#i know i can just crow like. normally like with my voice like peter pan it's real and there and free i know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

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🔥Hot Seat🔥

4.6k, T, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm (ao3)

Spiderman likes Johnny. Like likes him. And he thought Johnny felt the same. He wasn't wrong, but Johnny like liked someone else, too. Someone he actually wanted to pursue, over Spiderman.

Unfortunately that someone is Peter Parker.

However, after a terrible misunderstanding, Johny isn't too keen on seeing either Peter or Spiderman; the longer this confusion left unresolved, the more Johnny's hurt would fester. Can Peter find a way to make Johnny listen?

Peter stares at his phone, hoping that Johnny will reply to one of the many, many messages he sent over the past few days before Peter continues with his latest and most idiotic plan. Seeing the most recent one – Torch, please, the cold shoulder is ridiculous – still left on read, no sign of typing dots appearing, Peter forfeits any intervention from the other man. Squaring his shoulders, Peter drops from the building’s ledge.

Thwack!

He swings, climbing higher and higher, towards the most intimidating and heavily fortified building on 42nd street.

The Baxter Building never felt less welcoming. And Peter could blame Johnny, but deep down he knew whose fault it was. Who could have prevented such a Galactus-level misunderstanding. Could have deterred this crisis if he were braver.

Like any normal night, Peter traipsed through the air space above horrendous New York City traffic. The lights blurring underfoot with each completed arc. Peter journeyed uptown, nearing Central Park. And as he decided between left and right, a fiery bullet sped past and swept the board for a third answer. Peter followed Johnny’s trail, crawling up the brickwork of a nearby building that overlooks the park.

“Torch!” he crowed, watching as his friend touched onto the roof. Flames extinguished like a rolling wave, from the tips of his toes until sparks flew off his bleached curls. Brown eyes, warm like hot cocoa, lit up at hearing his nickname; a wide grin cracked his face like an egg. The yolk pouring out and sizzling on Peter’s frying pan heart. Each added beat like an extra click on a stove, turning up the heat.

“Spidey,” Johnny said, gripping his hand for a quick shake, then dragging him into a one-armed hug, “Just the bug I’m lookin’ for.”

“Not a bug…” he mumbled, too aware of how in such a loose hold their chests were flushed together. He broke the embrace, sidestepping the other hero. Giving Johnny a wide berth for Peter’s sanity. “So… what do you need? Interdimensional incident? Rescue mission? …Prank?”

Johnny, in a rare show, adopted a more bashful pose. His smile shrunk to half its size, teeth hiding as his lips fell over them like a curtain. Head bowed, he focused on the embers dancing out of his fingertips. A nervous habit Ben mentioned in passing once that Peter never saw until then. “Well… it’s nothing that serious,” he started, not looking at him anymore. “But it’s still important and I’d – excuse me,” he cleared his throat, voice scratchy suddenly, “I’d appreciate if you and I could… talk?”

At least three different quips flit through his mind. He swallowed them all. Peter didn’t need a Spider-Sense to know that his ribbing wouldn’t be appreciated. Instead, he reached forward. Clapped Johnny on the shoulder, startling him so brown eyes looked into white lenses. He mirrored Johnny’s expression, even if it was pointless. “You know I’m always here for you Johnny,” he said, “whatever it is…” Then, since he couldn’t help himself. “Even if you decided to give up superheroing for a quiet, boring life on a farm far away from your favorite webslinger… I’m sure I’d understand. Somewhat.”

Snickering, Johnny whacked his hand off. “I can’t believe you…”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Peter huffed, “I’d probably make sure you weren’t a Skrull first.” Mood lightened, Peter plopped onto a nearby air vent. “So? Spill it hot stuff!”

Johnny stiffened at the nickname, a sign Peter should have taken for what it was. Like deer fleeing the woods, the smell of smoke not reaching your nose yet. Or being on a boat, sky clear and blue, although there’s a charge in the air. Disaster was at hand.

“What?”

“Spidey…” He turned, facing the park. His shoulders drooped with a deep breath, tension leaking out as he looked off into the distance. “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“Johnny,” Peter stood, “What’s –“

“You can’t call me hot stuff, and you… you can’t flirt with me. Not anymore.” Heavy ultimatums that hurt worse than a lashing from Doc Oc or ten-thousand volts from Electro. “I just… I can’t take it.”

Peter stumbled, at a loss for words. In time, he strung together a few. “I… I’m sorry,” he said, shame coiling tight and cold in his stomach. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable… if I overstepped boundaries or – or read things wrong –“

“No, that’s just it,” Johnny said, finally facing him again. Laughing, bittersweet and beautiful. Church bells during a funeral. “It’s not because I’m uncomfortable… far from it, actually.”

“Then…” Peter’s tongue felt useless, hanging on by a thread. “Then… why?”

“I want something more,” he confessed, “More than… than what this is. This – this confusing partnership-slash-friendship-slash… whatever.” Johnny dragged a hand across his face, steam twisting around his fingers. “Fuck, I want a relationship. And I think I found someone who can give that to me?”

“Really,” Peter asked, defiant. Banging his fists on the subway car as it lingered in the station. “Johnny if you want that… all you had to do was say so! What could they give you that I can’t?”

“A name, for starters.”

Peter visibly flinched, fight crumbling into sand.

“A face,” he continued, “friends I can meet… family he can introduce me to. Co-workers who, when I show up and surprise him for lunch, can go ‘is that Johnny Storm, the Human Torch’ he can say ‘no that’s Johnny Storm, my boyfriend’.” Johnny’s knees shook, but he remained standing. “We’ve known each other for years, and you still haven’t shown me your face. Don’t you… don’t you trust me? How can you like me, but not trust me?”

There’s no answer he can give that would make Johnny happy. Peter crashed into the air vent, mindful of the newly formed dent. Glad for the mask in such a moment. Johnny can’t see his face. He can’t see his pain. But he can definitely hear it. “Well… good for you, I guess,” he sniffed, leaning on his knees, “this lucky guy gave you a name? What is it?”

Johnny, softening into another timid display, shifted on his feet. “You actually know him,” he said. Bouncing, like he would rather fly off than tell Peter who he lost to. Who Spiderman lost to. “I… I don’t want to make it awkward.”

“It won’t be awkward.” A rushed promise he cannot necessarily keep. Pettiness flowed through his body like blood, and if given a name Peter will devote time on his already busy schedule to messing with whoever cut in on the funny little dance between him and Johnny. “I swear,” he lied.

Johnny arched a doubtful brow. “Okay,” he relented, sighing, “it’s… you know that guy?”

“I know tons of guys.”

“No, this one – he works for the Bugle,” Johnny lifted his hands, holding onto air in front of his face. He closed one eye, and a finger twitched. He imitated a click and shutter with his lips, capturing Peter’s utter disbelief in a fake photograph. “The one who gets all your good sides, who made that book about you? Peter Parker?”

“Oh,” he said, “…him?”

Of course.

Peter quietly traipses the Baxter Building, sticking within the shadows. Reflecting on the sheer coincidence and misfortune that Peter wound up on opposite ends of a love triangle. Johnny Storm dead smack in the center of a one-sided tug-of-war.

He should have noticed, though. How Johnny warmed up to Peter recently, after they reconnected. Not necessarily running in the same circles during high school – Johnny home-schooled and a celebrity, Peter barely given a second glance when out of costume – they crossed paths every now and then. On assignment for the Bugle at a swanky function or in the streets, coincidentally. Peter, by virtue of being himself, immediately irked the teenage Wicker Man. Every conversation between them, in the past, filled with sniping comments and waxy fakeness.

Not like Spiderman and the Human Torch got along then, either. Hormones, insecurity, and superpowers did not mix well. Both of them caught in the resulting explosion meant awkward and difficult team-ups.

But time went on. Peter and Johnny barely saw each other, and Spiderman and the Human Torch learned how to set aside their differences. They actually became friends. Best friends. And something more he couldn’t speak aloud.

Then Johnny entered Peter’s life again. “Wow,” he muttered, gaze scrolling down his body, “you… look bigger.”

Not really. He stopped wearing baggy sweaters, bottle-coke glasses he didn’t need, and cut the mop on his head. But Johnny never saw Peter in a shirt that actually fit him.

Still, even with the chapter on puberty closed, Peter figured first impressions were made and set in stone. As himself, Johnny considered Peter a friendly but often annoying fly that buzzed around. Entertained because who would harm a fly besides a sociopath. Jokes laughed at because it was better than letting an awkward silence linger. Or passionate rants suffered through because Johnny blocked whatever Peter said, mind thinking about a million other things. When Peter slipped, flirting in a way only Spiderman did with Johnny, he figured Johnny’s response more a reflex.

It was all intentional. That never occurred to him. Stunned, Peter strategically retreated from the rooftop conversation with Johnny. Stuttering through an excuse, he tripped over the building’s ledge and nearly splat onto the sidewalk if he hadn’t shot a web at the last second. He ignored Johnny’s calls as he fled through the night.

Now Johnny ignores his calls. Peter’s. Spiderman’s. Both men having pissed off the fiery hero in a horrible, but foreseeable, misunderstanding.

“Johnny…” Peter reaches his window, peering inside, “where are you my little firefly…” Nothing moves. He tries pushing on the glass, finding it uncharacteristically locked. “Dammit…”

There’s no getting in that way.

Peter abandons Johnny’s window, hurrying. Sprinting, building speed, so when he jumps, he rolls his landing on the roof.

Johnny may have blocked his usual entrance, but Peter doubts he remembers this one. Used in the beginning, when Peter and the Fantastic Four were still strangers. If there was an emergency and Peter needed help, he would sneak in through this exhaust tunnel. Security minimal given the tight squeeze.

While a fifteen-year old Spiderman could easily slip in like Santa, with his current, adult body, Peter barely manages. Except he doesn’t exit where he usually does. While wiggling through the musty, ashen chute, Peter hears the metal creak and groan. Something pops and pings. His Spider Sense fritzes a second too late.

He drops down. Not into Reed’s lab, like he expected. The ceiling breaks, Peter landing on his stomach while a cloud of foul dust trails behind him. “Gah…” he whines, checking for any broken bones, “this totally won’t help with my apology…”

“You don’t know the half’a it, bug.”

Seizing, Peter follows the noise. He spots Ben Grimm standing in front of a door frame, nearly eclipsing it with his orange, rocky frame. Flanked by Sue and Reed, the three other members of the Fantastic Four glare at him as if he were Doctor Doom.

“Hey,” he croaks, speaking around the lump of fear lodged in his throat, “nice seeing you all… Sue, did you do something with your hair? It’s been forever since you’ve braided it.” She folds her arms over her chest, flicking the tightly woven coils over her shoulder. “Johnny told you what happened, didn’t he?”

Reed’s arm shoots forward, trapping him. Squeezes bruised ribs while dangling him over the shattered remains of a coffee table he hadn’t noticed during his fall. A pinata with three-very candy crazed children circling like sharks.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Peter curses, checking off another box on his bingo card of bad luck. One more and he’ll have five in a row.

He’d been avoiding Johnny. As Peter and Spiderman. Mainly by spending every moment of free time in costume, swinging through the streets. Never stopping for too long, only when an emergency struck. Sometimes not even then. Once, he spotted a few robbers pounding pavement by Hudson Yards. He swung in with a kick, knocking a bad guy into the water; flicked his wrist two more times and stuck the accomplices to nearby posting. Peter carried on with his patrol.

All that time as Spiderman meant a few things. He barely slept, staying at his apartment for a few short hours since Johnny knew where he lived. The costume became a second-skin, too. Lines became blurred, and there were moments where Peter thought he wore his mask when he wasn’t. Making faces that were visible and embarrassing. Miming, lifting imaginary fabric before he ate. Almost firing a web off without changing.

But when he wore the costume, he forgot it was even there.

Like the miserable morning Johnny caught him.

Peter woke up in bed, cold. The blanket fell off him in the night, and his tattered suit lain over his desk chair. Damaged after a fight with the Vulture. Overwhelmed by the criminal because his thoughts were elsewhere, taking damage normally avoided. Battle longer than he expected, Peter slumped into his apartment late at night. Stripping with the little energy he had left and collapsing on the bed in his Spiderman boxer-briefs.

And his mask.

Yawning, Peter shuffled out of his bedroom and into his kitchen. He checked his phone, delighted at the rare peacefulness that came from his schedule being clear. With only an appointment late in the afternoon, Peter decided he should treat himself with a nice breakfast. A big breakfast.

Or eggs, as they were the only items in his fridge not expired.

Peter grabbed a pan and started cooking.

Although it took seconds for his mind to wander, Peter still a little sleepy. Turning the burner on low, he groped behind for his phone again. Peter opened his Spotify app and hit shuffle, smiling when the first song came on. “The classics…” he sighed, hips shaking with the beat. Wyclef John started his intro, Peter mouthing along. Never missing a single lyric. Body awkwardly following behind, embarrassingly so. An insult to Shakira.

He shuffled through a few more songs while in his kitchen, enjoying himself. Forgetting about his past worries. Nothing mattered except his breakfast, the music, and him.

While the eggs cooled on a plate, Peter freed himself from the stove and began dancing around the apartment. Hopping, throwing his arms up, and singing wildly off-key as Patrick Stump transitioned into the ending for ‘What a Catch, Donnie’.

As all the layered vocals crescendo, Peter sensed movement out the corner of his eye. He looked, and immediately tensed.

Johnny, de-flamed and holding a bouquet of Amaryllis, gaped through the open window by his fire escape. They stared for an obscene amount of time, enough for Peter to realize he was practically naked save for his underwear and mask.

His mask.

“Johnny,” Peter started, wincing as his phone continued playing. Britney’s voice echoing in the apartment. “I can explain…”

The trance broke. Johnny screwed his mouth shut in an ugly frown, eyes blazing. Skin smoking. The flowers he carried were immolated in his grasp. Peter mournfully watched ashen petals fall; they were his favorites.

“I… I can’t believe you, Spidey.” Johnny stormed into the apartment, blonde afro enflamed. “You… you fucking asshole.”

“What?”

“You fucking prick!” He shoved Peter, tipping him over and onto the couch. Floating above, Peter could only stare as the other hero spiraled in front of him. “You are the worst fucking friend – you… you… you couldn’t let me have this? Not if it wasn’t you? You promised.” His voice cracked, the shards stabbing Peter’s heart. Tears boiled, droplets becoming steam on his cheeks. “But you fucked me over you selfish asshole.”

“What?” Peter asked, gasping for breath. His chest was too tight, no air getting in. Squashed under a heavy boot of regret, watching Johnny breakdown because of him. “I… whatever you’re thinking, it’s –“

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” he growled, fists flaming. “You can’t spin yourself out of this web, not after catching you here. Catching you post-fuck with Peter. Making him breakfast while he… while he what? Sleeps? Because you’re an awesome lay?” Johnny glared at the closed bedroom door, yelling. “Fuck you Peter Parker!” Then, at Spiderman. “And fuck you, too. Friendship over.”

He flew, Peter numbly calling after him. Stopping at the window’s edge, fear keeping him from thwapping out. Chasing Johnny so he can explain. Johnny’s exit must have drawn someone’s eye. If they saw Peter leaving in his Spiderman costume, the puzzle would complete itself.

Which is why he’s here. Hoping he could trap Johnny in the Baxter Building, surprise him with an explanation. Of how Peter, being Spiderman’s friend, let him crash in his apartment while he visited his aunt. Besides the truth, it’s the best excuse he can create.

And he can’t say the truth, obviously.

“Listen,” Peter struggles in Reed’s grasp, “I’m here in good faith.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that…” Ben says, grinding his fist in an open palm. The sound grates on Peter’s nerves.

“No, really,” he says, “I – I came to apologize to Johnny. Explain what he saw –“

“He saw enough,” Sue says, stepping forward. Like her brother, a fire burned in her eyes. Except without the actual pyrotechnics, her quiet anger scared Peter more. “You should leave, Spiderman. Only contact us if there’s an emergency – even then… we better be the last heroes you try.” She sighs, pinching her brow. Like he gave Sue a migraine by existing. “Y’know, Johnny really liked Peter.”

“I know, I know –“

“And yet you still went behind his back?” Ben scoffed, “What a friendly neighborhood spider…”

Peter groaned, head thrown back. “I didn’t sleep with Peter!” he shouts, swinging, “I couldn’t sleep with Peter!” Choking, he bites his lip. The latter half of his statement spoken in complete exasperation, afterthought barging in only when his teeth clacked on the ‘r’.

Three doubtful sets of eyes stare at him. “Sure,” Ben says, “You couldn’t. So… you still wanted to?”

“No!” he says, trembling, “No, I – it’s like you said, Johnny liked him. What kind of friend would I have been if I had… Peter’s not my type, anyway. Too much of a nerd and – and God, he has the worst taste in everything. Such a scaredy cat, too, never takes a risk…” Cramming more of his foot in mouth, Peter switches tactics seeing the heroes grow angrier at his self-deprecation. “Peter wasn’t even in the apartment when Johnny was there?” he tries, weakly. Unconvincingly. “He was at his aunt’s?”

“Can I hit him?” Ben asks the others, “Please? No one’ll even see the bruise!”

“No, Ben,” Reed tells him, releasing Peter. Dropping him onto the broken table pieces again. He arches a judgmental brow at Peter, “We’re better than cheap shots.”

Panic sets in. Peter rushes forward, slamming against an invisible barrier. Sue’s mouth thins as she pushes, Peter digging his heels in. “No,” he says, straining, “no I can’t leave without talking to him.”

“You have no right,” Sue says, using both hands as she fights with him. He slides backwards, losing. “He doesn’t want to see you. Not tonight, not ever again. You ruined any chance he has with Peter.”

“I’m… not…” he says, “he’s… ruining his chance –“

“Oh yeah!” Ben snickered, “And how’s that?”

“Because I’m Peter!”

Peter slams onto his face, the invisible wall disappearing. Pain barely registers over the shock at revealing his identity to the others. They all gape at Peter, feeling the same cocktail of emotions that stir inside him. “W-what,” Sue whispers, “you – you can’t…”

A thought surfaces. He could leave, and Johnny’s family could reason Peter’s response as the throes of desperation taking hold. Crazed response carrying little weight.

But this might be his only chance. Johnny would hear the others’ recount, and then nothing he'll ever say could fix their issues. Another misunderstanding tearing at frayed cord.

In the space between blinks, Peter decides one secret he spent so hard protecting was worth nothing if it meant an eternity suffering in icy solitude.

Swallowing his fear, he scrambles up. Tears off his mask in one swoop, dropping it in the wreckage. “I’m Peter Parker,” he says. Puffs his chest with false bravado, when every logical bone in his body tells him to deflate. “I’ve always been Peter Parker, from the very beginning.” Before they could respond, he shuffles close. With wide eyes, he works through his nerves and says, “Please, let me see Johnny. Let me explain to the hotheaded idiot that I’m kinda in love with.”

“…You’re only kinda in love with me?”

Johnny stands in the doorway once blocked by Ben. He’s dressed sloppily, in sweatpants and a hoodie Peter never saw before. Stained with an innumerable amount of foods Peter bets they could stock a fridge with. “Peter,” he drifts forward, “you’re… wow.” Giggling, Johnny scratches at his neck. “Only kinda in love, huh?” he repeats.

“Well,” Peter says, “I – uh… it might’ve been more. The whole way. But then you chose some other guy –“

“You were the other guy.”

“And you ran off, before I could offer you some of my eggs.” He blanches, the ruddiness on his cheeks obvious without fabric covering them. “My breakfast,” he amends, “My… yeah.” Peter fiddles his thumbs, wincing. “I’m really sorry you had to see that. And for making you think – by not telling you –“

“About your secret identity,” Johnny finishes for him. Irritation creeps onto his face, hardening the soft glow in his eyes. “You realize all this could have been avoided if you told me on that rooftop, right?”

“I am aware, yes.”

“Okay.” He frowns, hand hovering between them. Like he wants to reach out but can’t. Not yet. “You came here then, to clear this all up?” Johnny asks, “Tell me the truth?”

The lies bubble up easily. Practiced in dancing around reality, Peter can give Johnny exactly what he wants to hear. Brush this entire evening under a rug and move on.

But that’s not how they should begin this. Johnny knows his secret – should have known it much earlier than this. Brought in on Peter’s terms when the other hero wasn’t furious with him. If he chose the easy road paved with falsehoods, they won’t go far.

“No,” he confesses, studying his feet. Unworthy of Johnny’s beautiful face. “I wasn’t. I was gonna sell you on an awful lie, hoping you’d buy it, and then find you as Peter and… turn you down.” Johnny splutters from nearby, Peter continuing despite it. “Suggest you try Spiderman, because he really likes you – I really like you. And being with you as Spiderman than as… as regular ol’ Peter was… it’s all I thought I could have.”

“It didn’t have to be,” Johnny finally crosses the divide. Grabs Peter’s hand, squeezing it. His gaze trails up, finding Johnny’s warm face shining with a sunny expression. “I’d gladly have all of you… if you trust me.”

“Johnny…” Peter figures he’ll be spilling more than one secret tonight. “It was never about trust. I trust you with – well, with everything.”

“Except –“

“Except I was so scared!” he blurts out, squeezing Johnny’s hand. “I’d think about what it’d be like, letting you in on my double life. But then my brain would always focus on what could go wrong. You date me – the world will know about us. Whether it’s Peter and you or Spidey and you… What if we kiss while in costume, and someone snags a picture? People will think I’m a homewrecker and you’re a no-good cheat. Or they’d figure things out, put two and two and you and me and me together. And if that doesn’t miraculously happen… well, you know how villains love kidnapping loved ones. They could surprise me midway through a costume change and my secret’d be everywhere. I… your family can protect themselves, but mine can’t. If I didn’t have to worry about my friends, my aunt… you understand, don’t you?”

Johnny smiles, using their joined hands to drag Peter into a hug. Lips brush against his ear, chuckling. “Yeah… I understand. I always did speak Spider better than every other hero…” Peter nuzzles at Johnny’s neck, wondering at how fantastic it feels standing together like this. “Man,” he continues, mumbling, “can’t believe I never realized. It’s so obvious.”

“Imagine how obvious it’d be if we were on every magazine, trending on Twitter.”

“Then what does that mean for us? Are you still scared?”

Peter clears his throat. “Terrified. Of what being in a relationship with you will mean, and how things will change… but, somehow, the idea that you’d never be in my life again scares me even more. Given the options… I’d always pick you.”

Johnny collapses in his arms, Peter grateful for his super strength. “That’s a relief,” Johnny tells him, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you told me all this and still rejected me.” He stiffens, leaning out of the embrace. “I wouldn’t expose you, of course. Never. Not even if Jameson held me captive, threatening me with a bad dye job and an eternity of bad press – your secret’s safe with me, Peter.”

“With all of us,” Sue adds, reminding them of her presence. She, Reed, and Ben watched them from the sidelines. Ben hides behind his hand, shoulders trembling. “I hope you can forgive how we acted, Peter –“

“It’s all good,” he says, “you were looking out for Johnny. I get it.”

“Family looks out for each other,” Johnny says. He shifts, arm sliding as he tucks Peter into his side. “And since you’re practically family, that means we’ll keep an eye on everyone you’re worried about and make sure they stay safe, too.”

A smile forces itself onto his face, “You really mean it?”

“You trust me right?”

“Of course.”

“Then what else do you need?”

For the first time, Peter happily acts on his first instinct. His hand snakes around the hoodie’s collar, bunching it in his grip. “This.” He pulls Johnny down, slotting their mouths together.

Fire slowly burns over his skin from where they meet, Peter delighting in the burn. He sometimes wondered what it felt like using Johnny’s powers. Body tingling, lighter than air, and hotter than ever, Peter thinks this is the closest he’ll get without flying through cosmic rays.

They part, foreheads pressed. Johnny flutters his eyes open, the light shining there changing. Regarding Peter differently, combining two halves and seeing the entirety of his being. Knowing him, truly.

“Wow,” he gasps, “if that’s all you need, feel free to do that whenever.”

Peter will hold Johnny to that.

There are other things that need attending, first. Ben groans, drawing them from their little cocoon. “Great,” he says, slapping his forehead, “I thought the pining was bad, but this? We’ll never get anything done now!”

Johnny hisses, glaring past Peter at the others. “Can we get a little privacy, please?”

“We’ll get out of your hair hot shot,” Sue says, corralling Reed and Ben through a different exit. “Remember though,” she sings, “if you plan on going to your room, keep your door open!”

“Sue!”

She snuffs the fireball with a simple thought, arching a stern brow. “Try that again and I’m taking away your Spiderman privileges.”

Johnny knocks their heads together, whistling a low, sad tune. “Sue, please…” Sue leaves without any further teasing, only Johnny and Peter in the living room now.

They don’t move. Content standing, loosely embracing, in a moment Peter wishes could last forever. It won’t. Peter’s exhaustion bears down, no longer shielded from it by adrenaline. He’ll leave soon and fall asleep in an empty bed. Wake the next morning doubting if this actually happened. Only believing when Johnny texts him something stupid yet charming, stoking the fires within his heart. Keeping it lit, chasing off any shadows that might hang over their future.

Because right now, they’re Spiderman and the Human Torch. Peter Parker and Johnny Storm. Amazing and Fantastic.

And together. Finally, blessedly together.

#peter parker #spiderman #johnny storm #the human torch #spideytorch #spideytorch fanfic #black johnny storm #black sue storm #mistaken identity

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imaginethatalena · 7 years

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#3: Peter Pan x Reader

“Oh, no you don’t!” you said, grabbing a bottle of rum out of the youngest Lost Boy’s hand. “Beatty, you should know better!” You stood from where you had crouched by him and looked around. You had been visiting Tinkerbell and when the sun set you had decided to come back to camp. What you saw when you returned completely baffled you. A bonfire blazed in the center of the camp and everyone cheered as the older Lost Boys passed around bottles of an amber drink from wooden crates. You immediately guessed what it was and where they had gotten it. You approached Rufio, your good friend who also happened to be one of the boys passing out the alcohol. “Rufio, what are you thinking? The pirates will know who took their rum, and if Pan finds out you did this—” “Relax, Y/N,” Rufio said with a grin. “The pirates have more on their ship, and Pan could care less what we do.”

“Provoking the pirates is something he would care about,” you argued.

“Y/N, just shut up and have a drink,” Devin snapped at you. “It sounds like you need it.”

Your grip around the bottle tightened when he said that, and you found yourself fighting to not throw it at him. Instead you turned back to Rufio.

“Is this really the example you want to set for the younger boys?” you asked him.

“This isn’t a place where you set examples, Y/N,” Rufio said, uncorking a bottle of rum for himself. “This is a place to have fun, and we discovered a new way to do just that.”

With that he walked away with the bottle to his mouth, trying to catch up to how much his friends had already been drinking.

You sighed and looked down at your bottle. Rufio had a point. Neverland wasn’t a place where you had act like a grown up. It was a place to be irresponsible and have the time of your now eternal life.

“Why not,” you murmured, taking your first sip of the sweet alcohol. Before long you were as drunk as the rest of the boys. They had enough common sense to keep the younger boys away from the rum, but it washed away all the other cares you had in the world. You danced with them around the fire, shouted out songs to the stars, and reveled in the fact that you had all the time in the world to be this happy.

It was in the latest hours of the night, when you and the boys had lost any signs of sobriety, that Pan and Felix finally joined you.

They stood at the edge of the clearing, not quite knowing what to make of the scene. Felix looked completely confused while you caught the slightest hint of a smile on Pan’s face.

You didn’t know what came over you, but that hint of a smile was all that you needed to stand from where you had been sitting at the fire and take confident strides towards Pan.

“You look like you wanna join in,” you said, holding out your bottle to him.

Pan cocked a brow at you, surprised by your forwardness. You normally only spoke to him when he spoke to you, too terrified of him to say anything. In the beginning it was because you were intimidated by him. He was the leader of the Lost Boys and he made sure they knew it, punishing those who doubted or defied him without a second thought. That was the side of him that the boys could see, but you saw more. You knew he cared about the boys and wanted them to have a better life here, and the way he ruled the island was how he ensured that you all could have that. After awhile your fear turned to a sort of admiration that you kept to yourself, ignoring the feelings for him that grew by the day. In your drunken haze, though, you had decided that secrets were overrated.

Pan hadn’t made a move to take the bottle from you, so you drank some more. “That’s fine. More for me.”

“You look like you’ve had enough,” Pan said, looking to Felix as he finally let the smile break through.

“You can never have enough fun,” you said with a playful grin. “That’s what we’re supposed to be doing, right? Living without a care in the world for all eternity?”

“You can say that.” You got the sense that he wasn’t taking you seriously, that he was just watching a poor drunk girl make a fool of herself and enjoying every second of it.

“You know, you’re a real prick sometimes,” you said as you threw back the rest of your rum. If any other boy said that to him, Pan would have already had a punishment for them before they were finished speaking, but in this state of mind, you couldn’t care less. “You know a lot of times I wonder why I even bother with you. You took me from my home. You boss me around all the time. Sometimes you’re the only thing that gets in the way of this being the perfect place to be. Half the time I wonder if I even belong here.”

“I think it’s time you turned in for the night, Y/N,” Pan said, a warning in his voice, but you didn’t heed it. You hadn’t finished what you were trying to say.

“The night is young,” you crowed. “And we will be too for a long time, so I’m just going to get this over with.”

You dropped your empty bottle, took his face in your hands, and kissed him.

You were vaguely aware of the sudden silence in the clearing, but you didn’t care that everyone’s eyes were on you. You had been silent long enough.

You pulled away from Pan, laughing at his expression. You had stunned him into speechlessness.

“You’re a prick,” you repeated. “But I love you anyway.”

Pan smiled at me. It wasn’t one of his signature smirks or sly grins. It was a genuine smile, and it told me all I needed to know. He had been waiting for me to do that for a long time.

“You really amaze me sometimes,” he said to me. “Every day you remind me what makes our time here worth it. If we’re going to be here forever, there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

#Peter Pan imagine #once upon a time #Peter Pan x reader #robbie kay imagine #robbie kay x reader #once upon a time imagine #ouat #ouat imagine #Peter pan #robbie kay #imagines #original

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hemsworths-chris · 7 years

Text

do you wanna be a member?

JILY CHALLENGE | @howlingremus vs @queensaphrodite lonely hearts club (marina and the diamonds) + muggle librarian!au

for my amazing partner, @queensaphrodite! and for elena (@meraudurs) and nai (@hiddenpolkadots), for inspiring me to write and create (and for helping me edit this <3)

The library closes far too early, in her opinion. Sure, it closes at eight, and sure, maybe she ought to try just showing up earlier, but in her defense, it isn’t solely her fault. She only gets off work at five, and there are just so many books to read. How are three hours anywhere near enough?

She frequents the place almost every day, knows it like the back of her hand. But there’s something off about it today. Maybe it’s the fact that the historical fiction section switched places with the biography section, but that was last week.

Lily grabs her books and walks up to the counter to ask Peggy whether or not there’s a copy of Everything, Everything available and oh shit that’s what’s different.

There’s a different librarian - a bloke - at the desk, with hair too messy to be legal, glasses too outdated to be unintentionally bought, and a shirt too wrinkled to ever have come in contact with an iron. He’s the kind of fellow who’d be perfect as the main character as one of the books Lily wants to check out - maybe a Peter Pan or a Percy Jackson kind of fellow.

Lily blinks.

Well, fuck.

He looks up from fiddling with the cuffs of his button-down, meets her gaze for a moment, and cocks an eyebrow.

“You’re the first person under forty I’ve seen so far.” His voice almost seems to echo, and it’s much louder than most librarians tend to be.

Lily can’t even tell if he’s being dense or just kind of cocky, but she’ll place her bet on the latter. It’s clear as day in the way he holds himself - self-assured, unashamed, even a bit arrogant but still good-natured.

She crosses her arms. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re literally right next to the freaking children’s section.”

The bloke laughs, a sound almost out of place in this quiet library. She owes herself twenty dollars.

“Check and mate, I guess. But then again, it’s not like I can really see them.” He taps his glasses with a ridiculously long finger. “They’re getting smaller every day, I swear.”

Lily even smiles at that for a second, before stuffing it back where it came from. This arrogant, loud-mouthed (they’re in a fucking library, has he no sense of volume?), far-too-handsome idiot has no place in this library of hers.

(All the same, she wouldn’t mind reading about someone like him.)

“Yeah, sure” she says, quickly, trying to get to the point. “Listen, do you guys have another copy of Everything, Everything?”

He shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

Lily is done with this bloke. She makes her way around the desk to where he’s sitting, pushes away his chair (“Oi, what d’ya think you’re doing?” but he doesn’t sound particularly annoyed, just curious), opens up the catalog page on the monitor in front of him (the first thing she sees when she opens it up is a March Madness bracket - she now kind-of-sort-of-really wants to punch the guy), and soundlessly types in the words Everything, Everything.

No more copies available, but there’s one currently on hold. And it’s not hers. Damnit.

The guy standing behind her takes a look at her screen, and she can hear him let out a breath. “Oh, shit, that book? Isn’t that the one with like the mysterious guy and the girl who’s supposed to be sick but - “

Lily hastily shoves out her hand, as if to slap it over his rambling mouth. “No spoilers!” she all but yells. And she realizes that she’s being such a hypocrite right now, so she adds, a little bit more quietly, “Please.”

The bloke smirks, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking. “Alright, then.” He peers over at the screen once more, and Lily presses the power button. She gets up, and moves over to the side of the desk that she ought to be on.

“Well,” she says curtly, trying not to smile (for some reason) at this endearing annoying stranger. “Thanks.”

He grins at her. “Don’t mention it.”

Suddenly, something occurs to Lily. “Hold on,” she says slowly. “You’ve read this book?”

For some reason, the bloke turns red. “Er - um, no? I got it for my friend…Marlene? And like I read the summary on the back -”

Lily smirks. “Liar. You’ve totally read it.”

If possible, he turns even redder - it’s quite a funny sight. “I was bored, alright? And it was lying around - I really had bought it for Marlene - and I…may have skimmed it?”

Lily laughs and tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Why are you acting so defensive? It’s just a book, relax.”

“Well, it’s not as good as the Percy Jackson series.” Besides the point, but Lily can’t deny that it’s true.

“Fair,” she admits.

She notices a watch on his hand (it looks extraordinarily beat-up, made of old leather and a face of cracked glass), and checks the time. Crap, the library closes in a few minutes. “I really should be going,” she says, making sure she has all the books she wants before turning around.

(She’s not sure if she’s imagining it, but the librarian’s face seems to fall slightly.)

Just as Lily’s about to head back, she hears a quiet “Wait.” She turns around.

“What is it?”

“Er.” The librarian looks…pretty sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck. “What - what does it say on your shirt?”

Lily almost rolls her eyes, and she pulls back the cardigan she’s wearing.

“I left my heart in a book,” the guy reads. He looks back up at her.

“Is that, like, for a book club or something?”

Lily stares at him in confusion. “Sorry?”

“The shirt - you must’ve got it from some sort of club.”

“I…got it from Macy’s? So no, not a book club.”

He looks quizzically at her. “You know, you should probably make that shirt a book club, then.”

Lily raises an eyebrow. “For hearts in books?”

“Yeah, something like that. Like, aggressive bibliophiles or something.”

She perches herself on the desk, her legs starting to get tired of standing, and almost ends up knocking over a stapler. “Who’d join?”

“I would.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, and I’d grab some friends, too. Get some drinks, maybe some fries, and master the art of abandoning our poor, forsaken hearts in some dusty old books.”

Lily actually lets out a laugh. “I - don’t think that’s what it means.”

“But wouldn’t that be more dramatic?”

Come to think of it, it would be. Lily tries to envision it, but the only thing that really comes to mind is some sort of cult with an obsession for Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley. And they, of course, take their fries with a small cup of blood.

Anyways. She shrugs, and gets off the desk. “You do have a flair for the dramatics, then. Say, who the hell are you?”

His hands fly up to his hair - for what, to make it even messier? - and ends up almost knocking his glasses off the bridge of his nose.

“Stop giggling, bloody hell. And it’s James.”

Against her better judgement (sod it all, rational thought), she reaches over and pushes up his glasses. His hazel eyes follow her fingers, and he looks a little bit cross-eyed. It’s all a little bit sweet.

“James, is it? Well, I’m Lily, founder of the Hearts in Books Club.” The bloke - James, now - snorts at that, only causing to Lily to giggle even more.

James looks down at his watch . “I think the library closes right about now, you’d best be off.”

Lily swears under her breath, and James raises an eyebrow.

“Now, what was that?” The accent he’s putting on sounds a bit like some old-fashioned English professor, which kind of goes with the button-down, but not with the hair. “You do know you’re near the children’s section, next to so many impressionable young minds - you wouldn’t want to give them the wrong idea -”

“Oh, sod off,” she says, but not before glancing over to see if there’s anyone under the age of ten watching them. She checks to see if she still has all her books, and actually turns to leave.

“See you, Jimmy.” She smirks.

“OI, WATCH IT!”

Once she turns the corner, she can’t stop smiling. And even once she gets home and picks up her books and tries to - tries to lose her heart in them, damnit, she can’t stop thinking of James and the Hearts in Books Club and that damn hair.

Fuck, she thinks.

Lily returns to the library the next day, of course - she needs to pick up the sequel to Six of Crows, the novel she just finished.

(And she may or may not want to see if James is there.)

(He isn’t. Peggy is back, and though she loves Peggy, she’s a bit disappointed.)

(What is wrong with me, she thinks.)

After finding Crooked Kingdom, finally, she traipses over to the holds section. As far as she remembers, she doesn’t have anything on hold, but it’s always good to check.

There’s a book in her slot.

Furrowing her brows, she reaches up (and, quite embarrassingly, has to get up her tippy-toes; damn her lack of height), and grabs it. It’s hardcover, feels pretty new, and strangely enough, it doesn’t have that clear library binding around it.

The cover reads Everything, Everything. It’s the book she wanted yesterday - the one that the library shouldn’t have an available copy of. Confused, Lily opens the front cover, and the first thing she sees is a little note on a yellow Post-It, scribbled in Sharpie.

Lily,

Can this be the first book of the Hearts in Books Club?

See you Thursdays and Tuesdays.

- James.

There’s a little smiley face doodled next to her name, and Lily feels a strange, swooping feeling that she normally only feels at the end of a really good book.

And oh, fuck, she can’t stop grinning.

(But maybe, when she gets home, it’s something more than the book itself - something having to do with the note on the inside front cover - that prompts her to read it over and over again).

(Maybe. Just maybe).

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skswriting · 7 years

Text

worth the hassle

Rating: T Pairing: Park Jimin/Jeon Jungkook Words: 3801 Summary: four times jimin isn't sure neverland is what it's all cracked up to be and one time jungkook makes it all worth it AN: I wrote this in literally one sitting and I don’t know how well it flows I’m so tired someone save me from hell ao3

the mermaids.)

There are many things Jimin loves about Neverland, like how he doesn’t have a bed time or that he doesn’t have to wipe his shoes off before he comes inside because he doesn’t have to wear shoes or that he can eat whatever he wants as long as he can get it.

What Jimin does not like about Neverland, however, are the mermaids. Perhaps it’s the way they always seem to be giggling, a pleasant noise the first few times its heard, but it gets increasingly irritating the longer he’s around them. Perhaps it’s the way they can’t stop their tails from slapping the ground when they’re beached and getting some sun, a constant rhythmic thump thump thump that has Jimin flinching each time their tails make contact. Perhaps it’s the way they almost drowned him the first time he was shown Mermaid’s Lagoon.

Maybe it’s the way Jungkook always, always, always ignores him whenever they’re all together.

Jimin pouts as he swings his legs in the water, relishing in the cool feeling even though he can hear Jungkook crowing in the background and the mermaids cheering, Jungkook no doubt showing off his aerial acrobatics. Normally the mermaids don’t like Jimin touching the water, but he can get away with it when they’re so focused on Jungkook.

Jungkook was supposed to be spending time with him, not showing off for those- those meanies. Jimin immediately feels bad thinking they’re mean, because even though they had tried to drown him they had immediately made up for it by finding him shells to make a necklace that complimented his skin.

He supposes he can’t blame Jungkook for liking the attention so much, with the continuous way they’re praising him.

“Jungkookie you’re so fluid, it’s almost like your swimming!”

“You’re so cool Jungkookie!”

“Jungkookie we should go for a swim!”

Jimin stops swishing his feet, knowing if Jungkook decides to go swimming Jimin can’t go with him. He keeps his eyes downcast, wiggling his toes as an angel fish brushes his leg, waiting for Jungkook’s response.

When Jungkook’s, “Yes,” doesn’t come after a few seconds, Jimin glances up to see Jungkook watching him questioningly. Jimin immediately knows what Jungkook is asking, so he gets to his feet and kicks his legs to try and get most of the water off.

“Go ahead Jungkook,” he smiles softly and Jungkook turns to him, his tanned skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. Mermaid Lagoon is always humid and Jimin can feel his shirt sticking to his back, “I’ll just head back and see what Yugyeom and Taehyung are up to.”

He walks away before Jungkook can say anything and the mermaid’s tittle and resounding splash seem to echo and follow Jimin as he walks to Home Base.

Jimin can’t seem to understand why his heart hurts.

tiger lily.)

If Jimin can’t stand the mermaid’s fake niceness, then he honestly can’t stand Tiger Lily’s genuine kindness. It’s obvious she likes Jungkook, from the way she hangs onto him the moment they step into her camp, her face red as she lets Jungkook tuck a flower into her hair. Jimin frowns because it matches the way Jungkook tucked into his hair and he pulls it out from pettiness, immediately feels bad, and puts it back all in the span of three seconds.

“Jimin it’s so good to see you! You weren’t here for the last game of ‘capture’!” she smiles, big and wide and Jungkook glances down at her mouth before looking away.

Jimin’s heart squeezes painfully as he answer, “Ah I’m sorry. I had things to attend to at Home Base.”

By ‘things’ he means his pout fest because Jungkook hadn’t told him. Tiger Lily forgives him, of course, because she can’t hold a grudge for longer than two seconds. She’s like Tinkerbelle in that sense, except Tiger Lily just doesn’t like to be mad whereas Tinkerbelle can’t be anything but mad until she experiences some other emotion.

“Come sit next to me Jungkook! Father is getting ready to give the dinner speech and then we’re going to dance!”

She tugs on Jungkook’s arm and just when Jimin thinks Jungkook is going to leave him behind, again, Jungkook catches his wrist and pulls him along.

Tiger Lily’s tribe knows how to throw a party and the spiced berry drink has Jimin’s eyelids heavy within a few sips. Jimin’s not sure what they’re celebrating, it seems like the tribe is always celebrating something, but he doesn’t care because the other boys seem to be having so much fun that it’s infectious. Taehyung is giggling beside him, as the tribe elders dance the introductory dance before they’re allowed to dance, and Jimin turns to ask Jungkook if they’re going to dance together.

Except he catches the tail-end of Tiger Lily kissing Jungkook’s cheek, both their faces as red as the flower in Jimin’s hair. The tribe leader holds up his hands, signaling everyone can join in, and Tiger Lily immediately pulls Jungkook up and out near the fire. Jungkook doesn’t even look back at him.

Taehyung asks him where he’s going and Youngjae asks him if he’s okay.

“I think the drink just made my stomach upset, I’m going to go to bed,” Jimin whispers, trying to hold it together. He’s not sure what it is anymore.

As he walks away from the merriment, he plucks the flower from its resting place in the crook of his ear. He inspects the petals, letting his fingers glide over the velvety texture as he smiles. Jungkook had looked so bashful when he had presented it to Jimin, saying something about how the color looked nice against his hair. His touch had been so soft as he had put it in place, letting his hand brush over Jimin’s face before he had taken his hand, continuing on their adventure like nothing had happened.

Now. Now Tiger Lily has a matching one, has Jungkook’s hand in her own as they spin and twirl and laugh into the night. The flower has no meaning, not anymore. Jimin wonders if Jungkook has said the same thing to Tiger Lily.

Jimin lets the flower fall from his fingers, watching it bounce against forest floor before he steps on it. It doesn’t matter.

Tinkerbelle.)

Jimin groans as he swats at Tinkerbelle, “Go away! I’m trying to pick up and you’re not making my job any easier!”

She tinkles, her aura changing from yellow to pink and Jimin knows he’s not going to be able to get anything done with her around.

“Why don’t you go bug Jungkook?” he mutters and she shakes, her way of letting him know he’s stuck with her.

Jimin complains about Tinkerbelle all the time to Jungkook, yet Jungkook insists that Tinkerbelle stay with Jimin most days. It’s aggravating, especially when Jimin was trying to tidy up Home Base. He didn’t like a mess and the boys seemed to have trouble putting their toys away. He still had to go to the tribe and trade their raccoon skins for food so he could make dinner and-

“Tinkerbelle!” Jimin protests as she knocks down the sword rack Jimin had just fixed, “Go away!”

She tinkles and Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. He can already tell it’s going to be a long day.

Jungkook comes back to Home Base a mess and the boys complaining about the lack of food.

“Where’s Jimin?” he questions, putting his bow on the rack and setting his quiver by his chair.

Yugyeom shrugs, “I haven’t seen him all day. Taehyung and I went to play with the mermaids.”

Jungkook turns eyes to Youngjae who shakes his head, “I was staking out Captain Hook with Bambam, we haven’t seen him.”

Tinkerbelle tinkers from her flower and Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, “He’s with Tiger Lily?”

They can hear the hatch open and the subsequent sliding as Jimin slides down into the main room, arms full of baskets of food and slightly out of breath.

“Sorry, I know I’m late, I’ll start-”

“Where have you been?” Jungkook demands, putting his hands on his hips and Jimin stops in his tracks.

“What?”

“Where. Have. You. Been?” Jungkook slows down, anger seeping into his voice and Jimin’s eyes widen.

“I went to the tribe like you asked me to,” Jimin shakes the basket in his hold as proof.

“I asked you to trade for us, not to flirt with Tiger Lily,” Jungkook sneers and Jimin’s mouth drops open, “I also asked you to clean up but you didn’t do that either.”

“I wasn’t flirting with Tiger Lily! And I tried!” Jimin blurts out, obviously upset by the way he shuffles his feet and his eyes get glassy, “But Tinkerbelle wouldn’t-!”

“Tinkerbelle is little, how much trouble can she really do? If you’re not going to pull your weight around here, you can leave!”

Jimin takes a sharp breath in and Jungkook’s nose flares as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. Jimin’s eyes close for a few moments as he breathes, before he sets the basket on the ground and turns away to scramble up the stairs and out of Home Base.

“I’ve never seen mom and dad fight that bad,” Yugyeom whispers, too loudly and Jungkook turns sharp eyes towards him before he stalks to his bed, drawing the curtain back and pulling it closed so harshly that he almost rips it down.

Jimin stalks away from Home Base, unsure of where he’s going to go, but knowing that he really, really hates Tinkerbelle sometimes.

captain hook.)

The ropes are tight around Jimin’s wrists and midriff as they bind him to the mast, cloth tight around his mouth as he cries lightly, Captain Hook and his cronies laughing and waving their swords dangerously close to him.

“Peter Pan should be any moment to save his damsel in distress,” Hook laughs heartily, like he had just commented on the weather.

Jimin shakes his head, because Jungkook doesn’t even know where he is. Jungkook doesn’t want to see him, doesn’t care what happens to him, because Jimin can’t even do simple tasks. Jungkook is not coming to his rescue, because he doesn’t care about Jimin. Jimin is going to die.

Jimin can hear the faint ticking of the crocodile as it circles Hook’s ship but even that doesn’t seem to faze Hook, who is so triumphant in his capture of Jimin that he merely glances at the water and taps his hook against his sword.

Jimin waits for hours, legs growing weak as his arms go numb from their strained position. His tears have dried and his eyes have grown heavy and Hook is getting impatient.

“There’s no reason to keep him if Pan isn’t coming,” a crony says, “Baggage we don’t need. Throw him overboard!”

The rest of them echo the sentiment, swords raised high as they begin chanting and Hook is willing to go along with the show.

“Feed him to the croc shall we?! Let Pan see how it feels to lose something important to him!” Hook declares and someone cuts him loose, letting him tumble to the ship deck.

They laugh at him as they haul Jimin to his feet and all Jimin can think is, “I’m not important to Jungkook,” as they toss him onto the base of the plank.

“You can walk off with dignity boy or we can shove you, the choice is yours,” Hook tells him, keeping his sword raised.

Jimin can’t believe Hook is treating him better in his last few hours than Jungkook has and the thought has him chuckling out loud.

“Something funny, boy?” Hook demands and Jimin shakes his head as he gets to his feet, walking shakily out the plank.

The ticking is getting louder, the crocodile approaching slowly as it waits for Jimin to topple over.

“Not anymore,” Jimin tells Hook as he looks down into the murky water.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

When Jimin falls he expects time to slow down, for time to be meaningless in his last few seconds as he heads for the water. For a brief moment he’s weightless and he wonders if this is why Jungkook spends most of his time in the air, feeling the wind in his hair and the freedom to go wherever.

Time doesn’t slow down. He hurtles to the water and closes his eyes just as he spots the crocodile, mouth open slightly as it waits to devour him, the ticking getting louder as he nears the end.

Just before the crocodile lunges, he crashes into a warm, secure body and is swept away.

“Pan! Come back and fight me like a man!” Hook screams and Jimin opens his eyes to see Jungkook smiling triumphantly at him.

Jungkook takes him back to Home Base and promptly flies off again, probably to have his almost weekly fight with Hook.

Taehyung is overjoyed to see him, the worry draining from his eyes as he holds Jimin close.

“I thought you weren’t going to come back,” Taehyung mumbles into his neck and Jimin holds him tighter, “I’ve never seen you and dad fight that bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin apologizes, beckoning for Yugyeom, Youngjae, and Bambam to join in, “I’m sorry guys.”

Jungkook comes back to Jimin putting the boys to bed, a small, sad smile on his face.

“Can we talk?” Jimin says, before Jungkook has even fixed his windswept hair, “Outside?”

Jungkook nods and follows Jimin up the stairs and a few feet away from Home Base.

Jimin doesn’t know where to begin, digging at a rock with his dirty toe. Jungkook makes the decision for him.

“You should have seen how mad Hook was when I came back,” he starts, voice raising a little as he gets hyped thinking about it, “He was screaming obscenities and waving his sword around and they were firing canons at me and-”

“Did you know Hook had me?” Jimin interrupts, voice soft but the edge in it hard.

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, “Well I- yes. I mean, not at first, but when you didn’t come back I had Taehyung and Bambam go look for you.”

“You had Taehyung and Bambam come look for me,” Jimin repeats, folding in on himself slightly, “Did you come for me as soon as you found out? Or… or did you intentionally wait until I had jumped?”

“I couldn’t give Hook what he wanted,” is what Jungkook settles on after a few moments, but it answers Jimin’s question.

“Is it all just a game to you? Is it always just a game to you?” Jimin’s voice comes out in a broken whisper, lip trembling as he tries his hardest not to cry.

He glances up to see Jungkook has taken a step closer to him, hand outstretched like he wants to touch Jimin but Jimin flinches away from him.

“Do you actually even care about me, Jungkook? Or did you just bring me here because you needed a-a keeper? Someone to pick up after you and make you food and be a spectator for your antics?” Jimin can’t keep his sob at bay and he turns his head away from Jungkook, “I can’t do it anymore Jungkook.”

“Jimin what are you-”

“I want to go home.”

Jimin’s never noticed how silent the forest is at night until that very moment, where his sentence seems to echo but also hang tensely over them, the moon already pretty high in the sky.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything and so Jimin repeats himself, “I want to go home, Jungkook.”

When Jimin turns back to look at Jungkook, Jungkook is looking off into the distance, bottom lip caught in his teeth before he turns back to Jimin.

“Okay. Tomorrow. I’ll take you tomorrow.” Jungkook says simply, like it doesn’t matter to him that Jimin wants to leave.

And maybe it doesn’t. Jungkook leaves first, sliding back into Home Base, and Jimin takes a few moments to compose himself.

Home Base is quiet. The boys are all sleeping soundly and Jungkook’s curtain is drawn closed. He’s already asleep and Jimin’s heart beats dully.

He didn’t think this would hurt this bad.

fireflies.)

Jungkook is gone when Jimin wakes up and Jimin sighs. He can’t go home unless Jungkook takes him, so he tries to distract himself from the pit in his stomach by playing with the boys. They love to play hide and seek and exhaust Jimin because they never play within the boundary lines they’ve set.

It takes him all day to find three of them and knowing Taehyung, the dirtiest cheater of them all, he’s picked a particularly sneaky spot to hide. Jimin knows he’ll have to call ‘olly olly oxen free’, especially when Jungkook spots him from overhead and lands near him.

Jimin turns to Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom, “Will you tell Taehyung that he wins? That he’s the best hider of all time and I’m jealous of his skills?”

They nod excitedly and run away, screaming into the forest and disturbing the birds. Jimin watches them with a smile, heart twinging a little when he realizes he’ll never see them again.

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks cordially and Jimin nods, “Okay. Give me your hand.”

Jimin slips his hand into Jungkook’s and Jungkook’s other arm wraps around his waist before his feet are no longer touching the floor. Jimin doesn’t honestly like flying because it makes him sick; so he keeps his eyes closed as they fly. Jimin isn’t a flying expert, but when his feet touch ground after a few minutes he knows Jungkook hasn’t taken him home.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asks indignantly, pushing away from Jungkook to take in his surroundings. Jimin has never seen this small beach before, what looks to be giant willow trees guarding a path, “Where are we?”

“I wanted to show you something before you went ho- before you left,” Jungkook says, “Is that okay?”

“When have you ever asked if something was okay?” Jimin sniffles and almost feels bad about the way Jungkook’s face falls before he remembers he’s supposed to be mad. But maybe Jimin is like a fairy in the way that he can’t hold onto emotions long, or maybe he’s more like Tiger Lily, but he sighs and says, “Make it quick.”

Jungkook nods eagerly and tells Jimin to, “follow me.”

They’re silent as they walk down the path, the thick bunch of willow trees blocking out any outside sound. It’s almost eerily quiet and if Jimin wasn’t mad at him he’d probably ask Jungkook to hold his hand.

“Just a little farther,” Jungkook tells him softly and Jimin nods even though Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

What Jimin sees takes his breath away. It’s a small pond and the willows are so thick that almost no light can penetrate their foliage. But it doesn’t matter because what looks like a million fireflies flutter around lazily.

“Woah,” Jimin breathes and Jungkook turns to him, a smile on his face, “Jungkook this is-”

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” Jungkook interrupts and Jimin startles, turning to look at him, “You’re the only person I want to bring here.”

Jimin has no idea what to say and he lets Jungkook take his hand, the only time Jimin’s ever really seen Jungkook unsure.

“Can we sit down?” Jungkook asks and Jimin can only nod.

Jungkook leads him into the throng of the fireflies before they seat themselves on the sand.

“I don’t. I don’t know where to begin,” Jungkook says, “I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry for yelling at you the other day. Tink told me you were with Tiger Lily and I-I got mad.”

Jimin watches as Jungkook pushes his hair out of his eyes, obviously frustrated with himself, “And it wasn’t a game with Hook and I shouldn’t have made you wait so long, especially when you had to jump. I’m sure it was scary and I shouldn’t have made you go through that and- and I don’t know I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m just sorry Jimin, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not mad about any of that Jungkook,” Jimin says, which is sort of a lie because he is mad, but there’s more, “I’m upset that you disregard my feelings. That you say one thing when you mean another.”

Jungkook nods and it’s the most serious Jimin has ever seen Jungkook be.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jimin asks, looking down to see Jungkook still has a hold of his hand.

Jungkook takes a moment to compose himself, before he says, “This place didn’t exist until you came.”

Jimin reels back, unprepared for that answer, as Jungkook goes on, “I found it on accident and I- I couldn’t bring anyone else here. This island is yours and I should have brought you sooner but then- then you wanted to leave, to go home and this is your home Jimin. This is where you belong, not back wherever. You belong with Taehyung and Youngjae and Yugyeom and Bambam and me. Me. I don’t want you to go Jimin. I’ll do better if you stay. I’ll do better for you if you stay.”

Jimin lets the confession hang in the air between them, lets the fireflies fly in and around and between the words as Jungkook holds steadfastly onto his hand.

“Are you going to stop ignoring me when we’re around the mermaids?” Jimin asks.

“Yes,” Jungkook immediately says.

“Will you dance with me at the next tribe celebration?” Jimin asks.

“I’ll dance with you at all the tribe celebrations.”

“Will you tell Tink to cut it out every once in a while?” Jimin asks.

“I’ll send her away if you want, I’ll-” Jimin smiles and shakes his head.

“Will you keep me safe from Hook?” Jimin asks.

“I’ll keep you safe from everything,” Jungkook says in the most earnest voice Jimin has ever heard.

“Okay,” Jimin says and Jungkook blinks.

“Okay?” Jungkook echoes.

“I’ll stay,” Jimin shrugs, like it’s not a big deal even though his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

“You will?” Jungkook verifies and Jimin nods, squeezing Jungkook’s hand.

And before he knows it Jungkook is tugging on his hand and they’re tipping forward towards each other so their lips can brush softly together.

Sometimes there are a lot of things Jimin may hate about Neverland, like mermaids, and Tiger Lily’s niceness, and Tinkerbelle being a brat, and pirates. But Jungkook is worth all of it when he smiles shyly at Jimin, their fingers intertwined tightly together as he presses their lips together again a little more firmly, the fireflies dancing around them.

Sometimes, Neverland is worth the hassle.

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