehead while his dark eyes scanned the room. His lips were thinner compared to Namjoon's, and they rested contently while he leaned back in his chair. You tried not to stare too much, but when he caught you, you grinned instead of averting your eyes, relief flooded your senses when his lips raised into a side grin in return- his nametag reading 'Min Yoongi.'

When the seat on the other side of Yoongi skidded against the concrete floor, you instinctively looked to the sound, beyond amazed at the sight you saw. You weren't one to spike perspiration on the lining of your forehead just from seeing a man, but with the way his bandana complimented his brown tendrils neatly stacked on his head, you were beside yourself. His square jaw was locked in concentration while his petal pink lips pursed- his chocolate eyes rushed over the lines where he opened his script.

"Kim Taehyung?" A staff member asked, Taehyung nodded in reply, the worker placed the nametag before him, rounding the table to set yours before you. You would honestly never get used to people knowing who you are prior to an introduction considering the staff member had not questioned if you were indeed you. Thought aside, you were very taken aback on how sculpted this man was to a heavenly perfection.

"No, I didn't mean to trip the guy, I just wanted some food!" You vaguely identified the male whose windshield wiper laugh pleasantly greeted your ears while he found a seat, "Seriously, I hadn't seen him standing there." He poised his head enough to lock eyes with Min Yoongi, and you tilted your head curiously with question if they happened to know each other. But my, so far, who you assumed were going to be the men who were going to fight for your love, you were quite mesmerized by their beauty.

"Hello, my name is Chan-ri, I'm a huge fan of yours, how are you?" The exquisitely rosy cheeks of a red headed female entered your vision, and hearing her name, you remembered her from a TV show you binge watched with Maeve before. Genuinely, you offered a handshake, her comfortably taking the seat beside you. After you thanked her for her compliment whilst answering her question, she leaned in closer to your ear, "Is it just me or are these guys ca-ute?"

"The one in the bandana is looking better and better," you winked.

"Gosh, I couldn't agree more. And, I don't know if you've heard the rumors. But, the singer Jeon Jeongguk, apparently auditioned for a role,"

Eyebrows raised when you heard his name, "You're kidding!" You gasped in excitement. "Euphoria is literally my favorite song by him!"

"I could rave about his music all day long!" His presence entered the room as if on cue, hushing you and Chan-ri into bottled-up giggles, her winking at you in a way to say, 'we will talk later when the coast is clear.' A man with even redder hair than Chan-ri followed behind the well-known singer, and your lips parted in a silent gasp along with your amplified glance. "H-Hoseok?" He immediately sought for who said his name, and when he realized it was you, he couldn't help the smile that decorated his face.

"[Y/N]!" He greeted loudly, shuffling to collide into your hug, "Wow, how have you been? I haven't seen you in years!"

He helped you with dance moves for the spring musical sparking memories you hadn't reminisced in what felt like a lifetime ago, but here he was, in the flesh. "What a small world, I've been wonderful! How are you, Hoseok? What have you been up to? Look at you! So handsome!"

Hoseok thanked you before catching up with his life- he decided to go into acting when he graduated from Konkuk University with his soon-to-be fellow co-stars Seokjin and Yoongi which all made sense as to why Seokjin seemed comfortable talking to Yoongi earlier. Due to the encouragement of an individual he befriended, in high school, Hoseok explained how it stemmed him to chase his dreams, and here he was, auditioning for his first movie, excited to reunite with a familiar face from his past. He sat on the other side of Chan-ri, making conversation with her while you focused on the twiddling of your fingers. A poke on your shoulder made you jump an inch,

"Excuse me, is this where we meet?" A lighter voice spoke, but there was a distinct familiarity to it. When you faced the direction of where the question came from, the first thing you visualized was a silver necklace holding a pendant you hadn't seen since you were sixteen- one that you gifted someone as an emblem of your friendship- you were confused because not many people owned this specific piece of jewelry, and when your eyes slowly made the adventure to the individual's face, the rigidity paralyzed your frame faster than you could anticipate. Those eyes.

You knew those eyes. Better than anyone.

There was no stopping the intense hammering of your heartbeat; your temples pounded profusely, and he was frozen in place at the sight of you, because of your eyes. Neither of you moved, because there was disbelief at who either of you were looking at- his hair, now dyed, gleamed sleek blonde tendrils parted but long enough to tickle the lateral canthus' of his eyes, face thinned in a mature eloquence. It had been nearly seven years since the last time you ever saw him, and even then, he reflected your confusion, anxiously collecting whatever jumbled words he could form into sentences, but it was too late. The director enthusiastically entered the room, dispersing the moment just as quickly as it came.

"Greetings everybody! I see you've met our seven new cast members!" He grinned ear to ear, gesturing his hands toward all the guys. Shivering, but trying to keep it maintained, you watched your long-lost friend take a seat across from you next to Jeongguk. "Oh, and here's your nametag," the director plopped one in front of Jimin, you swiftly dropped your gaze, gritting your teeth in reaction to the strong waves of shivers plaguing your body. He was there. Park Jimin, as though you were acquainted with a ghost, was sitting right there in the midst of the small crowd, but with the way your muddled state was feeling- it had been only you two.

"Alright, let's open our scripts to page three. We need to review some main points of the story line." The director informed, but you were hardly listening, yet you kept your eyes zoned upon the booklet before you, only flipping pages at the sound of others doing so. Too many memories spun nonstop like a whirlwind, and you could sense Jimin glimpsing at you in the same wonderment as you were.

The trips to Mcdonalds where you both would split a large fry and dream about the future; the afternoon at school when the pair of you laughed about some cocky kid who face-planted in PE while playing soccer; the days you'd go jogging together and joke about anything under the sun; the moment when you two were drawing with your sister, and you thought Jimin's cow doodle was a duck. One of your fondest memories was your fifteenth birthday when Jimin, even Hoseok, along with your parents planned a huge surprise party just for you; the get-togethers with the drama club; auditioning for the lead roles in the spring musical and landing them. And the grand finale, when Jimin kissed you on what had been a final goodbye before exiting the stage that very night.

Nobody, other than Hoseok, in that room knew of the friendship you and Jimin once had. Nobody in the world would have known except the pupils the two of you attended school with. You were aware that if Jimin were to become famous, people would dig deeper to find that the both of you were in a movie together at ten years old, and all the other evidence that would explode within the media. You, to this day, will never forget the anxiety shooting through your figure while you pretended to review the script wishing you had the guts to just look at him.

The meeting ended in a blur, and you slung your bag over your shoulder, death gripping the script, and rushing out of the room where you felt as though you had been suffocating. You did not want to relive the heartbreak, so in desperation, you wanted to run.

He stopped you before you could even make it halfway to the entrance.

"Wait!" He bellowed. People were bustling by without any concern, but with the risk of a paparazzi capturing this moment you knew would need to be private, you ducked into the other side of a large staircase that appeared vacant aside from a tall plant, and Jimin followed suit- you spinning to see him sprinting toward you. For once you then understood when people described something to relate to a scene from a movie, because there was the love of your life, as if in a movie, running until he reached where you were. He was breathing heavily from the frenetic gesture, and understandably speechless, the pair of you weren't sure where to remotely begin. Swiping a slow hand through his hair, he looked so exquisite as he always had, and though you didn't want to revert to staring at the tiled floor of the opposite side of the lobby, you did. Carefully, he slipped his hands into his pockets, pressing his lips together in apparent worry.

"You're- you're blonde now," though small, a hint of a smile tinged your lips, a breathy laugh broke through Jimin's tight-lipped grin that infamously made his eyes disappear.

"Yeah," Jimin whispered tenderly, "Felt it was time for a change, ya know? Have been getting it colored since my twentieth birthday," breaking the ice enough, you found the strength to meet his gaze. His lips parted to then close multiple times, until he wetted them, "As you can tell, I honestly, don't know what to say, but, my God, I am so proud of you,"

"Jimin-" your voice broke, chin trembling from the burning tears when you knew that he was referring to your success, and the woman you have become. He stepped closer, releasing one hand from his pocket holding it out as if to calm the nervous tension.

"Really, [Y/N], I- you-" stammering through his words, you could see that he was blatantly in as much shock as you were, processing the fact that his long lost love was standing before him in all your glory. "I gave up acting in high school," he swallowed roughly, "as you can imagine, I was going through a rough time." He had been terrified to admit the reasoning considering the pair of you had no idea what had happened personally in each other's lives in the time between, and though he battled with what to say, he found the courage to just say it regardless, "When I lost you, I felt like- I just felt like there was no reason to really try anymore."

"Jimin," you whispered as if pleading with him, "I tried reaching out to you, but your number was disconnected- it was, it was disconnected, I-"

"No, [Y/N], please, don't cry- it's not your fault- Please," this time, he inched so close, that if you would have collected enough bravery, you could have rested your forehead at the curve of his chin where he could have invited you in for the warmth you could fall forever deep in. Eyes refusing to break contact, he continued, "After I saw your first movie, there were a few interviews I listened to where you said some of the most encouraging things, and I realized, if there was anyone I aspired to be like, it's you." Surprise lingered in your expression, because how could any of this be real? You knew stories like this were only filmed for the interest of the world, so how could someone you once cherished return out of the blue to tell you exactly what you needed to hear? "You, [Y/N], are the reason why I never gave up on myself. Why I never gave up at all. Why... I decided to go back to what I loved."

You were his inspiration, and because of that he ended up here. Back when you thought fate was so cruel to take him away from you, here he was, back into pursuing his passion for acting, all because he never gave up on you. You hated falling apart, you hated crying unless it was for the cameras, but in all vulnerability, especially when Jimin pulled you into his arms where your nose pressed into his chest, you cried. With all the pent-up emotions from a time you tried to avoid, you cried. Jimin refused to let you go until you were okay, and without any delay, you stayed by his side, repudiating from going home when you had seven years of catching up to do. There was barely any attention on anything, not even how Jimin opened his hotel room door without you stealing his kisses to the point you couldn't breathe. Fingers tangled into his shirt, he kicked the door behind him, emotions pouring from the way he kissed you as though he was going to lose you again. The most experience you knew, sexually, was from scenes you filmed with other actors- mostly steamy make out sessions, but you had never personally done the 'deed' in reality. Your back plopped upon the bed, palms pressed on either side of Jimin's jaw where your fingertips graced his hair, his hands cradling the sides of your waist while he continued to part his lips so gently with yours.

"Wait," you stopped, Jimin's enlarged eyes flashed concern as though he may have hurt you, "No, no, you haven't done anything wrong. I just- I just," you trailed off, chest rising and falling to steady your nerves. "I've never..."

Jimin exhaled a sigh of relief, bowing his head enough to where his hair feathered your cheeks, "I haven't either." You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised especially with all you had heard from stories others had told about men when it came to sex. But, at the same time, you always knew Jimin was different. Or, maybe it was purely meant to be, how you two abstained from something that was destined to be saved for the pair of you to share with one another. "I don't," Jimin's eyes flickered between your own because if there was anyone, he had an immense respect and adoration for, it was you, "I don't want to rush you into anything-"

"Jimin," your thumbs ran along the soft skin of his face, halting his words, "I want you,"

There was a hopeful smile that beamed from him before he covered your lips with even more kisses, making your head spin in a bliss you only ever felt when being with him. "Are you sure?" He pulled away; eyes boring into yours as if reading every inch of your soul.

"More than anything," you nodded, lifting your head to touch your lips to his for only a mere second. He was so in awe of you that he would do anything for you, and that never changed and never will. Kissing him was the most captivating addiction, and you never wanted it to end. Still completely clothed- the innocence would have been humorous in others' eyes, but the two of you were learning. And, the two of you were wanting to learn together and that's all that mattered to you. Park Jimin had never made you feel uncomfortable at any point that night, and you knew he wasn't going to overstep any boundaries. The fast pace of his lips sparked a feeling to rise within your core- a new feeling you wanted so eagerly to explore, the warmth was nearly smothering your panties, and you instinctively spread your legs to where he comfortably remained, his hips grinding his clothed erection along your area, where the crave to feel the entirety of his skin was all you could think about.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your fingers underneath his t-shirt, his stare timorous whilst you lifted it past his head, exposing the rock-solid muscles toned along his arms and abdomen. Your mouth watered causing you to gulp- never in your life had you seen such a masterpiece, even from his jawline to his soft, blonde hair- you still couldn't muster how ethereal this man before you was. Tossing his shirt to the ground, he remained above you, the necklace you gifted him years ago dangling before he kissed you hard while your fingertips soothed along his back, his hand moving to cup your attired breast, tenderly squeezing it releasing a soft moan from your lips. Just the feel underneath your fingertips of his warm skin made you anxious to feel him molding into you- gripping his wrists, leading them to the end of your shirt, Jimin lifted it off you- your lacy bra staring back at his broadening eyes which caused his breath to hitch in the back of his throat.

"Oh," he groaned, "[Y/N], you are so perfect," his words nearly brought you to tears; your hands rested upon his cheeks, bringing him back to you to plant a soft kiss on his thick lips, him lowering to where his skin finally met yours, the enticing move enveloping you all at once, you could hardly contain yourself, exhaling against his lips just for him to brush his tongue along yours. One by one the clothes came off until his bare legs were jumbled with yours, his erection rubbing along your dampened heat, his thumbs caressing your nipples- the ticklish feeling caused your fingers to dig into his back. Jimin nipped at your collarbone, leaving numerous kisses along your chest, moving backwards to kiss along your stomach, the wetness lingering while your eyes slammed shut in utter paradise. He pecked along your hip bones, his hands never leaving your breasts until he made it to your inner thighs. Slithering his fingers to cling onto your quivering limbs, he spread your legs, his breath panting tepidly along your folds, his eyes widening with the urge he always wanted to fulfill, and only with you. You had never experienced this, and though you had heard of the such thing from various sources, you were curious to know what it felt like. Your clit rhythmed with your hyperventilating, him moving to kiss your inner thighs before returning to your vulva. Your toes curled along the bed sheets, your body tensing in preparation- and that's when he did it.

Gently licking his tongue along your slit, up and down, the motion emancipating a high-pitched moan from your throat which motivated him to continue. He brought his fingers to spread your folds, your core clenching while he sped the movements of his tongue- licking and licking until your hips involuntarily began to shift- your fingers gripping the bed sheets- sweat beading your forehead. For a few minutes, he continued to pleasure you, the tip of his tongue sliding against your clit before returning to hover above you. Though you were uncertain if what you were about to do would be done correctly, you moved your hand to hold his erection, gliding up and down gradually, him hissing with how good it felt to have your hand wrapped around him. That gave you the inclination that everything was being done smoothly; Jimin rested his lips to where your heart pounded, then moved to suck your nipple while your hand did the work, his hands squeezing at the mattress in response to the growing feel of an orgasm.

He stopped you, not wanting to cum too soon, instead interlaced his fingers with yours and rested your closed hands against the pillows above your head. Your core still tightening from how aroused you were, both of you held each other's gaze, you nodded that you were ready. Ready for what you two had been longing for. He swallowed nervously, "I, um, I don't have a condom,"

"Oh," you seemed a bit more scared than how you really felt, "well, I mean, I am on birth control for my... monthly cycle, so I don't think... I should be good," relieved, his knees rested on either side of your legs; lips parted, Jimin's eyes met yours, him leaning forward to stay above you- your legs raising to spread in preparation- while his one hand rested beside your head, he took the other to hold his erection to your heat, your shoulders tensed from the butterflies swarming your stomach.

"Are you sure?" His whisper was nearly inaudible, but nothing in this world would ever change your mind.

"Yes," you nodded, breathless. "Please." Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders- slowly he began to push within your walls- the pain nearly brought you to tears- but, you clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to relax just enough for him to penetrate further, his heart thrumming beneath his chest, especially with the pain he did not want to inflict on you.

"[Y/N], I'm so sorry, are you sure about this, I don't want to hur-" he paused immediately when he heard a muffled cry escape you.

"It's okay, keep going," your eyes were squeezed shut, and you eased your body from the tension knowing he was halfway there. Steadily, he moved further until all of him was within you, the worst part finally being over, you calmed yourself enough to stare into his eyes, your breaths increased, yet relief flooded your countenance because now the pain was subsiding just enough for him to proceed. He thrusted slowly, his lips passionately syncing with yours as your fingers tangled with the smooth tufts of his hair- with one hand, he rested his fingertips above your clit, rubbing affectionately whilst sexing you- the building of the fire below causing your muscles to taut. How something so powerful could bring such a wondrous escape you would never be able to equate,

"Mmm," you hummed against his mouth- the sensation of the orgasm finally reaching its peak- him jolting backward, to finish pumping his spillage onto the bed sheets to then watching you unravel from the ecstasy released from your core. "Holy shit," you could barely find words- perspiration covered each of your bodies, the heat nearly stifling yet still wanting his skin upon yours lingered. He embraced you once the sensitivity dimmed- you nestled your face into the side of his neck.

"We did it," you whispered, finding it adorable how accomplished you feel, and Jimin pressed you tighter to him, his fingers running along the side of your arm- him moving to brush a gentle peck to the side of your forehead.

"We did it," he repeated, a large, contagious smile spreading across his face- a smile you had fallen in love with once upon a time. You shifted just enough to where your arms hugged behind his neck- bare chests pressed together- your leg lacing around his waist, his hand sliding to rest upon your hip. The silver pendant entered your sight, and amazement hovered,

"You still have it,"

It wasn't a question, more of a softened statement; it was the first time you mentioned it aloud, but Jimin knew exactly what you were talking about, "I never planned on taking it off," rendered speechless, you kissed him one more time, letting every piece of him whisk you away- and nothing could ruin this moment. Park Jimin was back in your arms, and nothing was ever going to take him away from you. Not again.

-

The fabric of your dress feels silky beneath your palms as you slide them to smooth out any wrinkles. Makeup finished as well as the curling of your hair, you are proud of the dress you chose to wear- it being your favorite color, and one you confidently feel Jimin will love just as much. For some reason, you feel anxious about seeing him tonight, though you don't know why exactly. You have known him a total of fourteen years, yet it still feels like you are seeing him for the first time with any day he is standing before you. Flicking off the lights to your bathroom and bedroom, you scurry down the stairs with your black clutch in hand, entering the living room in the direction of the front door.

"Well, someone looks extraordinarily beautiful tonight,"

"Oh! Mom! You scared me!" You gasp, chuckling when you turn to see your mom leaned against the door frame that leads into her office; her arms are crossed though she smiles at you suspiciously.

"Sorry, honey. I was on Facebook when I heard heels, so I came running,"

Lowkey a fashion guru, your mother always enjoyed seeing the gowns you would be fitted for events, and knowing you haven't had anything lined up recently, she rushed intuitively to see what her daughter is up to.

"Well, what do you think?" You twirl in place, the dress brushing your knees before hanging in place.

"What's the occasion?" Mom raises a brow, though you know she's teasing. Your mother has always been one who liked to be aware of where you are in case if something were to happen which you know that is how you would be if you had a child. Though aware of your fame and constant schedule, your mother wants to at least know you're safe, especially when you are followed most of the time in public.

"I'm... going to see Jimin tonight," you have refrained from bringing him up countless times knowing it can be a potentially uncomfortable topic for your mom, but you refuse to lie about your whereabouts for fear of something that might not be the case anymore. Distant, you notice the way she seems closed off, like something is drifting a cloud of culpability above her head. "Mom, are you okay?" Worried that something may be wrong, you question: does she not like him? Sadly, you truly have avoided any conversation revolving Jimin; even when he came back into your life, it still made the topic awkward.

Mom bites the corner of her mouth before letting out a defeated sigh, "I'll be right back." She steps into her office, and your eyebrows scrunch in obvious curiosity as to what she is doing. Waiting patiently, she makes her way to you, hand outstretched with a folded picture she gestures toward you. "I found this the other day, and I thought maybe you should have it." Your mother slightly grins against welling tears, and when you reach for the picture, you carefully open it, tears filling your own eyes at what you see.

It's a picture of you and Jimin from when the two of you were either fourteen or fifteen- taken in the evening since it was dark in the background; you figured it must have been cold because you were wearing a jean jacket while he wore his favorite gray hoodie at the time with the bolded word 'Supreme' written in the center. His arms were draped over your shoulders, and you could see the top of a Mcdonalds drink resting in his free hand. The pair of you were smiling so wide defining the happiness the two of you brought to each other on any given day.

"I remember this," you murmur, looking back at your mom, "Our families went out to eat together, and you and his mom were taking God knows how many pictures," you kid. A tear pangs your mother's cheek as she shares a smile with you.

"I remember too. It was such a great night."

"It was," staring at the photo, your heart swells, "Thank you, mom."

When you step to hug her, that's when she loses it- tears spilling down her cheeks while she holds you so close, "I'm so sorry," she sniffs, "We could have worked everything out- grounded you, supervised the two of you or, something! I shouldn't have forced you to move away."

"Mom," you plea, not wanting her to hurt because it breaks your heart to see anyone you know, and love upset. The both of you have held your feelings about the situation for seven long years and never even tried discussing it. Sometimes, talking can be the best medicine- not only do you have to think before you speak, but forgiving the person long before the two of you work things out can really help solve a problem. All one must do is listen.

"I just... I panicked! I didn't want my daughter to make a mistake. You were so young-"

"It's okay, mom, really. I understand,"

"I wanted to even force you to switch out of drama class, all because I was so scared. I didn't even want you in the play. Your father convinced me to let you perform because," she pulls away and holds your arms, wanting to look in your eyes that mirror her own, "He reminded me that we were young once too. We met at sixteen, you know that. And I just remember feeling so guilty when he told me that," your mother looks down for a moment to gather her words, "I could have lost my daughter because I believed I was doing the right thing. I should have trusted you, and I am so, so sorry for everything."

"Mom," you hug her again, "I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Oh, it's so good to know that!"

"And, mom, if we never moved back to our hometown, I wouldn't be as successful in my career as I am now. You encouraged me to go back into acting, and for that I will forever be grateful. Besides, Jimin came back. That's all that matters," your reassurance mends her heart together as she carries pride in her eyes on how far you have come in all that you have endured.

"I love you. And, if you ever need to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you know I'm here for you,"

"Even if it's about Jimin?" You giggle lightheartedly, tucking the picture of you and him in your clutch for safekeeping.

"Even if it's about Jimin." She smiles, "Now what are you still doing here? Go! Get out! Have fun, and please be safe!"

Skipping out the door, the feeling of closure overwhelms your soul, and for once, you feel as if life couldn't get any better, and now you and your mother can one hundred percent be the rock you will forever need no matter where life takes you. When the black SUV that holds your favorite driver, Stan, appears, you burst through the gate and into the back of the car, for him to hand you a small note.

Meet me on the rooftop. Your Chim Chim xo

You reread the note with a smile when you make it to an elevator upon arrival to Jimin's hotel- Stan saying to call whenever you are ready to be picked up. You're amazed how little people seemed to be roaming the hotel, and as a normal for you, you scoped your surroundings in case of any clicking cameras before stepping into what will lead you to your destination. Reaching the top floor, you find a staircase that you presume will climb you to the rooftop, so in determination you begin, trekking up the flight of stairs until you pause at a door.

Inhaling and exhaling calmly, you slowly push open the door, rounding a corner where an intriguing scenery causes you to gasp in surprise. Stringed lights glisten, covering every pole of mahogany wood that encloses the area together. Candles are blinking upon an elegant, black table for two adorned with silverware, lid-covered plates, a wine bottle, and two empty wine glasses. Flowerpots are hanging from different sections of the balcony, bringing more color to the patio; sparse trees fill the rest of the space, the atmosphere exuberating nothing but serenity. Jimin did all of this for you.

Eyes searching, you finally find him, in a black fitted suit, hands in his pockets while he stares at the starry sky. Taking the time to admire him, you have always been so in awe of how genuine he is. Treating his fans with all the love, constantly caring for his family, keeping up with his friends, and for always being there for you no matter what it takes. He listens to you the same as you do for him and being in the entertainment business where rumors spread like wildfire, sometimes a listening ear is what one needs. He has been everything you have ever wanted, and he always will be.

You clear your throat, "Well, sir, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted to spend time with me."

Whirling on a heel, his expression eases when he sees it's you, "Hey!" He beams, eyes disappearing from how big his smile spreads. "I didn't hear you come in. How long were you standing there?"

Noting how he seems embarrassed, you can't help but find it irresistibly adorable, "Not long," you promise, watching him step in your direction.

"Good, I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay, Chim. I don't even know why you're worried, silly,"

"Whoa, you really took me seriously when I said to wear something pretty," Jimin reaches for your hand while you lower your head timidly.

"Look at you! You look like a model!" Jimin throws his head back at your compliment, "And, look!" You point at his shoes, "New shoes! Look at those beautiful, new shoes!"

"I told you I was going to get new ones today!" He tries stifling his laughter in the crook of his arm before sliding your chair out for you to sit.

"And, have I ever told you how much I love the blonde hair on you? I feel like I don't tell you enough," One thing you have learned over the years of knowing Jimin, is he blushes just as easily as you do. When one compliments him, he can't help but slump in his chair before burying his forehead onto the back of his wrist.

"Why are you making this about me," he whines playfully, "I want this to be about you,"

"But, it's always about me, maybe I like to spice things up a bit to appear humbling," your eyebrows wiggle, sending Jimin in another bout of giggles.

"Speaking of spice, are you hungry?"

"Famished," you dramatically emphasize, Jimin shaking his head at you with amusement while he reaches over to lift the lid of the plate. A steaming slab of steak laying scrumptiously on a pile of rice makes your mouth water, even when your eyes trail to the seasoned vegetables beckoning you to devour them. "This looks so good," you acclaim, preparing a fork and knife in order to start slicing. Jimin has already taken a bite in agreement. Deciding to take another swoop of how beautifully the décor mingles with the design of the patio, you speak after swallowing your first mouth full of meat. "I wasn't expecting this," you say softly, looking back at Jimin who cocks a musing eyebrow.

"What did you expect? Mcdonalds?" Jimin grabs the wine bottle, succeeding in opening it before he pours each of you a glass.

"No, you brute, the patio! It's wonderful up here."

"I wanted everything to be special." He murmurs, lifting his glass after holding your eyes, "You deserve it,"

In all honesty, you are at a loss for words, because how you ever deserved a man so loving, you will never know. And amidst conversation, you briefly remember the picture your mother gave you before you left, and deciding to make this known, you wet your lips, "So, I talked to my mom earlier this evening and," you prop your elbow onto the table after gripping the memory within your fingertips, the back of the picture facing Jimin. "She gave me this, and I wanted to show it to you."

Handing it to him, he gently takes it, a reminiscent grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I remember this," he says, "my brother actually teased me because..." He trails off, his grin falling for a moment. "I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that day, but I chickened out." Your shoulders fall a bit though your heart flutters. Jimin was going to ask you to be his girlfriend? What made him afraid to? You open your mouth to speak, but when you find no words, he continues. "I had assumed that it was just going to be me and you going out that night with Jihyun, but, then both our parents ended up coming."

"That's still so sweet of you," you assure him, wanting the guilt that clouds his eyes to dissipate.

"I like this picture by the way." He holds it up and hands it back over to you. "I want a copy."

"I'll print one for you," you pact, his sincere eyes never leaving yours- all you know is if the table between you didn't exist, you'd kiss him. But as if he reads your mind, he reaches across the table and intertwines his fingers with yours; your eyes still locked preparing to say something, but the scrape of the door makes the two of you jolt and hands part. "Dessert!" A waiter lays out two white bowls in front of each of you, to then taking up the emptied dinner plates.

"Chocolate ice cream?" You say as Jimin smirks at your mouth falling open in glee.

"Our favorite," he winks, bringing a fourteen-year-old memory back in loop of the days where he loved to wear it on his face, and you never let him live it down. Chocolate syrup is drizzled over the dollops, a leaf of mint nestled on top of a scoop to complete the appetizing goal.

"I thought you said you weren't good with girls," you scoff, pressing your spoon into the dessert.

"I'm not."

"Then what is this?" you say quickly, gesturing to the dessert of symbolism.

"I think what you're trying to say is I'm romantic," He raises a brow, pointing his spoon toward you. "Besides, I think it's about time that we admitted that we are committed."

A warm sigh brushes over your cold lips, the taste of the ice cream melted on your tongue, because you know he's right. What have you really been afraid of? Was it really your mother for the fear of her still not accepting him? Well, now you know that she will accept him, so that's not an excuse. Were you afraid of the hateful words that would be thrown your way if the press were to confirm a relationship between you two? In the end, it's about you and Jimin, and despite hate, what would it matter if the world knew? Candidly, you want to protect him from the media, but your strong feelings of keeping him safe are equal to how much he wants to keep you safe.

What really scares you, more than anything, is losing him again. And, you have remained in this strange thought that if the pair of you stayed simply friends that maybe it would prevent heartbreak. Others, for example Maeve, you know would be highly confused by your thought process on the entire subject because why not be in a relationship with him when you both already seem like you are in one? What's crazy is you know Jimin loves you more than anything in this world, you can feel it, yet the pair of you have not said it since you were sixteen years old. The couple years of him returning made you fall in love with him all over again, and the truth is:

You would love to be his girlfriend. You would love to just be his forever.

Before you can respond, the subtle sound of a guitar begins to play through speakers you notice are hanging a distance behind the flowerpots. As if on cue, Jimin stands to his feet, patting his lips daintily with a crumpled napkin before tossing it on the table. "You want to dance?" He asks you, offering his hand.

"Always," he leads you to a secluded spot upon the balcony, and his arm rests behind your back. The volume of the music rises just a notch, you squeeze his shoulder once before resting your head on his chest. The side of his chin brushes your forehead while he sways you so gently, and merely getting lost in the feel of him. Your heart pounds to the rhythm of the song, and you swallow against the nerves enveloping your chest, and you let the song finish into the start of the next one, when you pull away enough to gaze into his eyes. Concern etches in his irises the second he sees you, slowly swaying to a halt. "Jimin," you breathe, fingers tightening their hold on his hand and his shoulder unintentionally, but he is ready to hear what you have to say, no matter what it may be. "Jimin, I know the past two years have not only been the most trying, but they also have been the most rewarding," you timidly drop your gaze to the silver necklace he has resting on the collar of his shirt before returning to stare at him once again, "I am in love with you, and I am ready beyond belief to let the world know it."

Nothing will ever be more magical than watching Jimin's smile grow, and the second it does, Jimin puts both hands on your waist, hoisting you in the air, spinning you around from the excitement he feels soaring all around his soul. You let out a loud laugh, linking your fingers behind his neck, your body leaning forward just a bit as your legs bend to where your heels almost reach your back. "I got you!" He laughs as you lightly lay your chin on his soft bundle of hair until he settles you back to your feet. Jimin, the one who stuck with you from the beginning and will stick with you until the end; the one who knows you more than you know yourself at times, the one you can laugh with, the one you can cry with; the one that you know will never want to lose you as long as he lives.

"I love you so much," His beautiful, brown eyes continue to bore into yours and just the pure love in them nearly brings you to tears, and in this very moment, something rings true- that if this man doesn't kiss you right now, you're going to lose it! Running your left hand through his hair, you stop at the back of his head. His wide smile turns into a grin as he leans closer to your face, resting his forehead against yours prompting your lips to part in preparation for his kiss, ready to feel the fireworks bursting in every place of your heart, ready to be wrapped so tight in his arms, ready for him to leave you breathless as he always does. Jimin then slips a hand off your waist and holds up his pinky finger to you- it catches you off guard, but it the most beautiful way.

"Promise me something, [Y/Nickname]." he nearly whispers.

"Anything, Chim,"

"Promise me that no matter what... You'll love me forever."

A tear slips down your cheek as joy overflows you, because from the first promise the two of you ever made to now, every memory you both have shared has been forever written on your heart. And you know from the look in Jimin's eyes, you both will be sharing plenty more.

"I promise, Jimin, " you say, bringing your pinky to his and wrapping it securely. "I will love you forever and always. Now... you better kiss me before I change my mind!"

Thrusting his head back in flattery, he shakes his head at you with glimmering eyes as he straightens himself to where he can cup your face with his palms. There is never a dull moment with you, and he knows a playful remark always has to be congruent within the seriousness, and when his plush, warm lips touch yours for the first time this evening, the fireworks begin, but instead of in the sky, they are literally bursting in every direction of your heart. No camera, script or film can ever describe how real this moment is. How true it feels. You both hold each other tight, feeling not only love but forever. As Jimin kisses you, sparks ignite, both your heads spinning, hearts pounding and cherishing every second, excited for the future.

Like the end of a perfect movie, you can faintly hear the beautiful song, singing the words of your promise, come to an end.

#btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #kafenetwork #bts #ot7 #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #bts park jimin #jimin fluff #jimin solo #jimin romance #bts fic #jimin fic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin smut #bts smut #17k +

[heywardsarchive]

a very burrow christmas {Harry potter}

Summary: Harry and his girlfriend enjoy Christmas with their favourite people, the Weasleys. This is a no voldy au so every one is alive and happy:')

A/n: this is written by me and @pregnant-piggy 

(he has no right to be this cute wtf)                                                    

"Harry," y/n said trying to shake Harry's grip off her waist. "Haaryyy" she said in a sing song voice poking his cheek. "Wake up Potter!" She picked him again. "Ugh, lemme sleep l/n." Harry grumbled pulling y/n closer in his arms. "Five more minutes." He said snuggling his face into her neck. "Fine." She sighed playfully and melted into his embrace, falling asleep once again.

They were woken up properly when sirius barged into the room screaming "WAKE UP." He saw the sight in front of him and he almost let them be and leave. Almost being the word here, instead he called out to his best friend very loudly. "Prongs! Your son is trying to make you a grandfather early!" There was a series of clangs and crashes and ran in James Potter with crooked and a slightly red face. "What? Where?" Sirius snickered and pointed at Harry and y/n who were now waking up due to the commotion. "What's going on?" Harry asked groggily.

"Nothing, just sirius being an arse. Now wake up and get dressed, you both have to go the burrow today." James told his son and his girlfriend.

Harry groaned and nuzzled his face in y/n's shoulder. She giggled and pushed his head away, ignoring the googly eyes Sirius and James were making. 'Come on, Harry. The Weasleys are waiting for us. And you know how Ron gets when he has to wait.' In the doorframe, Sirius and James chuckled, but one look from Harry was enough to send them away. He and y/n got dressed in silence, both lost in their thoughts. When they came down, James and Lily were sitting at the dining table, both a mug in their hand and a smug smile on their face. Harry grumbled something about 'embarrassing him with their stupid faces' and James laughed loudly.

Still slightly grumpy, Harry ate his breakfast quietly. "So y/n, when are your parents returning?" Lily asked Y/n. She put her galss of orange juice down. "Oh, they'll be joining us tomorrow for Christmas at the Weasley's house." Lily nodded. "That's good." "Alright kiddos it's time to go." James clapped his hands together. Both Harry and y/n grabbed hold of their bags. One by one they walked into the fireplace and flooed to the burrow.

Harry reached first. He stepped out of the fireplace and and a second later out came y/n. She dusted the soot of her clothes and smiled at Harry. As Harry turned around, he was immediately hit on the face with a blob of frosting. Y/n burst out laughing. "You look so stupid Harry." She said, still laughing extremely loudly. "What a horrible day!" Harry whined.

The culprits behind the frosting on Harry's face walked to them with sly grins on their faces. Ofcourse it was fred and George. "Hello Harry, did you enjoy your Christmas welcome?" They said in unison. "No." Harry grumbled. "It was amazing, good job guys." Y/n high fived the twins. "Are you my girlfriend or theirs?" Harry asked her feigning betrayal. He put his fingers to his face and removed some of the frosting and rubbed it all over y/n's cheeks. She gasped. "No you didn't!" "Yes I did." Harry said mockingly.

Y/n took the piping bag from Fred's hands and squeezed it all over Harry's unruly black hair. "You've started war woman!" Harry declared and snatched the bag from her and ripped it on her head. "Ewww." She groaned. By then, all the Weasley kids had gathered, hearing the commotion. "Er, hi guys." Harry and y/n said sheepishly. "You had a frosting fight, without me?" Ron asked in betrayal. "Join in?" Y/n asked him. "YES!" He cheered.

Everybody grabbed some frosting bags and started throwing it at eachother. "What is going on here!" Mrs Weasley arrived, looking at the mess created in her living room. Everyone froze in their tracks and dropped whatever they were holding. "I asked you kids to frost cookies, not each other! Now clean up the mess. Stat!" Her face was red. The room was silent. "Do not worry kids, we got this." Fred and George said. They whipped out their wands and muttered a spell and the room was back to normal. "You're welcome." They grinned.

With the very little frosting that was left, it was quickly decided that the cookies would taste just as good without decoration. After everyone was washed up they sat in the living room, calming down from the frosting war. All were happily discussing what gifts they hoped they would get, when Ron proposed to play a game. Chutes and Ladders was taken out and everyone sat around it.

What was supposed to be an innocent game, soon turned into a battle in which no one was spared. Loud laughter erupted every time someone had to slide back to the start and groans from everyone but the player came whenever they could ascend a ladder.

Harry was the first one to give up. He still had the same, although maybe a little less, mood he had had in the morning and when he had to go back to the start for the third time, he threw his pawn away and declared he was done with the game. He pulled y/n on his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched how she slowly made her way to the last box.

'I won! I won!' she exclaimed when she placed her pawn on the final box and she threw her arms in the air. Everyone laughed bittersweet at her victory, but y/n noticed nothing of it as she turned around to Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry chuckled and placed a kiss on her temple. She however threw all her weight in the embrace and together with her boyfriend she fell to the floor.

Harry's chest was rising and falling with his laughter and y/n was lying on top of him. She lifted but kept hovering over him. The look on Harry's face was so delicate that she couldn't but place a soft kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled into the kiss when he heard everyone around them groan and yell.

'MOM! y/n and Harry can't keep their hands off each other!' Ron screamed to the kitchen and y/n climbed off Harry, not hiding her smug smile on her lips. She looked at Harry and he winked at her, his cheeks as red as the hair of the Weasleys around him.

It was night by the time the game ended and everyone's stomach was growling in hunger. "Kids, time for dinner!" Mrs Weasley called out. Everyone ran to the table, mouth watering at the smell of the deliciously steaming food. Roast turkey, cranberry sauce, pie and chocolate cake among others was spread out on the table. Everyone dug in and relished the delicious meal. Mrs Weasley this is so good!" Harry said in delight. "Thankyou dear." She smiled. Soon all the food on the table was cleared and nothing but a few crumbs remained.

Since it was Christmas Eve, Hermione suggested that they sang Christmas carols. Ginny decided that they sang o Christmas tree. Everyone sang along singing off tune, but still the Christmas cheer filled the air. The burrow never failed to brighten the mood. After carols, everyone dropped their gifts under the giant tree in the middle of the living room. Fred and George tried to sneak glances at the boxes which had their names on them. They even almost ripped one of the gifts open before mrs Weasley smacked their hands away.

Around eleven pm, mr Weasley handed everyone mugs of hot chocolate as everyone sat in the backyard. It was snowing and one could see their breath in the cold. "It's so nice outside." Ginny muttered. Everyone nodded in agreement. Harry rested his head on y/n's shoulder and she kissed his forehead. "I love you." He whispered. "I love you too." Y/n whispered lifting Harry's chin to place a kiss on his lips. "Gross! Get a room." Ron teased. Harry stuck his tongue out at his best friend and he rolled his eyes teasingly.

It was getting very late and everyone started to nod off. One by one they retired to their rooms. The girls were together and Harry was to share a room with Ron. Y/n placed a kiss on Harry's forehead and followed Hermione into the house.

*****

Full from the food and the merry feelings, y/n found her sleep quickly. The soft chatting of Hermione and Ginny lulled her asleep and soon she was off in dreamland.

Harry in his shared room with Ron missed y/n's warmth and her embrace that he was used to fall asleep to. He kept talking with Ron until the little hours, but eventually he slept in too, the warmth and comfort of the burrow easing him.

If the next morning no one had woken from the rooster that was screaming bloody murder at the crack of dawn, they were woken by the enthusiastic and loud talking of the twins, who were the first ones to wake up and had no intention of letting everyone else sleep in on this Christmas morning. So while Ron tried to turn around in his bed once more, the door of the bedroom burst open and Fred and George jumped on their brother's bed. 'Come on, Ron, it's Christmas!' Fred exclaimed and he and George kept pestering Ron all the way down to the living room, where the rest of the sleepy family sat.

y/n was sitting in the corner of the couch, resting her cheek on her hand. Her eyes were almost falling shut when Harry slumped into the place next to her and rested his head in her lap. She raked her hands through his messy hair and Harry felt his eyes slowly closing.

'I can't believe it, I talked to him for hours last night and he wouldn't fall asleep. You put your hand in his hair and he is off,' Ron grumbled, though he didn't look annoyed; he had a smirk on his face.

'Well, what can I say,' y/n laughed. 'It's a Christmas miracle.' *****

After a delicious breakfast made by Mrs Weasley, everybody gathered around the tree to open the presents. As the last person sat down, James and Lily Potter came out of the fireplace, followed by sirius a few seconds later. "Sorry we're late." Lily coughed. "Someone forgot to do their present shopping." Sirius looked sheepishly at the ground. "But we're here now." He declared.

Gifts were being passed out and everyone was excitedly opening them. Mrs Weasley knit everyone a Weasley jumper with their initial on it. Mr Weasley have everyone gifts depending on their likes. Sirius gave everyone a joke shop gift. Fred and George were the only ones who appriciated the gift. Finally, Harry opened y/n's gift. She anxiously watched his as he carefully opened the wrapping paper. He then lifted the gift, it was a scrapbook that she had spent months putting together. Harry flipped the book open, on the front was a picture of them in their first year, after Harry won the match, then after that there were pictures and small handwritten notes on every page. "Do you like it?" Y/n asked expectantly. "I really do!" Harry replied hugging her.

The gifts were opened and the mess was cleared. The children sat down on the sofa and we're about to play exploding snap when ginny exclaimed, "it's snowing!" The game was forgotten and everyone pulled on their coats and went to backyard. It was the first snow that year and it felt magical. Lily put on a casette that played muggle Christmas carols. They were all wizards but something about the atmosphere felt even more magical.

"Dance with me." Harry extended his hand out to y/n. "Gladly." She took it. He pulled her close and they swayed to the music. "I love you." Harry kissed her forehead. "I love you too " she smiled.

Lily and James watched the two lovers dance outside and their hearts swelled. It reminded them of them in their youth. Y/n's parents had arrived by then and they too watching them dance felt their heart warm up. It was beautiful to see the two of them so young and in love.

Hermione pulled y/n away from Harry, telling him that she needed to steal y/n from him as they needed another team mate for their snow ball fight. Harry shook his head and stood beside ron who was watching Hermione with slightly red cheeks and a small smile. "You should ask her out mate." Harry told him. "I don't know who you're taking about." He said defiantly. "Sure man, I belive you." Harry nudged his shoulder and they both shared a small laugh.

Harry was still talking to Ron when he was hit in the face by a snowball coming from behind a fort of snow a little further in the yard. As the cold snow dripped of his face and ice cold drops of water made their way into the collar of his coat, Harry quickly ran to the fort of the other team. He crouched down behind the wall of snow and turned to George, who was captain of this team.

'Spy on them, while Gin and I get ready to attack them,' George said and he pushed Harry into the battlefield unprepared. A little lost he stood in between the two teams, but then he walked closer to the team y/n was on.

Her team hadn't noticed Harry yet. They were all bent over a drawing in the snow, that Fred was pointing at with his wand. Harry looked over his shoulder and gestured for George and Ginny to come closer. They approached the little hill of snow slowly and carefully. 'ATTACK!' George yelled and he and Ginny jumped over the 'fort', throwing snowballs at the persons behind it. Loud yells and screams erupted from the people behind the snow and a real battle, as the one with the frosting the previous day had been, erupted. Snow was thrown back and forth until everyone was cold and blue and Mrs Weasley called everyone inside for a hot chocolate.

After everyone was warmed up again by Mrs Weasley's amazing hot cacao, they stationed in the living room. Just when Ron was about to sit next to y/n,  Harry jumped in his place, forcing Ron to sit in the spot next to Hermione. Harry shot y/n a sly grin and she rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, while lied his head on her lap, silently asking her to play with his hair.

Y/n chatted with everyone around her while Harry's eyes started to droop. "Done go to sleep now, it's almost time for dinner." He groaned. "But you're comfortable." She flicked his forehead. "I'm up, I'm up." He said sitting up on the sofa. After a few minutes, food was set on the table, once again the table was filled with scrumptious food. Salad, sandwiches, mince pie, pasta and others were layed out.

Conversation flowed nicely on the table as everyone dug into their food. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful day. As Harry watched y/n talk to Ginny animatedly he couldn't help but feel that he was the luckiest man on earth to be with a person like her. He held her hand under that table and she intertwined her fingers with his. They smiled at each other, eyes holding so much love that it almost overflowed.

Harry and y/n were a match made in heaven and neither of them planned on letting the other go anytime soon *******

taglist: @kashishwrites

#harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter #harry potter x you #harry potter self insert

[ladykissingfish]

A Date with an Angel // Part Two // Hidan and Obito

Hidan

“Order whatever you want; I swiped the old fuck’s credit card so dinner’s on him!” Konan panics at this, and refuses to pick up her menu until Hidan takes out his wallet and proves that he was just kidding. Today was Hidan’s turn at entertaining the lovely little lady, and he had originally intended to take her to a heavy metal performance at bar downtown (he was friends with the lead guitarist so they would have gotten in free). However, after he informed Nagato of his plans, he was met with a disappointing “Konan hates heavy metal.”, so he decided to take her to dinner instead. She seemed entirely suspicious when he approached her earlier (wearing a dress shirt and tie instead of his usual dirty muscle tank and ripped sweatpants), but nonetheless agreed to go with him to a quiet little cafe a few blocks down from the house. Konan has never really known what to make of Hidan. He was just slightly older than Deidara, but (in Konan’s opinion) ranking much higher on the “immaturity” wheel. He’s been nicknamed by the rest of the group as “Mr. Never-Dies”, because no matter what happens, what job he takes on, how badly he’s hurt ... he just keeps getting back up. One time he came home with blood running from the crown of his head and flowing into his boots, but rather than let anyone take him to a hospital, Hidan took out a needle and made Kakuzu stitch the gash on his forehead. No painkillers, no alcohol, not even any flinching. Anyone else would have been substantially messed up after such a heavy blood loss ... but Hidan was just fine, in fact laughing and talking like nothing was amiss. He’s extremely foul-mouthed and has a thing for telling dirty jokes, but today, on his date with Konan, he’s making a great effort to restrain himself. Hidan wants very badly to put his arm around her waist as he walks along beside her, but resists as he knows Nagato will tear him a new asshole if he makes her in anyway uncomfortable. He’s at a loss for what to talk to her about, so he simply asks her how she’s feeling. There’s a pause, and she goes “I’m not really sure. I lost my mood ring yesterday.” He bursts out laughing, so hard that she blushes. “That’s pretty damn funny, lady.”Konan tilts her head in surprise; nobody had ever complimented her humor before. In fact she’s usually told that the few jokes she does make are very flat, or somewhat dark. Fast forward to the cafe, where Konan is surprised again that Hidan asks for a table that’s “quiet”, and pulls out her chair for her. The waiter comes back and Konan is amused by the amount of food that Hidan is ordering. When it’s her turn, her mind is a blank, so she just orders the last thing he said (which was spaghetti and meatballs). “That’s all?” he asks, as the waiter collects their menus and leaves. “No wonder you’re so slender.” She asks him how in the world HE’S so skinny when he eats so much, and he explains he has a fast metabolism, like his mother. Konan is interested; she’s never heard him mention his family before. As if reading her mind, he says, “Me and those guys just don’t get along. They wrote me off as a brain-dead bastard when I said I wasn’t goin’ to college.” “College isn’t everything, you know. People have to do what’s right for them.” Hidan agrees, and begins telling her his much he enjoys working for Nagato, and the type of jobs they do. It’s interesting; when you got him away from the others and in a calm, quiet setting, Hidan was ... normal. Normal and actually very charming. And although he never says it out-loud, Konan gets the strong impression that Hidan has come to consider the rest of the group as being a surrogate family. Then the food comes out and Hidan turns into a different creature altogether. He eats much like an animal, viciously and indiscriminately. But instead of being disgusted by this, Konan ... feels relaxed. There’s an unspoken feeling here, that with Hidan, she can let go and be herself. She doesn’t have to worry about looking pretty, or eating daintily, or acting “like a lady”. In fact Hidan orders them ice cream sundaes for dessert,

then challenges her to see who can eat theirs the fastest. Hidan ends up winning, but they end up with a horrible case of brain-freeze that leaves them both paralyzed for several moments ... yet laughing pretty hard. Even though Konan ate far less than Hidan, she feels quite stuffed nonetheless and mentions this to Hidan, who immediately offers to give her a piggy back ride home. She hesitates to accept; it’s a ways home and Konan feels she’s not the lightest woman in the world (especially after a big meal). But he insists, and she lets him hoist her into his back and trot back to the house with her. They laugh and joke the entire way, with Hidan making numerous comments about how light she is and how good she smells. “That’s one thing about living in a house full of guys for so long; I got so used to the smell of ass and dirty socks and Doritos that I forgot there’s people in the world who know what the fuck deodorant and shampoo are!” Konan laughs so hard at this that she slips off Hidan’s back and lands on her knees in the grass, holding her stomach and howling. Seeing that she likely won’t calm down anytime soon to grab onto his back again, Hidan picks her up and carries her in his arms the last two blocks home. He sets her down gently outside the front door, telling her how much fun she is to be with, when she throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” she says as she lets him go, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” He hesitates, then leans down and very gently kisses her cheek, before telling her that she’s welcome to hang out with him anytime, because “I’ve got a million more jokes, doll, and I’ll gladly tell ‘em all to you.” He walks her to her room and chances giving her another kiss, this one on the forehead, before bidding her Goodnight.

Obito

“Can I ask you a question?” “Yeah?” “When we’re at home, when we’re around the others, why do you wear that thing?” It’s the next day, and Konan is at a bar (ironically, the same one that Hidan wanted to take her to the previous day) with Obito. Out of everyone in the house, Obito is the one that strikes Konan as being the most mysterious. To begin with, the day she met him he was wearing a unique orange half-mask over his face ... and never took it off. She questioned Nagato about it but he seemed reluctant to speak on Obito’s unique fashion choice, and none of the others acted as though there was anything strange about it. He joined he others for dinner each night but seemed to prefer sweets to actual food, and he was quiet. Nagato told Konan that Obito was more or less his right hand man within the organization, and had helped him recruit the other members. Obito never spoke to her unless she spoke first ... so naturally she had been surprised when he approached her as she was coming out of her room, and asked if she minded joining him for “a quick drink”. The bar, like everything else, was in walking distance of the house; but Obito took her on the back of his motorcycle. It was a short ride but an exhilarating one ... and it got even more exciting when, upon entering the bar, Obito glanced around, saw there weren’t many people, and took off his mask. He found them a seat at a table near the back, and ordered them both a glass of wine. Konan had tried her hardest not to stare at his face ((which was difficult; aside from a few jagged scars on the left side and what looked like a damaged eye, he was quite handsome)) but eventually he caught her looking, hence giving her the bravery to pose her question. Obito paused for several moments, as if contemplating what to say. “Why do women wear makeup? Why do people dye their hair or get piercings or tattoos or wear crazy clothes? It’s because they have something about themselves that they don’t like, so they try to cover it up. I don’t like my face. I haven’t since my accident.” Konan blinks, genuinely surprised at Obito’s answer. She chances it to ask “Accident?” He gave her a wry smile and ordered himself a shot of whiskey (and her an ice tea) saying he needed something stronger to tell her about it. “When I was a kid, my parents liked to go rock climbing. Took me with to National parks every summer. One year my dad got drunk and took me and my mom up a dangerous path. He pulled on a rock the wrong way, and it came out of the mountain, along with a bunch more, and crashed down on us. Really long fall; mom and dad killed right away. But me ... I guess the devil decided he wasn’t done with me. A boulder crushed this entire side of my body, and my face got fucked ... but I lived. Had to go to a lot of physical therapy. Also had to go live with my uncle Madara — that guy’s a piece of work. But anyway I lived and here we are, right?” Konan is quiet for a long while, watching the ice cubes float around in her glass. “I like you like this,” she finally says, and this time she’s looking him directly in the face. “I understand if you want to be someone different, or like, if you feel like your mask makes you different, but, if you ever want to be THIS Obito ... please come to my room. We can talk, we can listen to music and eat junk and watch movies and talk about books and —“ Obito interrupts her by putting both arms around her, squeezing her warmly. “Thank you, Konan.” They stay for another few hours, and Konan is pleasantly surprised to find that Obito without the mask, Obito away from the house ... is fantastic. He teaches her how to play pool, he keeps her laughing with countless stories about growing up with his “crazy uncle”. At one point in the night he convinces her to join him at the karaoke machine on the stage, and the two sing duets of Disney songs (to the thunderous applause of the few people at the bar).The ride back home is mostly quiet, him driving slower this time and her holding on to him, each filled with their own thoughts. Before they get to the front

door, Konan lifts Obito’s mask just the slightest bit, and kisses his cheek. “This is the best night I’ve had in a long, long time. I appreciate you letting me get to know you.” He smiles and blushes, then slides the mask back into place before opening the front door. Some of the others are in the living room, and Obito quietly greets them before heading to his room. Konan was awed by how effortless the switch from animated and somewhat goofy to reserved and calm seemed to be for him ... and found herself wondering if any of the others were putting on a facade as well. She takes her shower and goes to her room, intending to go to sleep early, but after about an hour of restlessly tossing back and forth, she gives it up. She turns her light back on and picks up the remote to her tv, thinking that maybe a good, boring show will put her to sleep. But before she can find anything, a knock comes on the door. She goes to open it, and is surprised to find Obito standing there. “I saw the light underneath your door. Can I come in?” She takes him by the arm and pulls him inside. Once inside, he slides off his mask and, looking around, finds a seat for himself on one of Konan’s chairs. He opens up his jacket to reveal a small book, worn and obviously read many times. “I saw you reading this last week. I remember you telling Sasori that you finished it. I was wondering; what did you think in Chapter seven, when —“

#the akatsuki #a date with an angel #first date #konan #konan akatsuki #hidan #tobi #hidakona #tobikona

[futurebicon]

Remus and Sirius picking Julian up from hockey practice (if you want to obviously)

THIS IS AMAZING YES IM IN LOVE WITH THIS

“You didn’t have to come, you know that?” Remus held Sirius’s hand as he drove to the rink.

“I know. But I wanted too, I love your little brother”

“He adores you” Remus smiled at him softly.

“Eyes on the road, l'amour” Sirius laughed.

“I think a second off the road going 10 miles per hour while pulling into a basically empty parking lot to look into my boyfriends eyes, isn’t too bad” Remus argues but still pulled his eyes back to the road.

He pulled into a spot easily and set his hand on the door handle, before he could pull it he reached over and grabbed the front of Sirius’s, well his, sweatshirt and pulled Sirius’s lips to his.

Sirius hummed in surprise but kissed back quickly.

“What was that for?” He smiled when they pulled away.

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend?” Remus teased.

“Oh you definitely can” Sirius kissed him again. “Put I want to see your brother”

They got out of the car quickly and walked into the small ice rink.

“REMUS” they heard a voice shout before Julian came barreling towards his brother.

He collided with his legs almost knocking both of them over but Sirius grabbed them before they could fall.

“Hey Jules” Remus laughed. Julian let go and hugged Sirius too.

“Hi Sirius”

“Salut, Julian” Sirius hugged him back.

“Woah” a small voice gasped.

“You’re Sirius Black” A young girl with 2 French braids and a hockey bag on her shoulder gasped.

“Hi” Sirius said shyly, moving the slightest bit closer to Remus. All of a sudden 20 kids where swarming him and Remus. Asking for autographs or pictures. Shouting out questions.

“You’re the best player in the whole NFL” a little boy gasped.

The girl from before tugged on his arm, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to be just like you when I’m older. Except date a boy. Because you said it’s okay to date a girl” she told him.

“It is completly okay. I’m sure you’ll be a better hockey player than me” he beamed.

“That’s not possible, no ones better than you” a boy argued.

“Especially not a girl” someone else stated.

“Hey, you better be careful. Girls are as strong as boys. She can turn around and beat you up without any effort.” Sirius warned him.

“You’ll be sorry when I’m a famous hockey player and your working in an office” she told him.

Sirius laughed. “That’s very true”

“I want to be just like you when I’m older” a little boy looked at Remus like he was his favorite person in the whole world, Sirius would have to agree.

“You get to heal the players and that’s so cool”

“It is pretty cool” Remus smiled.

“Alright, alright. Give them some space.” An older voice called out. The sea of children parted like the Red Sea to let a woman with curly orange hair through.

“Remus Lupin” she hugged the ex hockey player.

“Hi Coach Kinter” he greeted his childhood coach.

“Hope this ones not giving you too much trouble” Remus said when he pulled away, ruffling Julians hair.

“He set a mouse loose in the locker room last week”

“Julian Lupin” Remus exclaimed as Sirius burst out laughing.

“It was harmless, and Alec caught it before it got lost” The younger Lupin defended himself.

Remus shook his head, he couldn’t hide the smile that creeped onto his face.

“Well we should get going, but it was nice seeing you again” Remus said goodbye and walked out to the car. Sirius giving his little brother a piggy back ride as Remus carried the heavy hockey bag.

“Can we get ice cream please please please” Julian begged when they got in the car.

“We’re having dinner in an hour.”

“So?” Julian wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“I want ice cream too. Please?” Sirius’s asked him. Pouting his bottom lip.

“Fine” Remus groaned, leaning over and kissing Sirius’s lips, he was really tempted to bite at his pouted lip but remembered that his little brother was in the car.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. And towards the ice cream shop in the small town.

“What are the flavors for today?” The ice cream shop had new flavors everyday.

Sirius pulled out his phone and pulled up the website.

“Chocolate fudge brownie, key lime pie, dirty turtle, blueberry, and salted caramel.” He read off.

“Blueberry” Julian called out.

“Salted caramel” Remus said.

“I’m getting the chocolate fudge brownie”

“Boring” Remus rolled his eyes.

“What?” Sirius asked, mocking offense.

“Chocolate brownie is so basic”

“So is salted caramel” he shot back.

“No because they make their salted caramel diffferent. And you need to try new things” Remus told him.

“Okay Mr. ‘I-get-vanilla-and-sprinkles-everytime-we-go-to-dairy-Queen”

“ITS GOOD” Remus exclaimed.

“SO IS CHOCOLATE AND BROWNIES” Sirius laughed back.

“You get chocolate and brownie blizzard everytime we go to Dairy Queen so you can’t even make fun of me”

“Remus, love. It’s vanilla and sprinkles”

Remus laughed, the car bouncing as they drove through the gravel parking lot of the ice cream parlor.

“You guys want to stay in here and I’ll go order?” He asked.

“Blueberry right Jules” Julian nodded from the backseat.

Remus leaned over and kissed Sirius quickly before getting out and going to order.

“When’s your next game?” Jules asked a few seconds later.

“2 weeks against the Toronto Maple Leafs” he told him.

“Are you going to win?”

“I hope so. They’re a pretty aggressive team but I think we’ve had a good season.”

“Are you going to marry my brother?” He asked out of the blue. Sirius blinked a few times, surprised by the question.

“I- yeah. Yeah, I think I will” he smiled, he had the thought many times. He couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.

“Cool. Sirius Black will be my uncle.”

“Don’t tell yourself brother I said that though” He looked in the rear view mirror and watched Julian make a zipper motion across his lips.

Remus interrupted when he came back with the ice cream. Handing it out to each of them.

“Want to drive over to the lake and eat” the boys all nodded and enjoyed the scenic drive to an even more scenic view.

They pulled up to the lake and got out, sitting on the shore as they at their ice cream in comfortable silence. Sirius had his head on Remus’s shoulder. He had grown up in busy cities. Views like this were few and far between.

“C'est joli” Sirius said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah I guess it is” Remus smiled, the sight of his boyfriend amazed at the view of the lake with trees surrounding it and hills in the background. He leaned down and left a kiss in his hair.

“Are we all done?” Remus asked, looking at all the empty cups.

“Yep” Julian said, tossing his spoon into the lake.

“Absolutely not. Now you have to go get that.” Remus exclaimed.

“But my shoes” Julian looked at him like he was insane.

“I don’t care. Should of thought about that before you littered. Hurry up or your going to end up swimming to get it out.”

Julian grumbled but stepped in the ankle high water to pick up the plastic spoon.

“Go throw it away. And just for that you can throw away ours too” he handed his little brother Sirius and his cups.

Jules rolled his eyes but took them to the trash can anyway. Remus watched him to make sure he actually threw them away.

“You’re a good big brother” Sirius smiled at him, connecting their lips.

“Well thank you” Remus muttered against his lips, deepening it slightly.

“Ewww” Julian exclaimed.

They pulled away, Sirius wiping his lips.

“Ready?” Remus asked, standing up. He reached his hand out and pulled Sirius up. Kissing him again.

“You’re both gross, stop kissing” Julian fake gagged and walked towards the car.

“I love you” Remus told Sirius.

“Love you too”

They linked their hands together as they walked back to the car.

“No one tells mom about this. She’ll have my head” Remus told them. They all nodded.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’s thigh, squeezing lightly as he drove towards his house.

“We’re home” Remus called out as he walked in the house.

“Kitchen” his dad responded.

His mother took one look at them and put her hand on her hip. “Why is Julians mouth blue?”

“Sorry” Remus blushed.

“Dinners in 30 minutes. I expect it all eaten”

“Yes ma’am” they all told her.

@lumosinlove

A lot of this is based off my own hometown because I forgot where Remus is from. Also I love Julian Lupin with my entire heart.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #wolfstar #fluff #julian lupin #coop #coops #sweater weather lumosinlove

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt 3 (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4, Pt 5)

-----

There were two things in life that Peter was unequivocally certain were true.

Number one was that Monday mornings were a universally despised, unpleasant experience that no weekend could ever ease the pain of having to endure.

And number two: Sit-ups were a specific and profound mechanism of torture that no person should ever be required to engage in, recreationally or mandated.

Of course, it would be just his luck that the two were combined on this very Monday morning.

It was cruel and unusual is what it was, Peter thought, hands curled at his temples as he pushes himself into a sitting position, falling back onto the dewy grass with a thud that steals the breath from his chest.

Bucky, holding his ankles, encourages him to complete his set.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps, his stomach trembling as he pulls himself up again. “I - oh fuck - I hate this. I hate exercise.”

Bucky squeezes his ankles tighter. “C’mon, Parker, only three more. You can do it.”

Peter shakes his head, even as he pulls himself up again with a pained groan.

“No, I can’t. Make it stop.”

“Two more. You got it. Sit-ups are not the boss of you.”

“Yes - ahh - they are!”

“One more!”

Sweat pours down his neck and his muscles protest as he pulls himself up for the last time. He gets probably only most of the way up before his gravity slams to the ground.

Bucky slaps his bare calf encouragingly as Peter stares up into the glaring morning sun, arms splayed out, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Oh, god. Never again. That was the worst. 

Covering his eyes with his quivering arms he wonders if maybe coach will indulge him just this once. Maybe he can stay here until training is over, perhaps curl up into a ball and try to blend in with the grass so that no one sees him or subjects him to any more exercise. 

Except Coach Danvers is already yelling at him to get off the ground and get moving.

He smacks his hands over his ears but it’s no use.

“Get up Parker, last warning!”

“Respite!” He yells back pleadingly, curling in tighter upon himself. “Please!”

Her whistle pierces the air.

“Now!”

Coach has been on edge all morning. Her harsh has turned razor edged in the face of their upcoming match against Kingston this Thursday, reminding the team of her expectations, tolerating nothing other than complete dedication.

Which, whatever.

Peter’s dedicated, okay? It’s Monday. He dragged his ass out of bed to be here at an unholy hour, exhausted and bloated from his indulgent weekend, didn’t he?

Erring on the margin of spite towards Danvers and self motivation, which he suspects is her aim, he pushes himself back up. Taking each of Bucky’s ankles in his grip, he starts counting as Bucky begins his set. 

Not that he needs the assistance, Bucky proves his strength by ripping through the set like a bull stampeding through a brick wall. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Dude’s crazy athletic.

It’s really not fair.

As he mentally counts the reps, Peter thinks Bucky’s the kind of fit that Peter both hoped and never hoped to be. He’s effortlessly capable at any physical task, but he works hard for it, harder than Peter would ever dream of working, dedicating hours to gym time and conditioning. Bucky’s not even out of breath when he strikes up conversation. 

“How was your weekend, PP?”

“S’okay. Played Mario Kart with my Aunt all weekend.”

Bucky grins as his upper half rises to meet his knees. “Oh, party animal. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” Peter grins wryly, taking one of his hands from the other’s ankle to push the sweat-damp hair from his eyes. “Kicked my ass though. She always takes Toad.”

“Switch?”

“Nah, GameCube. How was your weekend?”

“Boring. Parents were home all weekend and wanted some ‘family time’.”

“So, you just watched The Voice all weekend?”

“Yup.”

“Nat sneak in after?”

“Yup. How’d it go with Stark on Friday?” Bucky accepts Peter’s hand as he finishes his set. Peter pulls him up and pats him on the back.

The set off in a jog to complete a lap of the field, Coach yells that only five minutes are left, urging them to pick up speed. Peter’s lungs burn when he speaks.

“It was fine.”

Bucky looks at him dubiously, flyaways whipping at his face.

“Well not like, fine-fine, but no bloodshed. See? All limbs intact.” He holds his arms out mid-sprint. 

“Wow, so you’re basically best friends now.”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands and braid each other’s hair?”

Incensed, Peter shoves at Bucky to the sound of his snickering,

“Ew, stop, I just had breakfast. Look, the first experience was painful enough. Can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about it.”

---

“And then he hit on my Aunt,” Peter complains in the showers, soaping up his chest. “Literally right in front of me. Who does that?”

“Did she flirt back?” Bucky asks, dipping his head into the spray. 

“What? No. He said he was just trying to get under my skin,” he puts his head beneath his own shower head, the water pleasantly lukewarm against his heated skin. “I mean, what kind of psychopath does that?”

“Yeah, but your aunt is super hot though,” Wilson says to his right. “Stark’s an asshole, but he’s not crazy.”

There is a general murmur of agreement around the showers. 

“I’m going to need you all to shut up right now,” Peter warns, turning to point at them all. “Keep my aunts name out of your mouth while you’re washing your balls, alright?”

“You heard him, move on,” Rogers cuts in, offering Peter a sympathetic smile. 

He nods gratefully as conversation quickly turns to girls, grades and the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays. There was a reason why Peter was on Roger’s side all these weeks ago, he thinks, observing how the entire team respects his command without query. The guy was just interested in doing the right thing, and that’s pretty cool.

By the time they’re all dried and dressed, the topic is forgotten, much to Peter’s relief. He’s nearly late to first period though, too busy watching Wilson and Barnes smack each other with wet towels and attempting to tame his unruly curls into something resembling neatness. He’s not proud of the amount of gel it takes, but it’s what he’s got to work with. 

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his appearance or anything, but he has a routine that he sticks to. Gel and lots of it.

Once, in third grade, Flash pulled one of Peter’s tightly coiled ringlet between his fingers, pulled on it and said oink. Peter still had some lingering baby fat at the time and so, as cruel as children can be, Peter was donned Piggy Parker for a time afterwards. Sometimes Porky Parker. They’re friends now, but the oinking and snuffling that followed him around the playground still haunts him.

Anyway.

On the way to first period Rogers walks alongside him down the hall. They have English together, but usually make their way separately. It kind of weirded Peter out for a moment because while they’re team-mates, they’re not really friends. 

“Heard you got paired with Stark for an assignment,” the other boy says, his wry smile caught between amused and sympathetic. “That’s shit luck, Parker.” 

“You’re telling me,” Peter agrees, waving to Ned and Betty as they pass. “Dude’s a freakin’ prick.”

Rogers bumps their shoulders together.

“You said it. Want me to have a word with him, get him to back off?”

“Nah,” Peter shakes his head. “I can handle Stark, he’s just some bored rich kid looking for a fight. Besides,” he gives Rogers a once-over, “pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your distance after your last brawl with him.”

“True,” he concedes, clamping Peter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as they stop before their room. “But we’re a team, alright? Just say the word and I’ll encourage some sense into him. Promise to be gentle.”

Peter clamps his hands over his heart with a flair of drama, despite being truly touched. “You’re my hero, Captain Rogers.”

Rogers rolls his eyes and shoves him into the classroom.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s go.”

Inside, he smiles sheepishly at Mrs Perez who glowers at them for their lateness and takes his usual seat between Clint and Shuri. He signs a good morning to the former and smiles at the latter, who is staring down at her desk with disdain.

“What’s wrong?” He nudges her chair with his foot to grab her attention.

“The curriculum.” She raises her head and points to the board miserably. It reads Lord of the Flies.

Oh, great. He could use the nap.

Peter smiles sympathetically, opening his nearly full notebook up to a blank page. “How was your weekend?”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Mmm,” She nods, gesturing airily. “You know, eh. Oh, oh! I heard you spent the weekend getting cosy with Stark,” Shuri follows, pretending to search through their textbook. “Wow, that’s a three-sixty, PP. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Peter hisses, voice lowering when their teacher looks around as roll-call commences. “That’s not -- ”

“Parker!” Perez yells for roll call.

“Present!”

Shuri snickers as Peter’s hand shoots up.

Lucky for him it’s the last he hears of it.

Kinda.

---

His next class is Bio with MJ who, thankfully, says very little through class. She inspects him with bleary eyes when he enters, nursing a coffee in her hands, always earlier than Peter who has to come from the other side of the school.

Peter’s grateful for the reprieve. When she does speak to him, it’s to borrow a pen or to offer him a sip of her coffee. It’s not a lab class today, only note-taking and listening to their teacher drone on about plant anatomy in the same monotone, so he accepts the bitter black coffee without hesitation.

It’s only then that he ventures to initiate conversation.

“So,” he begins precariously, doodling in his notebook, “how was your weekend?”

She shrugs, appearing more awake than earlier. “It was okay. You?”

“It was okay.”

And that was that, he’s relieved to note, companionable silence falling between again as they turn their attention to their teacher again. It’s not until they’re packing up their books at the end of class that MJ speaks to him again.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, dude. Save us a table?”

“You bet. Oh, and by the way, I heard Stark is gonna be your new step-daddy. Congrats.”

Peter groans.

“How do you -- you know what, no,” he says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders and making a x with his arms. “Nope. No more talking about Stark, he is persona non grata. I’m traumatised enough.”

MJ pushes his glasses up after they slipped precariously down his nose during his declaration. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

He bumps their shoulders together on the way out of the room and shakes his head.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

---

Ned texts him during recess; Peter is taking an extended break in the bathroom despite not needing to be there, but he’s definitely not hiding, nope. He’s just chilling in the cubicle.

< heard stark spent the weekend < lol wtf < plz verify < actually i don’t want to know < no wait i do tell me < dude

< hello?

----

Traitors, all of them.

He wonders if he should leave this school and start anew elsewhere.

---

Here’s the thing.

As much as Peter loves his friends, he has limits to how long he can spend with them before needing a time out.

They’re his motley crew of village idiots. Some he’s known since first grade, like Ned and Flash, others only since he came to the school and subsequently, the football team.

This school headhunted him because of his academic merit. With his pursuit of scholastic excellence - and the fact that some of his best friends would be attending the school, he applied for and was awarded a scholarship. It was a no-brainer - he had big dreams and even bigger expectations of himself to achieve them and he wanted May to be proud of him.

Which was why when it was suggested that he try out for JV, having exhibited some physicality during gym class, he decided to give it a try. It would look great to have on his applications, he was assured.

So he did. Somehow his wiry frame and years of gymnastics was considered an asset and he was promptly recruited by Coach Danvers. At first he deeply regretted the additional commitment -- the early hours, the soreness, adapting to the internal culture within the team. But he’s persevered and he’s glad that he did. 

And for the most part, he copes okay. He can juggle football obligations and after-school activities and the odd tutoring jobs here and there and stay sane, right?

Sort of.

Because as grateful as he was for his broad circle of friends, Peter was still, at heart, an introvert. And right now, his social energy is running on fumes. 

It’s because of this - and nothing to do with the relentless questions about Stark - that Peter retreats to the library at lunch that day. 

Nestled away in the dusty, back corner, near the collection of old encyclopaedias that nobody reads, are an assortment of bean bags. It’s away from the main area, quiet and disregarded by most. It used to be a thriving recreational area way before Peter’s time, but there wasn’t any maintenance to it over the years. Now the bags are old, terribly lumpy and are speckled with suspicious stains, the fabric is thinning and aged. Most people purposefully avoid the old rec area, which is why Peter likes this spot best. It’s his secret hiding space.

He prepares to disassociate for the next forty minutes by getting comfortable on his favorite bean bag and popping his earphones in. 

Next, he retrieves his slightly soggy ham-tomato sandwich from his bag and takes a large bite after unwrapping it. The first burst of tomato hits his tongue at the same time as the music begins. 

Ah, to be alone.

Closing his eyes, he allows his body to sink into the bag and for his thoughts to wander freely.

Of course, because his luck is as poor as he is, his seclusion lasts all of three songs before someone else enters into his space. Well it’s not his space, technically, but it should be. 

When Peter creaks an eye open to see who is intruding he’s surprised to see Thor perched on the bean-chair opposite him. They catch each others stare and smile.

Well, alone time is overrated. 

Maybe his luck isn’t down the drain after all - because this is his opportunity to prove he isn’t a total fumbling loser. He doesn’t know which deity he pleased to be alone in a quiet corner of the library with Thor, but someone up there is clearly looking out for him.

He wants to say something, to strike up a conversation that might make Peter seem cool and only casually interested - something that would make him sound both smart and like, available.

But not too available. 

With little success, Peter wracks his brain for the best opening line but frets because he’s ever been cool or collected a day in his life. And great, now he’s just been sitting there smiling for like two whole minutes like an absolute weirdo. Come on, Parker, say something! 

Thor acts well before Peter has the chance to say anything, pointing at him, his mouth moving with words Peter can’t hear. 

Realising a moment too late that his earphones are still playing music from his phone, Peter hurries to tug them out if his ears, smacking himself in the face in the .

“Sorry, I was --” Peter gestures to his ears, hands shaking, cheeks going hot. God, Thor is talking to him. Him! Peter Parker! “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said I like your shirt!” Thor replies, way more loudly than what would normally be socially acceptable for a library, but Peter does not care. Thor likes his shirt.

“This?” He asks, gesturing downwards to his shirt where crumbs are dusted at the collar. “You like Nirvana?”

“I do not know Nirvana,” Thor smiles, “but it looks very cool. Peter, right?”

“Uh yeah,” he nods, face positively flaming because again, he knows Peter’s name. Quickly sweeping the crumbs from his shirt, he extends his hand out to the older boy who shakes his hand. Holy shit. Be cool. “I’m Parker -- I mean, Peter. Yes. Nice to be here. I mean, nice to be speaking. To you.”

Even as Peter’s arm is roughly jostled with Thor’s exuberant hand-shaking embarrassment crawls up his neck, and he wants to disintegrate into the bean bag where no one has to witness his persistent, glaring awkwardness. Palms sweating, Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting on how big Thor’s hands are.

Stop it, he scolds himself, be normal, play it cool.

“Thor, right?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t doodle their initials together in his notebooks. “You were at training last week.”

“Yes, you fell on your face,” Thor nods, gesturing to the yellowed bruising on his jaw, “I saw.”

“Oh, okay, so you saw that! Uhh -- ” Peter waves a hand at his face, laughing nervously. “This? It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”

“You are clumsy,” Thor states, not unkindly.

“Well, no -- I mean, yes --” Peter tries to come up with an explanation, but falls short. “I’m not always a klutz, promise. Just sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us. Well, not myself, but you know, generally speaking. In any case, I’m happy to see you’re okay.” 

Thor unzips his backpack then and from within it retrieves a truly gargantuan protein shake, followed by a sub wrapped in foil so large it could be the same size as Peter’s forearm. Sneaking a look down at the remainder of his own lunch, his pickings look pretty slim in comparison. 

“Sorry,” Thor says. “Just peckish for a snack.”

Peter watches, dazed, as the older boy consumes half his sub in a single bite, washing it down with several mouthfuls of his shake.

A snack.

“You’re fine. Anyway, football isn’t really my forte,” he admits after a moment, drawing his knees up. “I mean, I’m okay at it and I like it, but it’s not really what I’m best at, y’know?”

The blond boy nods, “I’m on the varsity team,” he proclaims, wiping his mouth. “Whatever that means.”

His accent is so thick it takes Peter half a moment to figure out what it was that he said. 

He’s not sure if Thor is being serious or not but the one question Peter has is why is he so fucking cute? 

A silence follows, albeit not an awkward one. It gives Peter the opportunity to inspect the older boy, nearly a man at his height and stature, of course helped along by the generous distribution of facial hair across his lower face. 

“Uh, did you play football back at home?” Peter asks, keen to keep conversation going. “Soccer?”

“Oh yes,” the boy nods. “Soccer, tennis, volleyball. Water polo. Badminton.”

“Wow,” Peter blinks, “that’s a lot of sport. You’re like the whole Olympics here.”

He’s awarded with a lazy grin for that comment. Thor, to his credit, doesn’t appear to be boastful about his physicality, seemingly a result of his passions instead of a product of vanity.

“Close enough, I suppose. What else do you play, besides football?”

“Uhh --”

Oh god. How is he supposed to respond to that when the idea of doing additional sports outside of football is abhorrent? He can’t tell Thor that. Surely he can fake a common interest. Think of something, Parker, think, think.

The first bell rings, saving him from having to provide a potentially humiliating answer, seeing as all how all that could think of was chess, or PC. Both of which are true and accurate, but not exactly something he thinks that would make him appear more attractive or endearing.

Thank god for fifth period.

“To be continued?” Peter asks as he picks up his backpack, just a little hopeful.

There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs, moment filled with odd squeaks of polystyrene as they attempt to stand.

Thor nods and to Peter’s surprise, doesn’t immediately rush to get away from him. There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs with, odd squeaks of polystyrene as they stand. Instead, he accompanies Peter all the way out of the library, walking alongside him into the main hallway where a flurry of students are intersecting to get to their next class, walking alongside him.

Heads turn to watch them as they depart the library and enter the halls. For a moment, as kids part like the red sea to make way for them - for Thor - Peter wonders if this is what it’s like to be famous. Or to be on the arm of someone famous. It certainly feels like it, because even though the revere isn’t for Peter specifically, it seems like the weight of everyone’s awe is on them.

He doesn’t like the attention. But he likes Thor.

To his delight, the older boy follows him to his locker. Embarrassingly, it sticks when Peter tries to open it, as it usually does. He struggles with it for long, humiliating moments before Thor opens it with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says, blush creeping back up his neck. “You’re like, crazy strong, dude.”

Thor flexes and inspects his own bicep, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Perhaps,” he concedes, smiling roguishly. “Back at home I used to lift my brother for weight training.”

“You what?”

“A story for another time,” Thor shakes his head, shuffling closer to be heard over the traffic of students. “Anyway, I should be going. But there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if I may take a moment --”

Peter freezes. Oh my god, this is it, he thinks. 

It’s happening.

“-- seeing as you and I have similar interests and we seem compatible, it would please me greatly if you would agree to --”

Heart racing, Peter turns, a fervent yes already on his lips.

It dies when there is a loud call of his name in the hall.

“-- Hey, Parker!”

Whatever Thor was going to say wilts at the interruption, seemingly forgotten as he waves at the intruder. Peter turns to see who called out for him and instantly wishes he didn’t.

Heart dropping to his stomach, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. 

This is his luck.

Never has he wanted to melt into the floor and die like he does right now as Stark approaches the pair in quick strides.

Hands shoved into his jean pockets, Stark’s wide eyes dart between them inquisitively, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face, disappearing just as quick.

“Well, pardon me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony places a hand on his heart and leans on the locker next to Peters. “Thor, barely a pleasure as always.”

“Stark,” Thor nods.

Tony simpers, smile saccharine sweet and gestures to an uneasy Peter.

“I am just so sorry to intrude, but would you mind if I spoke to my husband here? He’s such a slippery one, aren’t you, sweetums?”

Thor looks between them, head going to and fro like a pendulum.

“He’s not my husband,” Peter rushes to assure, acutely pincered between Thor’s confusion and Tony’s mischief. “I mean he is, but it’s for an assignment. We’re not really -- it’s not real. I don’t like him.”

Tony exhales heavily, looking at Thor with dismay. “That’s not what he said in our wedding vows.”

Peter wants to punch him in the throat.

“I understand,” Thor smiles, patting each of them on the shoulder. He dips his chin and catches Peter’s eye. “To be continued?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter nods enthusiastically, probably too enthusiastically, he thinks, as his aim is to pretend to be cool and disinterested, but he doesn’t even care because maybe not all is lost after all. “To be continued. See you.”

All of the pomp bleeds away from Tony as Thor walks away, his posture turning into a slump against the locker.

The smile drops from Peter’s face. He sends Tony a heated glare as he retrieves from his books, shoving them into his bag.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, slamming his locker shut. “You have the worst timing, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the other boy shrugs. “What can I say, I’m delightful.”

“You’re deplorable.”

Tony gasps in mock offence. “Deplorable? Good lord, Parker, is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“If the shoe fits,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I have to go to class. Say what you want or move out of the way.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon, what were you and He-Man grunting about, hmm? Grr, me big, you tiny?”

“Unless you have a point,” Peter asks, pointing to the main hall, “I’m leaving.”

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, however the glib expression doesn’t quite leave his face. But at that moment Peter doesn’t have it within him to care, he’s not here to entertain him and sooner they get this over with, the better.

“Alright, alright, buzzkill. Come outside, I have to talk to you about the assignment.”

Peter looks at him, perturbed. 

“I need a smoke,” he explains, tutting at Peter dispiritedly. “Also, don’t lie, I know it’s your free period.”

He doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, heading straight for the double doors that lead to the courtyard at a sedate enough pace for Peter to follow. Nonetheless he jogs a few paces to catch up after debating whether or not it was a good idea to follow or if he should hide in the boys bathroom.

Again.

It’s fairly chilly out, the wind whipping through his clothes. He wishes he had a scarf or gloves or something, opting to shove his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and hooking the hood over his head.

“How do you know it’s my free period?” he queries loud enough to be heard over the wind. 

“Because,” Tony turns to walk backwards, the breeze whistling around them, “it’s also my free period and you always stink up the library so I can’t go there,” he rounds the corner to lead Peter to the shaded area behind the auditorium where a few students are lingering, most of them smoking. 

“And you take the best seat. Personally, I think it’s selfish. I can’t possibly sit there after your ass has warmed it.”

Willing himself to not rise to Tony’s level of pettiness, he crosses his arms over his chest as they come to a stop. The wind is at full force now that the surrounding buildings aren’t taking the brunt of it and it is cold as all hell, although Tony’s in a black t-shirt and doesn’t look affected at all, probably because he’s cold-blooded or warmed by hellfire.

Tony cups his hands over his lighter to protect the flame from the breeze, struggling briefly to light his cigarette. Once the end is properly alight, Tony takes a drag while staring at him. 

His hand comes to rest at his thigh, smoke rising idly from the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales the smoke in Peters direction.

“Wow. You’re disgusting,” he waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the smell. “Don’t you know second-hand smoke can kill?”

"Yes. Do you want a drag to speed up the process?”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says as Tony seems to find himself funny, offering up the cigarette in jest. Peter has half a mind to snatch it out of his hands and stomp on it. “I know that’s hard for you.”

“I’m joking, okay. I thought the wind would redirect the smoke. My bad.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, the assignment? Still waiting for whatever was so urgent."

Tony takes another drag, flicking ash to the ground before answering.

“I booked an appointment with a realtor for tomorrow after school.”

That has Peter’s curiosity piqued. “Really? Where?”

“LIC. One of the agents has agreed to be a reference so our domestic nightmare can be officially documented. Yay, go team.”

“Yay,” Peter deadpans. “What time?”

“Appointment’s at four-thirty,” Tony retrieves his phone from his pocket and hands it to Peter. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details.”

Peter accepts it with a grimace. It’s warm from Tony’s body heat. Ugh.

“And now you can say: ‘thank you for being proactive, Tony, you’re so much better than me, Tony’.”

“Thank you for being proactive, Anthony, even if you’re a self-aggrandizing jerk,” Peter mutters, voice getting progressively more sarcastic. 

A wide smile blooms on Tony’s face, clearly pleased with himself. 

“You’re welcome, Parker.”

He is going to let that one go, Peter decides, feeling magnanimous on spite of the circumstances. He’d never admit it, but he’s kinda surprised by Tony’s apparent initiative, and even genuinely a little grateful that the other boy has arranged this so quickly. Or even that he thought to arrange it at all - field research was one of the highest scoring components on the rubric for this assignment.

Eyes flicking up for a moment, he assesses the other boy. Maybe he’s not as much of a slacker as Peter thought he was.

Tony, slumped against the brick wall, rubs his stomach and burps quietly. 

Or maybe he is.

Nevertheless, Peter types in his details and saves his contact in Tony’s phone as Your Better Half. 

Peter isn’t too much to look at, he knows, but he’s not the weak link here.

Tony accepts the phone back and wipes the touch screen on his shirt before pocketing it. 

“Alright then, meet me after school tomorrow in the parking lot. Don’t be late,” he flicks his cigarette to the ground and steps on it to put it out. Tony bends at the waist then to pick up the stub, clutching it in his fist for later disposal instead of leaving it as litter.

That surprises Peter a little, it’s more thoughtful, conscious a gesture than he would have expected to come from Stark. Not that he’s ever personally seen such behaviour from him, but it wouldn’t be a stretch with his devil-may-care attitude. Would it?

He’s about to make mention of heading back inside when Stark takes two purposeful steps towards Peter, bridging the gap between them. 

Peter freezes on the spot, breath caught in his chest as Tony brings them nose-to-nose.

He flicks his eyes down at Tony’s lips when his solemn expression morphs into an impish smile.

“Dude, what -- ?”

While Peter is distracted, Tony’s hands dart out to grip the strings of Peter’s hoodie, tugging them until the hood shrinks around his face.

“Do me a solid and try to wear something that doesn’t make you look like you’re a step away from lining up at a soup kitchen, okay? Y’know, something nice.”

Peter smacks his hands away furiously, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Tony backs away, snickering.

“You really get off on being a prized piece of shit, don’t you?” he mutters, somewhat self conscious as he tries to correct the hood. “Poor jokes, that’s real nice. Sorry not all of us were born wearing Balenciaga.”

He continues to struggle with it as they move away and head back towards the main building, pushing it off his head altogether. 

“Calm down, Charlie Brown, it’s not that deep,” Tony says drily, although his flippant demeanour softens significantly. “I have no doubt that you’d still manage to look like a hobo even if you were loaded, okay. You just have that grubby vibe.” Tony claps his hands together. “So, tomorrow. Meet me in the parking lot. Yes?”

Inside, away from the wind, Peter is still helpless to quell the hurricane that is Tony Stark. He gives him a tired thumbs up.

With that Tony sets off in the opposite direction, leaving Peter to wonder what the hell just happened, and what his life has become these last few days. 

“What a jackass,” he says to himself.

Now alone, he rubs his hands up and down his face, fruitlessly attempting to scrub away the memory of Tony close to him, eyes warm with mirth, the heat of his body up close and the smell of nicotine on his breath as he quite literally tugged Peter’s strings. It takes longer than he likes to will the image away and to calm the furious beat of his heart.

Furious; a feeling Peter is becoming progressively more familiar - and uncomfortable with.

Ben used to say that being angry at someone was allowing them to take up space in your head, rent free. He was right, because it never served Peter well to house animosity when acceptance was kinder to his soul and psyche, and to others -- but he can’t help it with this guy. Tony Stark is like an ear worm of the brain. He has this completely obnoxious way of making himself front and centre despite Peter’s best efforts to cast him to the sidelines.

While he’s willing himself to move on his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a new message.

> ur not my better half, loser > why r u like this > nvm i already know lol. > remember, don’t be late 2morrow

Peter, just a little satisfied with himself for getting under Tony’s skin, saves his contact as Tiny Stank and types back quickly, eager to get back to his seat in the library - assuming Stark hasn’t already occupied it - and make the best of his remaining free period.

<  whatever helps u sleep at night < also, plz lose my number after this is over

> way ahead of u, princess > say hi to aunt may for me

Ugh, Peter cringes, pocketing his phone without replying.

That guy is the worst.

---

*

*

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends, @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix

#starker #ironspider #high school au #tony stark x peter parker

[thesilverhufflepuff]

Chocolate chip cookies ~ Sirius Black

Type : Just lots of Fluff <3

Pairing : Sirius x female reader

Warnings : A little bit of cursing idk if there is anything let me know

(Here no house is specified but let's just say you sleep and stay in the Gryffindoor common room )

Description : Sirius and you decided to bake cookies and him comforting you and telling you to not over-work yourself.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It was a cold Saturday evening . You and your boyfriend Sirius were cuddled on the Gryffindoor common room couch with a blanket around you. You both were staring at the fire.

You were already very tired due to the loads of work given by Slughorn and because of the OWL's coming nearby. You just wanted to sleep for a whole day but your life sucks.

And Sirius had his head on your hand for a whole half an hour and your hand was starting to cramp

Damn all the people who think Sirius Black was a badboy. Who would believe that the great Sirius Black with the face carved by the gods who wears leather jacket and rings is a cuddly puppy who needs attention 24/7.

You sighed and said, "Sirius Now get up my hand is cramped ." You complained whilst attempting to remove him off your hand .

Sirius just whined "Sirius get up !!"

"Noooo" he mumbled on your shoulder.

"What would make you get up " you whined out .

"Cookies!!" He said pouting his gorgeous lips like a child .

" Sirius I don't have any cookies. "

" Then we should go bake some, please ? " he said giving you puppy dog eyes .

You finally gave in "fine " you huffed .

"What kind of cookies do you want sugar or chocolate chips ? " you asked Sirius whilst searching for a jumper.

"Chocolate chips!!" Sirius screamed like a kid and hugged you from behind . You smiled at his behavior

"What are you searching for? " He asked.

"A jumper I can't find one ."

"Here take this. " he took out one from his closet and gave it to you it was lime green in colour and very soft "Thanks" you gave him a peck on the lips, Sirius' cheeks turned light shade of pink .

You both went to the kitchens And were greeted by Missy one of the house elf

"Mr Black and Ms Y/L/N what can Missy get you." Missy greeted.

"Hello Missy can i get some butter , flour ,sugar and some chocolate chips ?" .

" Yes anything for Mr Black and Ms Y/L/N ". Missy said and went away to get the ingredients.

Missy got the ingredients and you started making the dough while Sirius was just playing with the bowl and spoon .

You ignored him and started mixing everything after you were done with the dough you started putting the cookie dough on the baking tray but you were missing something parchment paper.

You saw the paper on top of the shelves , you stood on your tip toes to reach it but darn your height.

"Sirius !! Help me !!" You threw some remaining flour at his face to get his attention .

" Y/N !! You ruined my gorgeous hair !! "

you scoffed "whatever." Trying to hold back a smile.

" This declares war !" Sirius grabbed a fistful of flour and threw at you. You threw the remaining flour from the bowl right at his face .

Sirius then tackled you down and started to tickle your sides

"Sirius ! Stop stop right now !!" You said through giggles .

" Now why should I huh? " Sirius said not stopping a bit.

"Sirius please , I am sorry ." You said through breathes.

Sirius stopped and stood up dusting off the flour from his hair

" Asshole " you muttered under your breath.

"Said something love " he said while bringing his hands up and imitating a ticking motion.

"nothing!! I said nothing!!" You said putting your hands up to surrender .

" Sirius hand me the parchment paper " you said and he handed you the paper.

After you were done with everything you sat down on the chair and let out a sigh.

Sirius left out a soft chuckle and said "Well we should start baking the cookies ."

" yeah, now Sirius put this to bake you can atleast do that right ? " You said pushing the tray in his hands.

"Geez love can't you be a little more gentle ?"

"No I can't because my boyfriend is a 3 year old kid " you said annoyed by his behavior .

"I am not a 3 year old kid I am very experienced for a 3 year old " He said while wiggling his eyebrows something he does everytime when he makes a dirty joke

"Sirius Black!! " you screamed throwing a spoon at him but damn his Quidditch reflexes he dodged it aimlessly.

Sirius had put the cookies to bake and you sat down on one of the chairs looking at the elves already preparing for the dinner.

Sirius came and saw your tired expression and asked "What's wrong love ? "

"Just tired that's all " you said

His face softened and he went to you and started massaging your shoulders " feels good love ? "

"Yes thanks I needed it " you gave him a kiss on his nose.

He smiled " Well I think the cookies are ready I should go check them "

You were confused it was hardly 5 minutes what was Sirius doing but you decided to leave it and closed your eyes wishing to get few minutes of sleep.

"Hey love wake up" Sirius said shaking your shoulders lightly .

" did u slept?  I had went out for 5 minutes , guess you are really tired " He said sitting down.

" yeah , I slept , it felt as if I'd slept for hours . I am very tired . " you said rubbing your eyes with your hands.

"Here, I made some hot chocolate " Sirius handed you the cup and some cookies.

"Aww thanks love " you took the mug and gave Sirius a kiss

" Eh It's nothing " he said shaking his hands but you swear you saw the pink tint on his cheeks and nose

"Sirius are you blushing ? " you teased him

" What !! No Why would I be blushing ? " he rambled denying your words while covering his face with his beautiful godly locks.

"Sirius stop lying just admit that you are blushing " you teased him.

Sirius just glared at you and you let out a chuckle . " Sirius you are such a baby " you ruffled his hair like a dog well... he is a dog.

" Y/N !! Don't ruin my hair!! " Sirius said removing your hand combing his hair with his fingers.

" wow this cookie is so fucking good " you moaned out. Enjoying the taste of the heavenly cookie and the warm hot coco.

" I know right? Like it's so damn tasty . " Sirius said licking the remaining chocolate from his lips.

You drank the remaining of the hot chocolate and packed few cookies for Remus as it was his time of the month.

"Sirius ,  I am tired give me a piggy back ride  " you pouted out your lips.

" Okay love , get on  ------  it's weird that you were just screaming at me minutes ago and now you are acting cute and cuddly   " he chuckled as he walked out of the kitchens.

"I was tired back then love " you mumbled into his shoulder.

"You really should stop over-working yourself love I know it's important to study as we have OWL's this year but just loosen up a bit. I guarantee that you would do good babe, but your mental health is more important and I don't want you to get stress love . " he scolded you in a caring way.

"I know Siri I would not over load myself with work, I promise . " you said mumbling in his neck. You both entered his shared dorm and he laid you carefully on the bed. Sirius threw the bag of cookies at Remus .

"Hey!! " Remus said picking up the bag . " sorry " Sirius said sheepishly.

Sirius laid down next to you and hugged you peppering you with kisses and pecks . " Don't over work yourself okay love ? You need to focus on your mental health" . "Yeah I will " you said kissing him .

#sirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #the marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #marauders era #sirius x you

[thegreatestofheck]

Promises, Promises ✾ JJ Maybank ✾

request:  Hi! Can I request where John B has a younger sister who is extremely close to JJ but there is kind of a unspoken rule between the three of them: you can look, flirt all you want but no touching or crossing that line. Well they deeply care for each other more than John B knows. Well on the day Luke picks him up from jail in that scene before getting in the car he sees her, just staring at him because she knows what will happen if he gets in. The rest is up to you!

word count - 3.8k  warnings - mentions of abuse, uncomfy interactions with Luke Maybank,  synopsis - You and JJ have an unspoken thing, passed only through stolen glances and half serious flirting. But the day after he takes the fall for Pope, you find yourself standing at a crossroads; do you step in to protect him from his dad, or do you stay out of it? a/n - thank you so much for this request anon!! I wish I could have gotten to it sooner, but I’m so grateful that you came to me with this request, I love it!! Here I am with another Routledge!Reader fic. I will never be tired of these. Never ever. I tried really hard to be proud of this, anon, because you deserve a masterpiece, but I really struggled and I’m so sorry for that. I hope you like it all the same!

                                                               ***

You and JJ had shared many different looks in your lifetime. The kind where your eyes were squinted tight, filled with tears because you were both laughing so hard. The kind where your eyes were wide and his were stone cold because you were terrified and he was ready to raze hell to keep you safe. The kind where you’re standing on opposite ends of the room but you meet each others’ gaze and you know that the both of you wish that distance was closed. 

A thousand different looks, a thousand different moments, and thousand different silent words shared by only the flick of the eye. All of that and it seemed like it boiled down to this moment in time, this one very important look. 

You were standing across the street from where his dad’s car was parked, only a block or so away from the police station. JJ’s face was still messed up from his fight with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper at the Summer Movie Series, but his eyes were more haunted now than they ever had been before. Because he wasn’t walking alone. His dad walked alongside him; jaw tight, hands clenched, gait furious. 

And you knew. You knew what was coming to your best friend if he got into that car. He had taken the fall for Pope, found himself thousands of dollars in debt, thousands of dollars that neither him nor his dad didn’t have. 

Your had curled around the wad of cash in your pocket. After watching Shoupe drive away with JJ the day before, you had broken into your piggy bank, gathered all the tips you had ever received from the wrinkled, old, white men who hit on you at the Wreck, torn apart every piece of furniture in your house to find every last goddamn penny you owned, praying that it would be enough for bail. And if it still wasn’t, you were fully prepared to bat your pretty eyelashes and pout a little bit. 

After all, no one had ever been able to say no to y/n Routledge before. 

But now that you saw JJ walking beside Luke Maybank, you felt oddly silly in your too tight tank top and extra short shorts. All the money in your pocket suddenly lost its worth because JJ’s dad already knew. JJ was already heading straight for hell. 

You watched him for a good while before he tore his gaze from the concrete beneath his feet and looked up across the street. It took a few moments for relief at seeing you to glaze over the fear in his eyes. You barely managed a smile. 

Of all the looks you ever shared, you hated these kind the most. Where you knew that JJ was upset, terrified, on the verge of tears, but he covered it up with a smile and a dirty joke. There would be no jokes now, but there had been so many in the past. 

Like the time you and your brother were cleaning up the Chateau after a nasty storm and he came staggering onto your lawn. He was drunk off his ass, his face a terrible array of purple and red. John B didn’t see the way JJ’s eyes flit back and forth as if watching for someone. He didn’t see the way JJ stumbled to cover the limp in his step. He didn’t hear the way his voice broke as JJ drawled out a snarky remark about the weather.

But you did. You saw everything. 

Maybe it was because you spent your entire life looking. Stealing glances in the early morning when he was still asleep on the pullout. Watching how he flinched when Pope or John B raised their voice a little too loud with an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. Seeing the way he buried himself in weed and alcohol and girls just to take his mind off of the overbearing fear of not being good enough. 

You saw it all because he was, after all, just a mirror of yourself. 

And you wanted him more than anything. You wanted to know how his calloused hands felt against your always cold skin. You wanted to be surrounded by his scent, the smell of cigarettes and cheap beer and sea salt chocolates. You spent hours awake every night, knowing that he was just a few feet away from your room, wondering if he was in as much agony as you were. 

It wasn’t like you were afraid to tell him how you felt or anything. He knew exactly how badly you wanted to take the pain straight from his heart and put it into yours, how badly you wished to be the thing he craved, how badly you needed to have him around all the time. 

He knew it all because you were, after all, just a mirror of himself. 

The years of pining and flirting and joking and pretending that there wasn’t a barrier between the two of you placed there by your very own brother meant that, at the very moment when JJ needed you the most, you could tell instantly. 

It all took a second. An entire conversation in just the blink of an eye. He knew why you were standing there across the street in your too tight tank top and your too short shorts. He could see the outline of the coins and the cash in your pocket. And he knew that even though you couldn’t save him from spending the night in a jail cell, you would be damned before you left without trying to save him from his dad. 

“No,” his eyes told you as soon as the elation in his face faded. “You’ll get hurt.” 

“If I don’t, so will you.” 

It didn’t matter that an entire road separated the two of you. You’d spent years communicating through a brick wall built by your own two hands. You could still read him perfectly. 

But now wasn’t the time for reading. Road be damned, brick wall be damned. 

You pulled your hand out from your pocket and forced a wide grin on your face. JJ scowled at the sudden change in your demeanor. 

“JJ! Mr. Maybank!” You called and stepped into the street. The old man turned to look at you with the deepest scowl you had ever seen in your life. Just before your mother abandoned you and John B, she had told you that the only thing scowling achieved was wrinkles. Looking at Luke Maybank’s face now, you knew that she was right. 

“What?” He snapped as you stepped back onto the sidewalk. 

“My dickhead brother was supposed to come pick me up but he’s off with some chick,” you lied smoothly, your smile never once faltering. Luke grunted and took a step to push past you and continue walking. As you stepped in front of him again, you sent one quick look to JJ to affirm that you were doing just fine. 

“I was wondering if you could maybe give me a ride?” You asked as sweetly as you could. 

“Look, y/n,” Luke grumbled. “I’ve got shit to deal with right now.” 

At the word ‘shit’, Luke sent a sharp glare over to JJ, who tried not to flinch. Your eyebrows pinched together. You dropped your smile into a small pout and heaved out a heavy sigh. You knew exactly what you were doing, but you tried to ignore Luke’s eyes on you all the same. Just thinking about it sent shivers down your spine. 

“That’s okay,” you said, looking up with a pouty sweet smile. “I’ll just walk.” 

You gave JJ a small wave of your fingers, but you had no intention of leaving. Because only seconds later did Luke Maybank let out a sigh equal to that of your own. 

“Get in the car, y/n. A girl like you walking across the island is bound to get unwanted attention.” 

The smile that grew on your face was equal parts to cover up the fear that his words struck into your heart and elation that your plan had actually worked. You looked over at JJ again, only to see this his eyes were stormy and his jaw was clenched tight. You sent him a wink as his dad brushed past you. 

Falling into step with JJ was like breathing. With you by his side, he was less tense than before. Neither of you said anything on your way to the car, but neither of you really needed to. You hooked your pinky around his and gave a short squeeze before letting your hand fall back to your side. 

There was half a race to the passenger door, but, like always, you won. You sent him your best attempt at a playful smile as you pulled the door open, forcing him to slide into the back seat, disgruntled. In your mind, the harder it was for Luke to reach JJ, the happier you would be, even if it meant sitting next to the one person you hated most on the planet. 

In an attempt to keep your nonchalant air about you, you propped your feet up on the dashboard, leaning back and draping your arm out the window. JJ jammed his knee into the back of your seat, giving you an angry glare, which you dismissed and ignored.

“Feet off the dash, sweetheart.” Luke’s voice was tight even as he tapped his hand once against your shin. You tried to laugh it off as you pulled your feet back but you suddenly realized what exactly you had gotten yourself into. 

“Sorry, Mr. Maybank,” you said as you cast your eyes back to JJ, who was smoldering silently in the backseat. 

“It’s Luke, please,” the older man said, pulling out of the parking spot. You swallowed a lump in your throat and gave a quiet laugh. 

Eight years you had known this man and never once had he let you call him Luke. A pit formed in your stomach. 

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, y’n,” he said. He didn’t turn his head but you can see his eyes shift toward you. 

“Oh, you know. With my dad missing, I’ve been taking care of John B a lot,” you said, waving your hand through the air like it was nothing. “Leaves very little time for a social call.” 

“You’ve grown a lot.” 

How in the hell were you supposed to respond to that? Normal people shouldn’t say shit like that to a teenage girl. You didn’t even have to look at JJ to know that he was absolutely fuming. All you could do was let out a stiff laugh. 

“Where do you need to go?” Luke asked. You cringed to yourself. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead. Improvising was more JJ’s area of expertise, but you’d picked up on a thing or two over the years. You hoped it would be enough to keep you out of deep shit with Luke. 

“JB and I have been working on this bike back at the house and I came out here to buy a part from some guy online. Turned out to be a scam,” you said with a sigh, playing with the broken rubber on the door. 

“This boy back here hasn’t been helping you out?” Luke asked, jamming a thumb in the direction of JJ. You noted how he refused to say his name. 

“Uh, it’s kinda a brother/sister project.” You glanced back at JJ again. He rolled his eyes, smelling your bullshit from a mile away. You weren’t really the tinkering type. 

“I see. What’s the part you need?” 

You almost panicked, your eyes going wide. You knew jackshit about what different parts of a motorcycle were called. JJ had tried to teach you once a few months ago before John B had so rudely interrupted. Giving yourself a few seconds to rack your brain for the name of even a single mechanical part. 

“It’s the uh, I can’t really remember the name,” you chuckled, your heart starting to pound as Luke eyed you carefully. “It’s something weird. Something small and it goes in the engine? I don’t know what JB was thinking sending me.” 

“Why don’t I take you to the house and you can show me which piece you’re missing?” 

Your heart constricted even further. There was a rule you and JJ had. Well, aside from the silent rule not to ever act on their feelings for the sake of John B. This rule had nothing to do with your brother. Never, ever, ever were you supposed to go back to his house. No matter what happened, JJ had told you to stay clear of his house. 

But if you didn’t go, what would happen to him once he was alone? You almost couldn’t stomach it. Looking back at JJ, his eyes were narrowed into a warning. 

“Don’t you dare,” his eyes said. You grimaced. Could you really leave him knowing full well what was waiting for him on the other end? It didn’t feel right. It’s not like Luke would try anything with JJ there. You would be perfectly safe. Or, at least, you had managed to convince yourself you would be. 

“Um, yeah. It’d have to be quick though. Kie’s picking me up from the Chateau in in an hour.” 

It was another lie. You just hoped it would be enough to keep you out of any trouble. JJ sighed audibly and you tried to send him an apologetic look but he was too busy staring out the window. 

The trip to the Maybank abode was full of awkward small talk between you and Luke, JJ refusing to make a sound. He refused to even look at you once Luke parked the car and stepped out. You were expecting him to storm inside, but he stood there and waited for you. The look on his face told you that you had royally pissed him off and for half a moment, you felt ashamed for breaking your promise never to go to his house. 

But that shame faded into a firm resolve. You were helping him. He may be angry at you now, but he would understand later and he’d be grateful. 

You followed after Luke as he walked into the house, keeping your chin high. You were right about this. You had to be. 

“You want a beer?” Luke asked you. You could tell that he had already had a couple this morning. You wondered how many beers it would take for him to pass out. 

“Sure,” you said, tugging on frayed edges of your shorts. Luke didn’t ask JJ if he wanted one. 

“Beer’s and the parts are out in the back,” Luke told you. 

“Okay.” 

You slowed, pausing to stop next to JJ. 

“Are you okay?” You whispered to him. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to spend the night alone in a jail cell. The idea of him being there all by himself made you queasy. 

“You promised,” he whispered right back, keeping his eyes fixed on his dad, who wandered around the porch looking for something. 

“I know.” Your voice was quiet. 

“y/n!” Luke called. “C’mere!” 

JJ tore his gaze from his father to look down at you. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. 

“Don’t.” 

“He’ll think something’s up. It’s just a beer.” 

“Get out of here, y’n, I swear to God-”

“And leave you here with him?” You let your quiet voice raise ever so slightly and then glanced toward Luke to make sure he hadn’t heard. “No. I’m staying.”

“y/n.” You slid out of JJ’s grip and took a started toward the back porch. “y/n!” 

You stepped onto the porch with a smile. There was an opened beer just waiting for you to grab. You picked it up with as much of a smile as you could muster.

                                                           ***

Forty-five minutes later, you were holding a piece of metal that was supposed to do something for a made up motorcycle that you had no idea how to use and Luke was passed out on the couch. You let out a sigh and set down the empty beer bottle that you hadn’t taken a single drink of. Luke was tipsy enough before you even started talking about motorcycles that he didn’t notice you pouring your beer out over the side of the porch. 

JJ was leaning up against the wall, watching you and his dad carefully. Once you were convinced that Luke was asleep, you turned around to face your friend. 

“My room,” he said, pushing off the wall and turning down the thin hallway. Your heart skipped a tiny beat. He was still upset with you. All your life, you hadn’t really been like John B or JJ. You weren’t confrontational. You liked to keep your head down, walk away without a fight. 

But this wasn’t confrontation you could avoid. You had to follow him. You had no choice, even if the idea of it made you want to vomit. 

You had never been in JJ’s room before. Of course you hadn’t. You weren’t really sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t really this. Maybe some old movie posters, some pictures of the pogues, a record player and the albums of his favorite bands. 

But his room was bare. The paint on the walls was peeling. His bed was nothing more than a mattress on the floor with a sheet and a torn comforter. There was a wooden dresser on the wall under the window, but it was chipped and one of the drawers that had been pulled out was broken. Clothes were all over the floor, but it was clear JJ hadn’t been back here in a few days. You knew exactly where he had been, of course. 

“JJ-” 

“What the hell were you thinking?” JJ’s hands were on his hips. You wrapped one hand around your wrist and twisted nervously. JJ putting his hands on his hips meant he was especially agitated and the more agitated he was, the more he was likely to yell.

“I was just trying to keep you safe,” you said, voice quiet. 

“I don’t need you to protect me!” 

You clenched your teeth together as tight as you could. You wished you could properly articulate your side of things without your voice shaking or tears gathering in your eyes, but the sad truth of it was that yelling always made you cry. And you hated it.

“What was I supposed to do? Let you get your ass beat?” 

“Yes!” You flinched at the tone in his voice. “What’s the point of trying to keep me safe if you’re the one who gets hurt?”

“I didn’t get hurt,” you reminded him gently. “I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, well, you might not have been.” There was a look in his eye that you recognized, but you had seen it only a few times before. Fear, true fear. He had gotten good at covering it up over the years, but there was no shroud over the fear in his eyes now. It was a level of vulnerable that was so rare to see on JJ. 

“I understand that,” you said. “And I’m sorry if I freaked you out, but I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.” 

“Why not?” 

“Why not?” The tiniest shred of courage found its way into your heart and your own voice started to rise. “You know damn well why not! What kind of friend would I be if I just let you get into that car alone?” 

“You promised me you would never get in between me and my dad again. You made that promise to me and you just broke it.” 

You tried not to scowl. 

“First of all, I didn’t technically break any promises. I didn’t get in between you and your dad this time. I stopped it from happening in the first place. Second, the promise was never valid because I had my fingers crossed.” It was childish, sure. But you were a child so you had a habit of acting like one from time to time, especially when you got nervous. 

“Dammit, y/n! Can’t you see I’m just trying to keep you safe?” 

“Yeah and I’m trying to keep you safe.”

JJ huffed out a sigh and turned his back on you, which sent a spike of pain through your heart. 

“You should go,” he said. 

“JJ-”

“I’m not kidding. Get out of here before my dad wakes up.” 

You let out a short breath through your nose and clasped your hands together in front of you. You couldn’t help the agitation that burned in your chest. 

“Whatever makes you happy, J.” 

“Fuck you, y/n. You know this doesn’t make me happy,” he turned back around slowly to face you once again and you pursed your lips. 

“Don’t stay here,” you told him, going back to your quiet words and almost shy demeanor. “Come back with me to the Chateau. We can figure everything out.” 

“How?” He asked with an aggressive shrug. “How in the hell are we going to figure anything out?” 

You paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say. You had one shot to get this right, to say the one thing that would get JJ to leave this place with you. 

“Like we always do,” you said after a few moments. “Together.” 

You extended out your hand to him, silently begging for him to bridge the gap between you. He hesitated, glancing between your tear-glossed eyes and your outstretched hand. Eternity passed in those few moments before he made his decision. A bead of sweat ran down your spine. A cool breeze left a wave of goosebumps across your legs in its wake. Your eyes swam with tears but not a single one of them fell. And you waited. 

Eternity passed and JJ finally made his move. His hand was up, reaching for yours as he took a step forward. You were pulling him into your arms before his fingertips even grazed your own. He let out a single, shuddered breath like a sob of relief as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pressed a gentle kiss against the side of his head. 

“I can’t promise you that everything will work out the way we want it to,” you whispered quietly to him. He let out another shaky breath as he held tight to your hand, one arm wrapped around your waist. “But I can promise you that whatever you face, you won’t be alone.” 

“Your fingers aren’t crossed this time?” he asked in a half hearted attempt to joke, but he didn’t even attempt to crack a smile as you pulled away from him to look him in the eyes. 

“I promise,” you told him, holding your uncrossed fingers up in front of him. He nodded once, his hair shaking loose and falling in front of his eyes. “Come on, then. Let’s go home.” 

________________________________________________________________

taglist -  @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, @diverrdown, @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, 

#jj maybank #jj obx #outer banks #obx #jj imagine #outer banks imagine #routledge!reader #routledge!reader x jj #jj fluff #jj angst

[imagining-supernatural]

The MET Date

Part 20 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You and Seb have a date. Like a date-date!!

Word Count: 2,258

“I’ve lived here for over a month, you know,” you pointed out on Saturday morning.

Sean pulled to a stop at a red light and tossed you a confused look in the rear view window. “Yeah. I’ve been driving you for over a month.”

“And you’ve been living in my apartment,” Seb pointed out. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It means,” you said, “That I know New York pretty well.”

“Ah.” Sebastian settled back into the seat. “You think you know where we’re going.”

From the front seat, Sean laughed, making you glare at him. “You never pay attention to where we are. I could kidnap you and you wouldn’t know until we passed a Welcome to New Jersey sign.”

“So if you kidnap me, you’ll head towards Jersey. Seb, take notes so you can tell the police where to look if I go missing.”

“Noted. Anyway. Back to the original conversation. You think you know where we’re going?”

Sebastian turned in his seat to face you and waited for your answer with an amused look.

“We’re… well, we’re headed towards the hospital.” That much you knew. But you were sure Seb’s date idea didn’t include the building where you spent most of your time. In the last month or so, you’d only been to the hospital, the apartment, the diner, and Broadway that one time.

Of course you had no idea where you were going. But it annoyed you that you neither man would tell you where you were going.

Surprises were never high on your list of things you liked.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Seb said. “But that’s not where we’re going.”

Alright. So you’re headed to Washington Heights… What things were near the hospital that you’d seen? There was a BBQ place you’d been wanting to try. But Seb said there would be walking…

“Oh god. You’re not taking me to Planet Fitness, are you?” Laughter from both men filled the car and you got defensive. “What? You’ve threatened to make me go to a gym someday.”

“Yeah, once you’ve recovered from a successful surgery. Babe, you can barely walk up two flights of stairs.”

You were not about to tell him that you were winded after two flights of stairs before you found out you had cancer. “Okay, so if the walking we’re doing today isn’t at a gym, where is it? Central Park? If this is your way of telling me I’m a shut-in who needs Vitamin-D, I can talk to Dr. Chowdhury and have him suggest a multi-vitamin or something. I mean, I definitely wanna see Central Park, but it’s huge. Like, if you have a plan to, like, have one of those bike carriages or something for us, I can see that. But—”

“Hey, hey, hey. You’re blabbing like you were doing when we woke up in Vegas.”

“Blabbing? Excuse me, Mr. Stan. I am sharing my opinion.”

“Well, Mrs. Stan, you sure are doing it in a blabbing way.”

“I—” am being way too defensive. Sebastian didn’t know about everything in your past. He didn’t know why you hated surprises. He was doing something nice for you and it was time you started getting past your hangups. “Sorry. Yeah. I am. I just don’t like surprises. I like to know things, you know?”

“So you know how to protect them. I know, Y/N.” Sebastian took your hand and gave you a soft smile that damn near sent you into cardiac arrest. “Why don’t you just trust that I know enough and can protect you today? You’ve leaned on me for dealing with the press. Lean on me for today, okay?”

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax. “If we’re doing enough walking today, I don’t think I’ll have much of a choice but to lean on you. You might even have to carry me.”

“I give a hell of a piggy back ride.”

This time it was your laughter filling the car. “I’m definitely going to have to take you up on that.”

The car pulled to a stop and you jerked out of the tunnel-vision conversation you’d been having with Seb to look out the window.

“This is the Met,” you stated, trying to think of how Sebastian would know that this was your number one place you wanted to visit. “The Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

“Yeah,” Seb had that stupidly soft smile on his face as he took in your reaction.

“I… Wait. I told you the first day we were here I-I-I wanted to come. Like, in passing. How the hell did you remember?”

Rather than answer your question, he asked one of his own. “Think you can handle walking here?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

He grinned and squeezed your hand once before letting go. “I know you’re all independent and shit, but you’re going to sit in this car and wait for me to come around and open your door, okay?”

“Oh wait,” you pretended to be shocked. “Is this, like, a date-date?”

“Oh, shut up.” He playfully shoved your shoulder before getting out of the car. Before shutting his door, he leaned down. “You stay put.”

He waited until you held your hands up to prove you weren’t going to move before shutting the door and heading around the car.

Sean slung his arm over the back of his seat and looked at you with a smirk. “Wasn’t it just last week you were trying to convince me that Sebastian wasn’t really your man? Huh, Mrs. Stan?”

“You,” you said bluntly, “Shut your damn mouth.”

He chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m, just saying… babe.”

“I don’t pay you for this abuse.”

“Your man is the one who pays me.”

Your door opened and you shot Sean one last warning look before taking Seb’s hand and climbing out of the car.

“Have fun you crazy kids!” Sean yelled just before Sebastian closed the door.

As Sean pulled away from the curb, Sebastian gripped your hand tight in his and started walking towards the impressive building.

For the first time since you woke up next to Seb back in Nevada, you weren’t worried about being out in public with him. For the first time, you were looking forward to spending a day out of the apartment with him.

“You know, I saw that interview you did,” you said hours later as you wandered the Arts of Africa, Oceania, and the Americas exhibit. “The one where you’d told your mom that you were in Black Panther, but she left before the end credits scene where you actually were.”

“Yeah?”

“I like that story. These masks just reminded me of the scene where Killmonger steals the African mask. Also, I’m blaming you that I can’t think of a Marvel movie without thinking of some sort of connection to you. Even the movies you technically weren’t in.”

His arm tightened around your waist and he kissed your head. “Risks of being married to me.”

“It’s a pretty good risk if you ask me.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “And the perks are pretty good too. I mean, I’m standing in the Met. Something I’ve always wanted to do. Because of you.”

His lips pressed to your forehead. Against your skin, he murmured, “My pleasure. Now let’s go find somewhere to sit down for a bit.”

“Please.” You hated to admit it, but you were almost ready to pack it up and head back home. You hadn’t even seen a quarter of the museum yet.

You decided to lunch at the café in the European Sculpture section, which gave you enough energy to tackle the Modern and Contemporary Art corner.

Half an hour later, you came out of your ‘Sebastian Bubble’ enough to notice some girls whispering a few exhibits away. They kept glancing your way. In such a good mood, you elbowed Seb and nodded towards them. “Looks like some of your fans are here.”

“They’ve been following us for the last ten minutes. Are you just noticing them now?”

“Hey. I’m focused on the art. One-track mind. You know me. Anyway, they probably want a picture with you or something.”

He nodded, considering. “You cool with that? I mean, today’s supposed to be you and me.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I’ll take the picture. You know those girls will be kicking themselves for weeks if they pass up this chance to meet you. I was once a young teenage girl in love with the Jonas Brothers.”

“Jonas Brothers?” Sebastian gripped his hand over his heart dramatically, groaning. “Geez, woman, you keep saying things that make me feel so old.”

“C’mon, Old Man. Let’s go make those girls’ day.”

As soon as the girls realized you were walking their way, they started tittering excitedly. Their excitement turned to apologies for interrupting your day, but you quickly brushed aside their concerns.

“Hey, don’t apologize. Trust me, if we ran into Kelly Clarkson, it’d be Seb taking my picture with her.”

Between their excitement, random questions, and small talk, you spent a good five minutes with the girls before parting ways. Fully aware that they were still watching you as you walked away, you felt slightly self-conscious when Sebastian pulled you into his side, but you were fast to ignore that feeling. Their attention wasn’t vicious, like the press’s attention was.

“You know they’re going to post those pictures all over their Twitter accounts and stuff, right?”

With a shrug, you replied. “Yeah. But it’s fine. They just want to share. They’re not looking for a paycheck. They’re just excited. It’s different.”

“It’ll probably entice the media to start up again.”

“We’ll deal with it. Did you see how happy those girls were? I don’t see much of that in the hospital. It felt good.”

“Mmm, maybe you do need some of that Vitamin-D, you ol’ shut-in.”

It had been a long time since you’d woken up hearing Jasmin’s voice. For a moment, you just laid there, curled up with Sebastian and wondered if you were dreaming. It took you a few seconds to open your eyes, and when you did, you were even more confused.

“Why are you Skyping on my phone?”

“She’s awake!” Jasmin sang, grinning at you as you blinked, trying to wake up.

Seb pulled the phone back enough to capture both of you in the frame. “She was calling and I figured why not.”

“Mmm, I wish I could have seen your face when Seb popped up on your screen instead of me.”

He laughed. “It was pretty great.”

“Look, when I was calling to see if you knew about the tweets, I was not expecting Sebastian Fucking Stan to answer.”

“Not my middle name,” he mumbled teasingly, earning him a nudge from your leg to his.

You were feeling awake enough to finally sit up, so the two of you took a minute to re-situate and you ignored the bright look in Jasmin’s eyes. She and Sean were the worst. Sure, napping together and teasing each other like you and Seb did definitely cross the lines of just friendship, but those two were so damn into teasing you about it.

So you herded off any comments by taking charge of the conversation. “What tweets? Oh! Did those girls post something?”

“Yeah,” Seb started clicking around on your phone, but you quickly took over since he seemed intent on keeping one arm around you and he was definitely not the best at one-handed phone usage. “She texted a screenshot to you.”

“Because both of you are living in the stone age and don’t have Twitter accounts. Seriously, you guys.”

You could only see her in a corner of your phone, now that you were out of the Skype app, so you didn’t really see her reaction when you stuck your tongue out at her.

“Here we go,” you muttered under your breath, waiting for your phone to load the picture.

It finally pulled up the post. Of the few pictures you’d taken, the girl had chosen her favorite and posted it with the caption:

Met Sebastian Stan at the Met today! DREAM COME TRUE! #stillfangirling

“See?” you said to Seb, turning to him with a smile. “You made her damn day.”

He nodded toward your phone. “Look at the first picture Jaz sent.”

“Is it a post from the other girl?” you wondered aloud as you clicked back.

“No. Actually, the girls found me again while you were in the bathroom and asked if they could post this one.”

Your brow furled. Why would they have to ask permission to post a fan picture? You’d taken those pictures for them.

Then you saw it and understood.

It was a picture the same girl had posted on Instagram of you and Seb, taken from a few feet away. You were facing away from the camera, looking at an exhibit. His arm was securely around your waist with his head turned just enough to be kissing your hair. Without the caption, it could have been anyone in the picture.

11-2-2019 Sebastian Stan and Y/N Y/L/N at the Met. They are both so unbelievably nice and thoughtful. Shandra and I weren’t expecting them to come over to say hi and take pictures with us. Between Sebastian filming and Y/N’s cancer treatment, I’m sure they don’t have much time together, but she made sure we got our pictures anyway! All those articles twisting around her past to make her into some sort of monster can go screw themselves! Unless you’re Kelly Clarkson, you can leave her alone! #shesafan #saidsoherself #cancersucks #prayingforY/N

You hadn’t expected the girls to say anything about you. Beside Sebastian, you were practically invisible, which was always fine with you.

But reading those words brought a smile to your face.

All that fluff!! And an actual date!! Can things get any better than this??

CHAPTER 21: THE FOURTH CHECK-IN

#sebastianxreader #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader fluff #sebastian x reader fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 7/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Sorry in advance, but this chapter is kinda short. But we do get more conflict, more drama. 3 more chapters! Who's pumped? No one.

TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: Brief blood mentions.

2020

Remember how I said I was on a journey towards happiness? In the beautiful world of Brianna Caldwell, life said, "Nah."

The next day, it was apparent that things were only getting worse.

"Ed Sheeran is still on board," Joey stated matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms, the safety visor making a rustling sound as he did so.

He was joined by Nina, Alex, and Michael. A few of the lab team were at their desks, trying to ignore the current confrontation, including Jujubee.

She looked as if she wasn't paying attention to the ordeal, but I knew Jujubee like the back of my hand, and she was listening. I couldn't help but want her to speak up and help me out here. But she hadn't spoken to me since the day before.

"Yeah, he is." I put my hands on my hips, standing at the front of the lab, while Joey and his friends sat there and looked up at me.

"Why, though?" Joey continued to question.

"God, we already had this discussion," I spoke quietly, looking to the side for some sort of distraction.

"Yeah, but you said you'd figure something out." Nina input.

"Yeah, you did." Alex joined in. I glanced at Jujubee in the hopes she'd join the conversation. Her eyes remained on the chemical she was working with.

"Why did you choose him in the first place? Why not…" Michael paused, deciding to join the argument, "Bill Nye...or someone who actually has an interest in Space and Science."

"Yeah, for real. Like, you do realise that in years to come, when kids read about 'Neil Armstrong - the first man on the moon, they're gonna flip the page and see 'Ed Sheeran, confirmed the first man to enter another dimension.'" Alex added.

"Like, how do you even explain Ed Sheeran as a choice?" Nina held a hand out in questioning.

I finally found a crack and slipped back into the conversation, "Because your project manager is a disaster when she's drunk and makes stupid choices without even thinking."

"We know, Brie. You were drunk." Joey rolled his eyes like he was tired of hearing the same story.

"Maybe you should stop drinking." Alex squinted his eyes.

"Yeah, we don't wanna go there, but maybe this is a problem," Michael added to the point.

My eyes were becoming wider with every word they were saying. This was absolutely ridiculous. Again, I was hoping Jujubee would argue back, but she remained silent.

Nina, however, was the one to interject, "Jesus, guys. You're taking it a bit too far." She stood up and gathered her lab coat, "Look, we all do dumb shit when we're drunk. She's not a mess, OK?"

Joey laughed. I held back from calling him out for the time that I caught him hiding in the closet playing Candy Crush for an hour.

"Well, even so, she should take this into consideration," Alex suggested.

"And do what?" I unfolded my arms and held them out by my side, "call him and say 'JK, Ed. It was just a joke, Ed.'"

"Girl, you're the one who got us into this mess. You figure it out." Alex raised his voice. How very fair of him. I was the one who had to deal with this problem, yet they were the only ones who seemed to care.

"Mess is a bit of a harsh term." Nina pointed out.

"Exactly, there is no mess here. Juju and I have already figured this out," my gaze shifted towards her again, hoping the mention of her name would cause a reaction. Nothing, "So I'd appreciate it if I could stop getting all this flack. I don't need flack from you," I pointed at Joey, "I don't need flack from you," next, at Alex, "or you," then Michael, and I moved my finger in Nina's direction, "or...Jesus Christ, you're having a nose bleed."

Nina's hand flew straight up to her nose, pulling away and examining the red liquid. "Oh, my Lord!"

She tried wiping it. But more blood poured out like a faucet that had been slowly turned on.

"Can you just...get out of here and get that cleaned up?" It sounded bitchy. But I was panicking. I never did well with blood. Therefore I looked away and hid my face.

"Thanks for helping, boss." Joey practically snarled, handing Nina a bunch of tissues. Like hungry wolves following the scent of the blood, the 3 men followed her out of the room, Joey still scorning at me as he left.

It was just me and the other scientists left in the room.

I turned and moved to one of the counters, picking up screws and bolts as if I was actually interested in them. But I couldn't ignore the presence of my best friend.

Hearing shuffling, I turned. She was standing up and gathering her things.

"Juju." I approached her.

She only quickened the packing up process.

Reaching her bench, she was already turned in the direction of the door, "Juju, are you just gonna ignore me all day?"

Finally, she looked at me, adjusting her bag strap, "There's nothing to say."

"Oh really? Well, you can decide to drop me as a friend, but you're still working for me, so we need to communicate."

"OK," Jujubee shrugged, "Well, what do you need to discuss with me that's work-related?"

She got me there. Licking my lips, I breathed out with a quick sigh. "OK, look, last night, we didn't end on a good note. I'm not saying I was wrong, and neither were you. Can you just please set that aside and talk to me?"

She squinted her eyes. "So, I'm supposed to just let the problem keep building?"

"Juju!" I briefly raised my voice, a few of the other scientists glanced in our direction. Jujubee looked uneasy now. So I lowered my tone again. "OK. I'm just gonna say it. I fucked up. I fucking...wrote her a creepy message, and I don't know what to do, and I have no one to talk to about it."

She let out a sarcastic laugh, "You're still looking to use me as your therapist. You learned nothing from what I said, Brianna."

I was silent, incapable of speaking anything else.

She looked away to the ground, "This is taking up my lunchtime."

And with that, she moved to the door, the sound of her heels like a clock ticking down.

"Juju, what can I do?" I held my hands out by my sides. "How am I going to make you satisfied?"

With a hand opening the door, she was frozen for a moment. I thought she would have walked on and ignored me. But she looked over her shoulder and said, "When you realise she's not the one who cares about you."

She left the room, pulling the door closed. The noise caused me to flinch.

I turned around her words in my head.

Two of the scientists were whispering, one glancing at me. I felt my chest become tight. "Hey. This isn't a social gathering. Get back to work."

Despite their astonishment, they moved away from each other anyway.

I instantly felt like a bitch. Technically yeah, it was my job to keep everyone working. But I rarely raised my voice.

I left the room, seeking peace and quiet.

Sitting in my chair, I held my hands in my head, staring at the redwood desk. Moments like these should have felt like a luxury, just sitting there, relaxing. But my mind was racing with too many thoughts.

I had no idea what I could do to make amends with Jujubee. But I could try and sort this Ed Sheeran problem.

Loading up my emails, I opened the thread with Ed Sheeran (which was actually only 3 messages and most likely with his manager).

I hit reply and started typing.

'Listen, Ed. There's been an issue…'

No.

'Dear Mr Ed Sheeran, we regret to inform you…'

'Hello, Ed. It's Brianna from…'

'Ed, big fan of the work, but…'

I squeezed my eyes shut, already feeling exhausted, like each press of the backspace button represented a loss of a brain cell.

For all the achievements I had earned throughout the years, for all the accomplishments, why the fuck was this so damn hard?

The telephone rang, causing me to jolt. A sigh left my lips as I tried to breathe. Pressing the speaker, I said, "Jackie, what's up?"

Jackie, my receptionist, spoke, "Hey, honey. Your Mom's on line 2."

My hand clenched around my pen, already feeling that familiar sense of dread.

"OK, thank you," I spoke quieter.

I hesitated for a moment before finally clicking line 2.

"Hi, Mom," I uttered.

"Hi, baby." She said quietly. "How are you?"

"Fine." I lied. "Nothing really new here. How about you?"

"All good…" she sighed, then paused briefly, "Actually no. Things aren't good. I...lost my job. The usual, they found someone better. And I've been trying so hard to find a job."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, and on top of that," she sighs again, "Brie, honey, there is no easy way to say this; Piggie's sick."

My breath caught in my throat, but I tried to remain calm. "What's wrong with him?"

"They said it's Lyme disease, Brianna. I...I don't know what's going to happen." Her voice cracked.

"Look, don't worry. I'm gonna send you money right now. It should cover the bills. He'll be - -"

"No, I didn't call you to ask for money." She said quickly, "I was just wondering...I know you're busy and everything…"

Fuck. My eyes squeezed together, hand tightening around the phone.

"But...I would love to see you. It's been nearly a year now." Her tone softened.

And immediately, I wanted to say no. Considering the circumstances, a visit would fuck with my head. Seeing Piggie, my emotional support through teenagehood would crush me.

"You there, baby?" She asked.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"I just...I don't want to be alone. What if the medical treatment fails? I'm gonna have no one, Brianna. I don't want that." She pauses again, and my chest tightens, tears filling my eyes. "Brie, baby, please come."

I can hear the pain in her voice. But I can't help but feel that sense of fear, the anxiety.

"Don't leave me alone to deal with this, please. I'm at my lowest. And I don't know if I could do it all by - -"

I hit 'end call'.

I put the phone back and rested my head in my hands.

I knew this was my fault - our strained relationship. I could only see that now, how emotionally unstable I was. That sounds like a joke, right? I just didn't expect it to be this bad.

Nothing was getting better.

-_-_-_-_-_-

2004

I threw my bag in the back seat before climbing in the front. My hair was soaked from the rain. I literally just ran from the school to Mom's car, not even outside for that long, yet so much rain.

I said nothing, only rubbed my hands together to keep warm.

"So, the schools flooded?" Mom asked.

"Yeah."

"The whole school?" She looked past me and to the building, an eyebrow raised. "It doesn't look that bad."

"It's just the shop classes and cafeteria, to be honest." I put my hands between my thighs to make the warming up process happen quicker.

"That's a bit unnecessary to send you all home."

"Yeah, well, I'm not complaining."

Mom fired up the engine, and we were set for home. There was a moment of silence that fell among us. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But when she turned the radio down, I knew we were in for a discussion.

"That's not the only thing the school called me about today." She started.

"Oh?" I looked out the window. I don't know why but I assumed they had finally exposed me for smoking around the back of the building. But it was doubtful as I had stopped during the Summer.

"They're concerned about you, Brie." And so was she, now that I could hear it in her tone. "Your grades have only gotten better the slightest amount."

"Well, I can't just go from a C to an A in a matter of days." I still looked out the window. "And besides, I'm staying behind every other day for extra studying."

"Are you sure you're not just flaking and hanging out with Jujubee instead?" There it was, the accusatory tone.

I looked at her now. "No? And if it makes you feel better, you can call her Mom and ask. How's that sound?" I scoffed, "God, I don't need this. Not like I'm dealing with enough at school anyway."

"Well," she was silent for a moment as if daring herself to speak again, "Not that I'd know, I mean, you don't really open up to me about school."

"Yeah, because there's nothing you can do about it." Was I wrong? What could she do? Barge into the school with a gramophone and yell, 'Stop picking on my daughter!'

"About what?"

I rolled my eyes, "Doesn't matter. I don't wanna talk about it."

I could practically feel the way she held back from rolling her eyes.

"Well, the only other thing I can think of is that you're too focused on all this space stuff." She sounded more irked now. "You need to focus on your future, not all this make-believe crazy conspiracy theory shit."

"Oh, that crazy conspiracy theory shit that my Grandpa enjoyed?" My tone was slowly raising.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying your Grandpa didn't make a living sitting around and fantasising about all of this stuff. He knew the difference between having a career and having a dream."

"Well, God, not like my interest hasn't got a thing to do with my future prospects, Mom. No. Who would have thought." The sarcasm was thick in my voice.

"Whatever it is you're striving towards, it sounds more like a dream to me. You need a more stable plan." Mom flicked the indicator quite aggressively.

"Oh my God," I laughed, "That's hilarious. You have no idea what I'm striving towards. You can't even tell me what it is."

"Does it matter??"

"Just shows how much you give a shit about me, right, Mom?"

We pulled up to a red light to Mom's delight because she pulled the handbrake.

"How dare you." She seethed, "How dare you speak to me like that. I have done nothing but give a shit about you all these years. I have been there for you, every nervous breakdown, every time you wanted to cry but wouldn't, every time you needed your Mother the most. I was the best Mother I could be because I know that deep down you were hurting." Her voice cracks. "I know that you struggled for so long, what with your parents and all, but I've done all I can to give you what they couldn't. I held you. I loved you. But now, what I'm getting back is this...attitude. All I did, Brie, was express my concern, and you immediately went on the defence." She paused again before lowering her tone, "And I know you want to hold on to this space stuff, so you don't lose someone else. And I know you're in pain. But is this actually what Grandpa would have wanted??"

We held each other's gaze for another moment before the light finally turned red. She started driving again.

But I wasn't done. "Really? All of that and for what, Mom? God, you have no idea what Grandpa wanted for me. If only you knew what he asked of me when he was lying in his deathbed."

"And what was that?" She raised a brow.

"It doesn't matter." I crossed my arms and was back to looking out the window.

"Of course." She stated.

"Just...stop, please. My grades will be better. Now, we're done having this conversation."

I could feel her seething, the heat of her anger radiating through the cramped vehicle. But she said no more.

Not even for the rest of the night.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw blood mention

[eirabach]

Just Like Heaven [The Glow Rewrite] 1/8

Well, here it is kids. Kindly betaed by the beautiful @katie-dub. All remaining errors are absolutely 1000% my fault, and any and all incoherence remains despite her best efforts to kick sense into me. All the love in the world to the CaptainSwanRewriteathon team who helped me get this thing finished, even if I dropped out at the very very last second. I love you all. Very dearly.

Emma Swan always gets her man, why would she let a little thing like death get in the way?

A Captain Swan ‘Just Like Heaven’ Movie AU that takes the AU part and eats it for breakfast. Now with weekly updates! Godspeed, dear reader. Godspeed.

Rated M. Ao3. 2500 / 22000. 

She dreams of the ocean.

The skies are bright blue, and cartoon-fluffy clouds scud overhead as the ship skips over the waves with her at the bow. The wind catches at her hair and she laughs - a wild, bell-like sound she barely recognises - and spreads her arms wide.

Somewhere behind her, someone is calling her name.

Emma!

Emma?

“Emma? Emma!”

She sits bolt upright, the cheap plastic chair creaking alarmingly beneath her weight as she sways backwards. Her half eaten breakfast doughnut rolls sadly across the table and drops to the floor, and she scrubs at the smear of cinnamon frosting it’s left on her cheek.

“Sorry, what,” she mumbles, blinking grit from her eyes. “I was just - ”

“Snoring,” says her boss, lips twitching into a sneer. “So glad you could rejoin us.”

“Sorry,” Emma mutters again, “it won’t - it won’t happen again.”

Zelena lifts one perfectly manicured eyebrow over the file she’s holding out, Emma cringing inwardly as she realises that every person around the rickety old boardroom table is watching her with expressions that range from amused, to pitying, to - in Jefferson’s case - alarmingly hungry.

“Rough night?” he asks, with a lecherous sort of grin. “We could make it… rougher, if you like?”

Emma squeezes her hands into fists and forces her expression into a tight smile.

“Not in any way you’d enjoy, Jefferson. I might, though.”

Ruby scoffs into her hand, covering it up with a cough, and the two of them exchange a swift look. Ruby’s still in last night’s make-up too, but hers is still practically pristine, her lips still devil red as she quirks them briefly at Emma.

Emma’s carefully applied mascara, on the other hand, is smeared under her eyes and down her cheeks from hours spent waiting in the rain, her lipstick long since bled away.

It really had been a rough night.

Her mark had been a particularly nasty piece of work, skipping bail and leaving not only one well-meaning and heavily pregnant girlfriend to foot the bill, but two, and Emma had been warned in advance that he had form for getting nasty when things weren’t going his way.

He also, it seemed, had form for standing up dates. In the rain.

And possibly Varsity Level Track and Field skills.

She could imagine better starts to the day than dealing with Zelena and Jefferson after six hours of extensive wet-weather cross-country running and twenty minutes sleep. She squirms in her seat, her shoulder aching still from where he’d attempted to wrench it from its socket before she’d finally managed to get the drop on him, and meets Zelena’s gaze with a glare of her own.

“I got the mark,didn’t I?” she says. “I just didn’t get much sleep.”

“I hope you enjoyed your little cat nap, then,” says Zelena, sliding the file over to Emma. “Because here’s the next one.”

Emma’s brow furrows as she looks at the golden embossed motif on the front of the file, the heavy cardstock, the six figure reward for bringing this guy in.

Somebody must have been a really, really naughty boy.

“The cops increased their budget lately?”

“Not for the police,” Zelena says smugly, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. “This is on behalf of a private client.”

“Hey.” Emma drops the file on the table and shakes her head sharply. “We do bailsbonds, not PI work.”

Zelena hums, her eyes going wide. “Is that what it says on my door? Well I never.”

“You don’t have a door,” Emma mutters, but Zelena is leaning over the table now, her eyes sharp, and Emma is forcibly reminded that although she’s good at her job - great, even - Zelena is still very much the boss.

“And you don’t have a choice,” she hisses. “Unless you think I should give the mark to someone else?”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees both Ruby and Jefferson sit up a little straighter, and her eyes drift back down to the file.

She doesn’t know who Mr Gold is, and she has no idea what he wants with the dark-haired man in the grainy CCTV photo - this Killian Jones - but she knows how much money is left for the month. She knows Henry went to school this morning in jeans a half inch too short.

And it’s six figures. Six.

“No,” she says, closing the file and resting her hands on top of it. “I’ve got this.”

--

The office - such as it is - isn’t the sort of place Emma likes to spend much of her time, even at the best of times which, frankly, this sort of isn’t. Ruby’s nice, outgoing enough to spring the honey traps Emma wouldn’t dare and a personable sort of person to have around if you didn’t mind the constant sound of gum smacking, but even she isn’t a generous enough soul to congratulate Emma on being handed a case that might make her rich. And Jefferson had looked ready to murder her before she’d slipped past the splintered remains of what had once been Zelena’s door and settled herself into the only comfy chair in the place - an elderly padded desk chair reserved for clients that always smells faintly of despair.

Zelena could afford to replace it, of course. Emma thinks she just rather likes the scent.

“All right,” she says, crossing her legs and trying not to wince as her knees protest. “Spill.”

Zelena taps her nails on her desk and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“Afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she says with suspiciously wide eyes. “Is there a problem?”

“You tell me,” Emma snaps back, the file tight in her fingers. “Since when do we take on private clients - since when do private clients want to hire us?” She gestures to the door, it’s smashed glass panel and missing edges a testament to the sort of review Oz Bail Bonds has received in the past. “Something’s up.”

For a moment Zelena’s sneer drops, her fingers still, the confidence she wears like her knock-off suit flickering briefly out of existence.

“That’s none of your business,” she says, eyes narrowing. “Just do your job, Swan.”

“I will,” Emma snaps, “but not if - I have Henry to worry about you know.”

Zelena rolls her eyes in the particularly dismissive manner she reserves for those rare occasions her staff dare to remind her that they have lives outside of the office walls.

“Best make sure you don’t fail, then.” She gestures to the door, her contribution clearly finished. “Although,” she says, “since you’re here…” She reaches into her desk drawer and removes one of the thin, buff coloured files preferred by Portland PD. Clipped to the front is a picture of a red-faced, piggy-eyed man, with slicked back black hair and a smile even a mother would cringe at. “Jefferson didn’t quite bring home the bacon on this one, so to speak. Would you mind?”

Zelena smiles her reptilian smile and Emma thinks of her bed, the three day old take out festering in the fridge. She thinks of Henry’s face as he waits for her to collect him from school only to see Mary Margaret turn up again.

“Would it matter if I did?”

Zelena’s smile almost reaches her eyes.

“Not in the least.”

—

If you were to ask Killian Jones where he’d gone wrong in his life he’d struggle to put his finger on any one event. Too many coincidences. Too little respect for authority. Too much death. Too little faith. Not enough rum.

Well, maybe not that last one, though it is what brings him out tonight.

He stumbles through the night, his collar drawn up against the cold and his hat pulled low against prying eyes. The streets are unfamiliar still, the accents around him notably unlike his own, and it’s a stupid idea, this. Foolish. Idiotic. Risky. Irresponsible. All the things that he’d been, before. All the things that he’d sworn to leave behind, after.

(It seems he’s yet to make a vow he can’t break.)

He’s too sober to be this maudlin. Too sober by far.

Luckily, that’s one of the few things he can do anything about.  

His legal team know nothing of the little dockside hole in the wall joint he’s taken to frequenting when they clock off for the night. He’s spent weeks under their watchful gaze, sitting sweet between the four magnolia walls of the safehouse, and maybe they’re as bored as he is or maybe they secretly agree that he deserves what’s coming to him, but gradually they’ve given him a few tiny tastes of freedom. The disposition is pending, after all. His evidence presented in black and white. So perhaps it doesn’t matter that they’ve left a newspaper here. An open bathroom window there.

And he might be nothing else, but he’s resourceful.

He’s resourceful, and soon, he plans to be drunk.

Liam hated him being drunk.

He hated the dive bars he’d frequent, the women he’d bring home, the friends he’d spend his nights with.

Sometimes - most of the time - he wonders if Liam had just hated him.

He’d have been well within his rights.

He’d been left with a feckless little sod of a younger brother to care for when his career was barely beginning, all those early paychecks dropped on a boy who barely understood the sacrifice and wouldn’t have appreciated it if he had. God only knows, even now, how he’d managed to convince his superiors to allow his delinquent younger brother access to the shipyards.

It’s why he sticks to the docks. The scent of brine and engine oil takes him back to those hazy distant days when Liam had tried to save him from himself, and the ships that almost had.

But then, Liam was gone. And along with him any hope for Killian Jones in the world at large.

The Underworld had taken him, and he’d let it.

The black market, after all, did have better rum.

Better than this place certainly, but he drinks the proffered dross anyway. Needs must. And besides, it stops burning after the fourth shot.

Perhaps if he’d stopped there he’d have stood a chance of noticing the man in the corner of the bar. Most unfortunates who patronise a place like this tend to keep their heads down and their drinks coming, but this one - this one has his eye on Killian.

And he’s been cradling the same pint for an hour.

Killian doesn’t notice him, or the anxious way he shifts his weight. He doesn’t notice the glint of silver in his pocket, nor the sweat that blooms across his brow. He would have, once. Would have cared, once. But now all he cares about are the dribbles of rum that slip down shaking fingers and the goddamn waste of it all.

So he doesn’t notice. Doesn’t care. Not until he’s eight shots deep and the world is spinning, stinking of garbage and vomit, footsteps behind him and it’s too damn late to run.

Too damn late by far.

---

It hadn’t always been like this of course.

It’s sort of surreal this half-life of hers, lived in the shadows of other people’s mistakes. She works mainly when the streets are dark and empty, sleeping the daylight away as best she can in an old recliner swiped from a skip, her son’s third-hand xbox blaring brightly away just beyond the edge of her consciousness. She’s tired, always, and never quite as well off as she ought to be for the hours she puts in - the stain of Zelena’s fingerprints over every pay cheque - but on balance, it’s alright.

It used to be far, far worse.

At least she was sleeping in her car voluntarily nowadays. Not like those early days before, cold and desperate, she’d thrown herself on the mercy of the only friend she could remember having, her worst best mistake wailing in her arms and her prison issue clothes hanging off too thin shoulders.

And Mary Margaret had let her in.

And let her in. And let her in.

Until their brief High School friendship had developed into something almost like family, almost just right.

She’s getting morbid, it’s getting late. The two things might be connected.

It’s been a depressingly long time since she’d backed the bug into the alleyway outside of the mark’s preferred drinking den, and she’d done nothing ever since but squint into the dark - nothing except fire off a quick text to Mary Margaret begging off school pick up and hoping she’d take mercy.

Again.

It’s a theme, of sorts.

(And if she hadn’t answered Mary Margaret’s follow up call, well. She can’t afford to get distracted on a job.

She can’t afford for Mary Margaret to finally say no.)

From somewhere under the pile of cheeseburger wrappers in her passenger footwell she hears the buzz of her phone and winces.

She sort of should have, maybe, called Mary Margaret back.

No time for that now though. At the end of the alleyway she sees the shadow of a man leaving the bar, the tell-tale lurching gait of the heavy drinker giving her time to slip out of the bug, gun in hand, before he’s able to disappear into the shadows.

This is always the riskiest part - the choice. Does she shout, ensuring the guy currently emptying his guts against a dumpster is the one she’s after but possibly setting herself up for another late night cross country session? Or does she lurk in the dark like some sort of comic book vigilante, creeping along with her back to the damp alleyway walls and hope that she’s able to get the drop on him?

(Her knees hurt. Decision made.)

She inches towards the dark figure, wrinkling her nose up as he retches into the gutter, the street lights casting a yellow halo around his unruly hair. He’s mumbling to himself as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, some sort of half conversation with the demons in his own head, and Emma slides her gun back into her belt. She’s not going to need it.

Somehow, she gets the impression that if she breathes too hard at this one he’ll drop like a leaf.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping into the glow of the light, her hands open at her sides. “I think you ought to come with me”

He pauses his mumbling, his shoulders heaving slightly from the effort of being sick, and she sees the way his right hand tightens on the edge of the dumpster.

There’s a crack - thunder that isn’t  - a sharp, wet, blooming pain in her stomach. Screeching rubber and her own pulse harsh in her ears as she stumbles forward, grabbing for the edge of the drunk’s jacket as she falls.

She gasps. Henry’s name garbled in blood. Her phone’s in her car. She needs to tell this guy… he needs to tell Henry… she needs…

Help.

He turns, a flash of blue against white, and everything goes dark.

#captain swan #cs fic #cs crew #cs mafia #clare vs writers block #jesus ive forgotten what to tag its been so long

[theodorecanaryhood]

Family business

Small series hope y'all like

Tom Holland x twin sister reader / Mob!Tom /Mob!Dad!Tom

You and Tom are twins, born 2 minutes apart...Tom being older. Tom's little boy Theo, aged 3, was in your care 50% of the time of Tom being out 'working'.

Rufus Del Monte owned a debt of 50k to the Holland Gang, however Tom was busy elsewhere and didn't have time to collect the debt himself.

You left Theo in Harrison's care, as Tom's first in line, Harrison was the only member outside of the Holland family that could be trusted.

You went to Rufus' place to collect the debt but you were caught off guard, being knocked down and tied up.

'Why are you here?' Was all you were asked, 3 men who were built like a brick shit house stood over you. You weren't very intimidated though.

'Here to collect a debt from your boss' you replied, that was when the man in front of you, the biggest man, hit you across the face.

'Why are you collecting? You have no business' he said again. You chuckled as the men looked at you.

'Tough guy hitting a woman, is that all you've got?' As the biggest man stepped towards you again you kicked him twice. First time in the knee and second in the groin. The second guy you hit with the chair you were tied to as you jumped to your feet and swung to the side, knocking him over and he hit his head. The third guy you slammed the chair leg down on his foot and head butted him.

As the biggest man came toward you again, you leant back on the chair and put him in a headlock with your legs.

'Don't even think about it. Untie me' you said in a low voice, intimidating.

'Fuck you' he said in response

'Did I fucking stutter? Untie me' you said angry, the man took out a pocket knife and cut the ropes.

'Appreciate that' you said as you knocked him out with a punch. Standing up, you walked over to the man behind you, who was laying on the ground holding his nose.

'You bitch, you broke my nose'

'Really? What a shame' you said as you walked over to him and pressed the heel of your stiletto into his shoulder.

'Where's your Boss, Rufus?' You asked, the man didn't answer so you dug the heel in a bit making him groan in pain. 'Just so you know, I have no problem with torture, so where, is he?'

' ...' the man mumbled, you leant down a bit,

'Sorry, I didn't quite catch that' you said sarcastically,

'Fuck you' the man on the floor said, you stood straight with your hands on your hips,

'Is there an echo? Why do people keep saying that? Guess I'm doing something wrong' you lifted your leg up from the mans shoulder and hovered over his left eye, 'maybe I should take an eye instead, or both. Maybe some teeth'

'Please' he whimpered, you laughed,

'Where is your boss?' You asked again calmly, the man pointed to a back room,

'There, he's in there' you smiled at the man as he answered. Kneeling next to him and offering a knockout blow to him.

...

Rufus Del Monte was not one to fight with the Holland's, he would rather run a mile. Or in his current case, try and climb out of an 8 story window...which won't open.

You burst through the door and stand in the middle of his brown and cream coloured office, looking at him with dark eyes.

'Going somewhere?' You ask mockingly, Rufus just looks at you shocked as he takes in your form. A woman, y/h/c, y/e/c, a tight outfit (dress or pantsuit...your choice).

'You're not....you're erm....not' Rufus stumbles his words as he turns to completely face you.

'Not what?' You answer confused, Rufus just keeps staring at you,

'Tom, you're not him'

'I'm y/n Holland, Tom's my twin brother' you reveal as you walk around to Rufus' side of the desk, 'you owe us something'.

Rufus looks relieved as you won't hurt him like Tom would. And will do if he finds him.

'Here' Rufus says as he puts an envelope of money on the table, 'that's it, all of it. 3k'.

'All of it?' You ask, you look at the envelope then back at Rufus, 'it's short by 47, 50k is what you owe, not 3' you say calmly as Rufus begins to shit himself on the spot.

'Ok, ok. Tell Tom, Mr Holland I will have his money soon. I just need time' Rufus says,

'You've already had 3 weeks mate. How much more time do you need?' You ask serious, Rufus looks at you and you can see he's panicking.

'Fine, I'll make you a deal' you begin, '12 hours, you will give Tom the rest of his money in 12 hours or' you grab Rufus' right hand and hold it on the table, you then pull out a knife and sever Rufus' pinky, 'this little piggy won't be coming home' you say humorous as you wrap the finger in a hanky.

'My finger, oh my God' Rufus screams in pain and shock,

'Put pressure on it at the knuckle, wrap it tightly in cloth or material. In 12 hours this finger can still be attached, unless you bleed out first' you say, Rufus looks at you, regretting not jumping out the bloody window.

'I...' Rufus stumbled again,

'Give us the money and it'll be fine. But believe me when I say this Mr Del Monte, if you don't give Tom the rest of the money, you'll wish you did bleed to death' you say as you walk out the door with the envelope of money.

...

Tom had a shit day and was exhausted from interrogating lowlife shitheads, who thought the mob owed them something.

Tom was sitting in his office going through some files when 3 year old Theo came running through the door, smiling happily.

'Daddy' Theo cheered running into Tom's arms, Tom smiled back and picked up his little boy, kissing him on the head,

'How's my little man?' Tom asked, Theo began to talk on and tell Tom about his day with Uncle Harrison, Tom noticed Y/n wasn't in the conversation and wondered where you were. That was when you walked in the office.

'Auntie y/n' Theo cheered and ran to you, you smiled and picked Theo up,

'Hey little prince' you said as you covered Theo in kisses. Tom just looked at you suspiciously as you handed Theo to Harrison,

'Would you mind giving Theo a story before I start dinner Oz?' You asked, you always called Harrison Oz as a play on to his last name, Harrison just nodded and took Theo out the room as you shut the office door. Now was just you and Tom in the room, you looked at him.

'Ok, I know what you're gonna say, but Theo was with Harrison and I was collecting a debt on your behalf' you said as Tom raised an eyebrow at you,

'Collecting a debt? From who?' Tom asked you, you put the envelope of money on the desk,

'Rufus Del Monte, he's only paid up 3k, but he is giving us the other 47k within the next 12 hours' you reveal,

'How would you know?' Tom asked you confused,

'Cause if he doesn't he won't be getting a certain pinky finger back' you say, Tom looks at you shocked,

'You cut off his finger?' Tom asks you, you just nod.

'Yeah, also threatened that you would do worse' you winked at your brother, 'dinner time' you went to the door,

'Y/n, you are a savage' Tom said to you, you just turned your head slightly and smiled at him.

Part 2 coming soon

#tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland #mobster #gangster #london #x reader #siblings