#personally i welcome well tagged puppy content you should see some of the shit i draw and dont post for this fandom

[skullvins]

I mean, tag your fetish content guys come on but it's not a crime to make coroika fetish content. block and move on fellas, block and move on

#personally i welcome well tagged puppy content you should see some of the shit i draw and dont post for this fandom #coroika #illusion.txt

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

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the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

-

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

-

okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

[itsallyscorner]

Being Co-Stars with Seb (in pictures)

• This is my first time writing for Seb, so hope you guys like it! 🧡💜🖤 (yeah I know it’s only September but spooky szn y’all🎃)

✪ I feel like working with Sebastian would just be so fun. Like he’s just the biggest sweetheart!

✪ You and Sebastian met on the set of a Marvel movie, I’m gonna estimate and say during Winter Soldier!

✪ Your character was a SHIELD agent who was also one of Steve Roger’s love interests, but after Civil War Bucky’s been peaking her interest.

✪ Eventually leading up to her and Bucky ending up together because Steve decided to leave them for some old ass pussy (chill I love peggy).

✪ You and Sebastian instantly clicked, he was the new guy on set and you were the social butterfly who was willing to welcome him into the family. The rest was history.

✪ If you’re not quite the social butterfly, you guys were definitely introduced by either Robert or Chris (dorito).

✪ But anyway as soon as you guys began talking, you just got along so well with each other. You guys could be hanging out with the rest of the cast but you guys were inseparable.

✪ You guys shared the same makeup trailer and he would always see you with your iced coffee (or whatever beverage you prefer).

✪ One day you were running late and had to skip your coffee run, which left you to the self serve coffee station from craft service.

✪ No shade to craft service, their food is great, the coffee just isn’t the same as her go to.

✪ Seb noticed how much you lacked in personality without coffee (and how grumpy you got) so he asked your assistant for your usual order and picked it up during his lunch break.

✪ When he placed the coffee and muffin in front of you, your face just lit up. You were so happy that you ended up bear hugging him for a few minutes.

✪ Seb suprising you with coffee became a normal thing. He loved seeing your reaction to something so simple.

✪ Seb and your assistant only knew your coffee order :)

✪ Work wise, he is a very talented actor who is diligent and dedicated to his role. I mean come on, the fight scene between Bucky and Steve in Winter Soldier was G O L D.

✪ Since your characters had a few romantic scenes, he always made sure if you were okay with him touching you and kissing you.

✪ “Okay, so you don’t mind if I put my hand around your neck a bit, right?”

“Nonono, it’s no problem at all.”

✪ Everyone knew you two had chemistry, Mackie would sometimes always give both of you shit about how y’all should just date already and stop making puppy eyes at each other.

✪ The fans were also quick to notice it and were fond over the “friendship” you two had. You and Seb are one out of many ships in the MCU that fans absolutely support.

✪ Fans have also pointed out that Sebastian is one of the main people that you take polaroids of.

✪ Oh yeah, the whole point of this headcanon is that you have a Polaroid throughout this whole thing, totally forgot about that whoops.

✪ Sebastian adores your love for Polaroids. He thinks it’s cute seeing you run around with your Polaroid camera and taking pictures of your friends on set.

✪ While you guys were just chilling on set, you shaking out a polaroid you just took of Scarlett and Lizzie, he asked you why you always had your camera with you.

✪ “I don’t know, I guess I just like the aesthetics of it. But it feels more personal and in the moment, this isn’t something I could just simply post on Instagram. Plus it’s a physical copy, I’m not that big on pixelation.”

✪ He’s always ready to smile whenever he sees you with your camera.

✪ Moving onto ✨press tours✨

✪ Press tours with the Marvel fam was always a blast. After interviews all of you guys would end up at a restaurant or hit up a karaoke bar around the area.

✪ Since press tours were in different countries, when you guys had free time, you lot would explore the country you guys are currently in.

✪ You and Team Cap have definitely had a handful of wild nights around the world during these tours.

✪ Interviews would be fun at the beginning but as the day dragged on, the questions started to get repetitive and some interviewers weren’t as nice as others.

✪ BUT since you got placed with Mackie and Sebby, your day was filled with a shit ton of belly aching laughs.

✪ An interviewer once asked, “From what the fans have seen you guys are all very close with each other, are there any special things you guys do as a group or keep within the group?”

“We’re a very cuddly group, (y/n) gives some good ass cuddles. You could ask Seabass over ‘ere, he gets them all the time.”

✪ Mackie never missing the chance to tease you or Seb.

✪ “Well we all got some special nicknames for everyone. Sebastian calls (y/n) some Romanian nicknames that we don’t understand. Can I have a Romanian nickname?”

✪ Sebastian: “No❤️”

✪ Fans later finding out that Sebastian calls you draga or iubi because you can overhear him call you over in a video Evans posted on Twitter.

✪ The fandom absolutely going into mayhem after they find out the meaning of those words.

✪ Outside of the Marvel movies, you guys are still as close as you guys are on set.

✪ Having brunch at a local spot in some comfy clothes just content with each other’s company.

✪ Sebastian is an amazing friend and someone you could count on. He’s always down to help you with anything, whether it be moving furniture to your new house or watching your pet for you.

✪ Sebastian is just the most cutest and sweetest person, I just want one of him in my life🥺

Draga - Darling

Iubi - Baby, sweetheart, lover, darling

☞︎ Tags: @miniaturefunnytraveldonkey @wintersoldierlover

#marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fan fiction #marvel cast x reader #sebastian stan headcanons

[loveyhoneydovey]

Dating Sam and Joaquín headcanons

Note: I was trying to write headcanons and I couldn't pick which one of them I wanted to write about, so I was like "why not both?" So here's the result, it's a mess and I wrote this at 3AM, I'm so sorry 💀

All my stories are written with a bisexual reader of colour in mind, but anyone else is more than welcome to read them

Sam Wilson x Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

Warnings: slight mention of injuries, SMUT (lots of filth i'm sorry)

· listen omg, constant entertainment from all three of you, like one of you is always up to something

· ok so i think it started out with only sam and torres

· they had been dating for a while before they first met you, their new neighbour

· you know how torres was fanboying over sam?? yeah, that was nothing compared to how you felt when you first met them

· like maybe you were struggling with the boxes you were carrying during your move because they were so full

· sam and joaquín were on their way home from their morning jog when they saw you, and what kind of people would they be if they didn’t help their cute new neighbour

· when they first introduce themselves, you’re just grateful to see the people in your new building are nice. You also felt like they looked super familiar

· they could see the gears turning in your head when they’d first introduced themselves. Both theorizing about how long it would take you to realize

· and then after like 2 minutes, it hits you, and you feel so dumb

· you try to remain calm and collected since you didn’t want them to think you were crazy or feel like they couldn’t be comfortable in their own home

· they were super chill too, you noticed joaquín was the more talkative one, while sam was content with letting his boyfriend take charge of the convo

· by the end of it you ended up agreeing to hang out together, you promised them baked goods as a thank you for their help

· you’d totally stuttered a few times, and half the time you were staring at them with heart eyes (which joaquín was not used to but sam was jngercewdc have y’all not seen the way torres looks at him whenever they interact?)

· you end up forming a relationship with them, which eventually morphs into something more

· none of you had ever had more than a partner before, so you were all figuring it out together

· torres would be so chaotic. So organized on the field, yet so clumsy at home

· sam is the one that has his shit together (not always but definitely most of the time)

· and when you start dating them, they quickly realize you’re even clumsier than joaquín, and sam’s like “oh no, there’s two of them now”

· ok let’s talk about the good stuff now

· so many freaking cuddles

· post-mission cuddles are a thing in this relationship

· just the three of you laying in bed, holding each other, tracing patterns on each other’s skin, enjoying each other’s presence

· both of them LOVE having their hair played with. only difference is sam has a bit of difficulty asking for it while joaquín will put his head on your lap and put your hand on his hair

· if they come home with minor injuries, you help them clean treat their wounds. The first time this happened, you only had avengers themed band aids (which torres LOVES), so from that point on you only buy those

· on lazy days, after some lazy morning sex, all three of you like to spend the day baking new recipes and eating them in bed

· joaquín getting whip cream on the corner of his lips and on his cheek

· sam making fun of him before you tell him he also has some on his nose

· sam putting whip cream on your face when you least expect it to get revenge

· tickle fights, they used to team up against you until an elbow was once accidentally thrown and someone got a black eye

· you and joaquín love taking cute pics of sam when he’s not looking. He noticed it eventually but never said anything because he thought it was adorable

· both you and joaquín coming home with stray animals and trying to convince sam to let you keep them

· and of course he’s gonna say yes, you two had perfected your puppy eye technique

· he’s that kind of person who says no to getting a pet, then ends up spoiling it more than you and joaquín combined

· you never need a blanket when you’re around them, especially around sam because they’re always so warm

· movie night dates always ended in the three of you doing anything but watching the movie

· both of them flying you with their wings at least once

· you calling them captain and lieutenant in public to tease them

· messing with them by acting like a fan who’s never met them

· like at one point you buy a poster of each one of them and go up to them and you’re like “i’m a big fan, may I get an autograph”, which makes them roll their eyes

· dude they’re also both so playful. Always cracking jokes and even competing to see who’ll come up with the best joke

· the three of you always know you have a home with the two others, and that you can always openly talk about your problems and insecurities without fearing each other’s reactions

· I think sam is the one that has a harder time asking for help. so you and joaquín are more attentive to his body language and any other signs that might reveal that he’s feeling down

· it breaks your heart because he was always taking care of you, joaquín and everyone else, and you needed him to know he was important too

· you decide one day that the three of you should go on vacation every once in a while, because you’d all been working so hard and deserved a little peace

· (also bc shitless sam and shirtless torres)

· imagine eventually they’d give you their dog tags as a way of proposing 🥺 i’m melting

· you had a little ceremony while on a tropical vacation with your closest friends and your pets and had the time of your lives

· you knew you technically couldn’t legally get married, but that didn’t matter. You wouldn’t have it any other way

NSFW headcanons

· now let’s get into the filthy stuff

· whenever you act up, you usually do it around joaquín, because you knew he’d have a harder time saying no or disciplining you

· and he knew you were using that to your advantage, he saw right through it

· yet most of the time it worked

· sam was more of a no nonsense type of person, so if you wanted to break the rules and act like a big girl, he was going to treat you like one

· sam is the ultimate brat tamer and you can’t convince me otherwise

· as a punishment, he loved making you ride his thigh (have y’all seen this man’s thighs? three course meal), but not letting you cum

· whenever you’d whine or pout, he’d remind you that you brought this on yourself

· while joaquín would try to get him to go easy on you, because he took pity on you and kinda has a soft spot for you

· until one day you made the mistake of pushing him too far

· maybe you’d felt like they weren’t giving enough attention, so you threatened to go get it somewhere else. Maybe you even brought up how you could go to that one friend who had a crush on you (you definitely weren’t going to, but you knew how to push their buttons)

· whether you were planning on following through with that threat of not didn’t matter

· you got the punishment of your life on that day

· he’d edged you for hours, to the point where you were crying and trembling and begging him to cum

· so he made you cum, non-stop

· “you wanted me to let you cum, didn’t you? Now take it like a good girl”

· even sam is SHOOK, now he almost took pity on you

· by the time they’re done with you you can barely remember your own name

· they took you to pound town 😌

· ALSO, you’re all switches, and sometimes you enjoy cuffing one of them or being the one giving out the orders

· I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, torres has a praise kink and LOVES being called a good boy

· Sam has one as well, but it’s more discreet

· likes being told how good he’s making the two of you feel, how no one else can do it like him

· ok but aftercare with them would be so soft

· you’re all super attentive to each other’s needs and usually know if it’s time for a bubble bath and cuddles or if you want to be held and drift to sleep

· lazy morning sex!!! just the three of you taking your time, exploring each other without a rush and not worrying about the outside world

· if they’re on a mission together and have a bit of free time, expect lots of nudes and teasing

· or sometimes even videos, which you find not fair because they have each other and you’re all alone

· NFJDNVEF imagine you buy them one of those clone a willy kits as a joke 💀💀💀 but you end up actually using them

· you know how they gave you their dog tags? yeah it drives them crazy whenever they’re fucking you or you’re riding them and they see the tags bounce

· especially those times where you’d wake them up in the middle of the night because you had a wet dream and couldn’t wait till the next morning. Where the only light entering your room would be provided by the moon, sometimes shining on the tags they gave you

· … imagine sometimes two of you decide to team up against the third and compete to see who’ll give them more orgasms 👀the loser has to do whatever the winner wants

· Jdfvfds lord this is such a long mess i’m so sorry

· in conclusion, there would never be a dull moment with those two and they’d be the sweetest, gentlest partners

Tags: @bury-my-love-inthe-moondust

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #just sam wilson #tfatws #tfatws imagine #sam wilson x joaquin torres #sam wilson x joaquin torres x reader

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

#Bun writes #party favours #Tony Stark x y/n #Tony Stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #Bruce Banner x y/n #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #We're going to Hell y'all

[guudak]

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?” 

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.” 

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be. 

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head. 

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ” 

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

 hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled. 

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs. 

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother. 

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back. 

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.” 

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you. 

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh. 

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him. 

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.” 

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?” 

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.” 

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest. 

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so. 

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up. 

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed. 

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila. 

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two - 

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in. 

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!” 

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook. 

So that was that. 

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.” 

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next. 

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?” 

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature. 

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?” 

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven. 

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.” 

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks. 

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name. 

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all. 

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms. 

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell. 

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.” 

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him. 

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.” 

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

 /

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head. 

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed. 

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring. 

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion. 

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.” 

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.” 

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.” 

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.” 

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room. 

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right? 

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered. 

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him. 

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape. 

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead. 

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed. 

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm. 

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been. 

/ 

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground. 

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.” 

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.” 

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.” 

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?” 

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously. 

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous. 

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

 /

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath. 

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place? 

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face. 

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook. 

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point. 

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again. 

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior. 

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.” 

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.  

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.” 

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you. 

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?” 

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.” 

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause. 

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear. 

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees. 

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.” 

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate. 

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you. 

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder. 

When was the last time someone looked at you like that? 

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper. 

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.” 

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing. 

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.” 

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33 

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader

[stusbunker]

When You’re Not a Morning Person, But Sam Loves You Anyway

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester/ Genderneutral!Reader

Written for: @fangirlxwritesx67 for my 800 follower celebration

Word Count: 1200-ish

A/N: Just a fluffy day with Sam away from the bunker and Dean. I was definitely hungry every time I worked on this, so food is a theme. Thanks to @lastactiontricia​ for the pre-read. xoxo Stu

    Sam woke you up with scratchy kisses sprinkled across your bare shoulders. The unnatural quiet of the bunker had you trying to burrow away from his rudely early rousing. Which was when he pulled the pillows from your grasp, unbelievable.

    “Go away!” you pouted.

    His gentle chuckle warmed your belly, topped with a petulant nose scrunch that had you giggling back before you could help it.

    “Good morning?” he offered, thumbing your cheek before he pushed the side of his mouth to your temple.

    “Why am I awake again?” You snaked your arms around his waist, trying to stay horizontal for as long as possible.

    “Because we have plans. Remember?”

    “Oh, right, the plans you won’t tell me about. Those plans.” You sighed. “How come you didn’t mention they were predawn plans, mister?”

    “Because I knew you’d be like this!” Sam began to barter, “I’ll bring your coffee to you if you get dressed.” He gave you his best puppy dog eyes, which really should be outlawed, they’re so earnest.

    You closed your eyes and stretched out, rolling your wrists and your ankles. Once you had drawn that out long enough you glanced back at him, all sleep sultry and coy.

    “Make me breakfast and you have yourself a date,” you countered.

    “Fine, whatever, just hurry up.” Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but watch your ass as you crawled out of bed.

    “Real butter, Sam, none of your vegan substitutes!” you insisted before wrenching the dresser drawer open.

    He was gone with a sly side eye and you were left with the task of guessing what you should wear on a day with an indiscernible agenda. An hour and a lecture from Dean later, you were in the impala, sitting shotgun for only the second or third time ever. 

    “So where are we headed?” you asked nonchalantly, but Sam was already wise to your ways.

    “You’ll see,” his only answer.

    The sky was purple and promising, lightening with every mile east. Pinks and yellows soon evaporated into radiant blue, stringy gauze like clouds streaked the horizon. It felt like a dream.

    “You know, we’re trapped in the car, I can’t weasel my way out of anything now. You might as well tell me what we’re up to,” you tried reasoning with him. Sam pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. “Or not. You could just keep riding the mystery wave you’ve got going.” 

    It wasn’t fair how hot he was when he got like that, all determined and stubborn.

    Just before noon you stopped for lunch at an unimpressive roadside diner, just like on every hunt ever. When it was your turn to order, Sam interrupted.

    “No, Baby, you can get what you actually want.”

    “I’m getting my usual, you know I always get the breakfast special,” you insisted, confused at his firmness.

    “They’ll have the steak and eggs, toast and a side of pancakes with lots of whipped cream,” Sam countered. “Oh, and a chocolate malt, please.”

    You were floored.

    “But–,” you started. Sam shook his head and smiled at the waitress who left you in peace.

    “You get whatever you want today. Not what you think is in the budget,” Sam explained. “I want you to be happy, not just content.”

    The warmth rose from your chest and coated your face, burning over your giddy grin. “Fine, but you’re sharing the milkshake.”

    “Deal.” Sam nudged your ankle under the table.

     You slept off your food coma on the next leg of the drive. You woke to a warm breeze and the far off call of birds. The street was lined with ancient trees that filtered the midafternoon sunshine in lazy swatches. Sam was reading on his phone against the steering wheel. In a practiced gesture, you reached up and brushed his hair behind his ear.

    “You’re up.” He smiled down at you, then took your hand and kissed it. “Ready?”

    “I don’t know, I mean, I only have my knife on me,” you teased. 

    “Of course you do,” Sam chuckled. “But I doubt you’ll be needing it.”

    Sam nodded to the world outside the car and you spun to face your destination. A massive brick building covered in foliage lay beyond the modest parking lot. There was a grand glass entry way that welcomed you to the Missouri Botanical Garden.

    “You drove all the way to Saint Louis?!” You gaped and threw your door open. “Sam! Holy shit. Let’s go!”

    He sighed. “Now you’re excited.” But he followed all the same.

    As Sam paid your admission, you raced through the lobby, giving the high ceilings and artwork a passing glance as you pushed onto the wide stairway that lead to the different paths. Biodomes beckoned across the lawns, fountains and pools appeared in every direction dotted with the most stunning statues. It was so alive and it never seemed to end. You bypassed the guided tour on the little tram to stretch your legs, but silently you regretted it after an hour of wandering.

    You caught Sam snapping your picture while you bent over the bridge in the Climatron, maybe he had been doing it the whole time, but you weren’t sure since you had been mesmerized by every single detail. You couldn’t help but grin so wide it hurt.

    “This is amazing.” You beamed at him, snaking your arm in his. He smirked, pleased with himself and his surprise.

    “Predawn plans are worth it after all?” he teased.

     “Eh,” you downplayed. “This time at least.”

      Sam leaned in and kissed the top of your head. Before you knew it you were tucked onto a bridge in the Japanese garden watching hordes of koi and ducks swarm for food. Some of the fish were the size of a Beagle and you couldn’t help but get lost in the frenzy of bright colors just out of reach.

      You never wanted to leave, but you were getting hungry and there was no way you were leaving town without some barbeque. Sam even joined in, letting the perfectly cooked pork fill his belly. You promised not to tell Dean he helped finish your cornbread.

      “He wouldn’t believe you anyway.” Sam winked.

      At your insistence, Sam stopped at a craft brewery just passed Busch Stadium to get a treat for Dean. It was getting late and you hated that your special day had to end. With a four pack in each hand you followed Sam to the backseat, dropping the beer in their ancient green cooler for the trip home.

     “So, good day?” Sam asked, pulling you to his chest. You could see the Arch in the distance beyond the highway and the stadium. His palm was warm against your back, rubbing brisk strokes that warmed you instantly.

     “Nope,” you shook your head and watched his face freeze in anticipation. “The best.”

      He kissed you around a smile, dimples pulling at your heartstrings like they always did. You and Sam might not get to do normal couples things often, but when you did they were all the sweeter.

      “Can we make out in the car and rub it in Dean’s face tomorrow?” you whispered conspiratorially as Sam’s mouth sank to your throat.

      “Definitely. But then we’re getting a real hotel room, because I am not making that drive twice in one day.” Sam said in between burning kisses. 

       “Oh hell yes,” you murmured, turning to duck into the backseat.

Prompt #2 of 8

Sam x Reader, a perfect day. Whatever you think a perfect day with Sam would be. It can be canon or AU but I would prefer Sam from s12-15.

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @thoughtslikeaminefield  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @princessofthefandomrealm @awesomesusiebstuff​

#sam winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #stu's 800 or less #sam fluff #spn fluff #sam/reader #sam x reader #gender neutral reader #neutral reader #spn imagine #sam winchester x reader

[chicksung]

Welcome to My Playground

Pairing: boyfriend!Yuta x fem reader

Genre: fluff, just soft boyfriend yuta moments

Warning/s: quarantine breaking, lil bit of swearing

Word Count: 1.1k

Synopsis: You just wanted to feel the sun on your skin, see the stars from your backyard. You want to go on dates with your boyfriend. Well, maybe your boyfriend can help you.

A/N: Hello! I’ve been posting a lot of nct recently but I’ll make sure to post other groups soon. Once I get a laptop, I will make my masterlist to clear up my blog a little. Enjoy!

You couldn’t take this anymore. It had been sixteen days since you decided to keep yourself and others around you safe and stay at home, but Jesus Christ, were you bored. You had already done everything you could, read three books, done a 1500 piece puzzle by yourself. Hell, you almost burnt your kitchen down trying to bake cookies, but now you were starting to slow down.

Your boyfriend Yuta, on the other hand, was out almost everyday due to his schedule and often wasn’t home until late at night. You barely got to see at this point, seeing as you were basically falling asleep from boredom. Tonight was no different...except you couldn’t fall asleep.

Yuta unlocked the front door and walked through the threshold, taking off his shoes and putting on his slippers. He whipped his coat off and hung it on the coatrack, finally stepping into the main room.

He saw you curled up on the couch, blankly staring at the tv, your lips, which usually wore the most beautiful and precious smile he has ever seen, was a tight thin line across your face.

“Babe?” He called out, the sweet sound of his voice causing you to look up. Immediately, your infamous flashed as you turned your head and lauched yourself off the couch and into his arms.

“You’re home!” You giggled, wrapping yourself around his upper body like a baby koala clinging to its mother. He smiled as he held you close and kissed the top of your head.

“Of course I am. I could never keep you waiting. Are you okay, sweetheart? You seemed..distant just a few moments ago.” He questioned, his sparkling brown eyes looking directly into yours. You let out a groan and threw your head back.

“I’m so fucking bored, Yuta! I thought this quarantine was going to be great, I would get so much done, I would be so productive and I would get to spend more time with you. But with gone all day, I’ve run out of things to do.” You paused to pout at him. “This quarantine is such bullshit.” You mumbled under your breath.

“I know it is baby, but think about it. At least you’re staying healthy.” Yuta sighed, petting your hair. You grimace at him, looking like an angry puppy in his eyes.

“I hate this! I wanna feel the sun on my skin, I wanna see the stars while standing outside.” You told him, before your eyes softened and you sunk back into his chest. “But most importantly, I wanna go on dates with you. And not our movie dates. I wanna go outside.” You sighed, your hands gripping onto Yuta’s sweater.

He sighed, wondering what on earth he was gonna do with you before an idea came to his head. An idea that could end up with both of you in trouble, but if it would stop your complaining (as cute as it was) he was going to do it.

“Baby girl, go get your coat.” He whispered, his hand resting on your cheek. Your eyes widened with confusion and a rush of adrenaline you could only assume was from excitement.

“Wait. Where are we going?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on and grabbed your coat as well as his.

Yuta only chuckled.

“To make some memories.”

The night was cold but having Yuta by your side was like having your own personal heater. There was no one on the street, seeing it has about one in the morning. There was the odd car every now and again, but not enough for it to have high traffic.

Yuta guided you straight to the gated playground with a little sign hanging on it.

Due to COVID-19, this playground is closed

Yuta let go of your hand to grab onto the top of the gate and swing himself over. You looked shocked at his moves, causing him to laugh.

“Nakamoto Yuta, what the fuck are you doing?” You hissed, your demeanour slightly shifting. He smiled cheekily and reacted his hand through the gate.

“Come on, let’s do something fun.” He said, gesturing for you to jump over. You hesitantly look around before swinging yourself over the gate like he had.

“We’ll get into so much trouble if we get caught.” You reminded him as he took your hand again. He laughed again, leaning down to your height.

“That’s if we get caught.” He emphasised, kissing your cheek and leading you to the large amount of play equipment.

The city lights shimmered on the lake, dancing with the ripples in the water. It almost looked magical. Yuta pulled you from your thoughts as he pulled you up onto a platform before letting go of your hand and tapped your shoulder.

“Tag, you’re it.” He grinned childishly before taking off at the speed of light. You pulled a face of confusing and disbelief at his childlike behaviour but that soon dissolved into competitiveness and you started chasing him.

You played on the playground for what felt like hours, reminiscing your childhood and Yuta recollecting his from his life in Japan. You loved listening to him talk about his home country, his family, his friends. It made you feel closer to him.

Your head rested on his shoulder, the two of you perched on the top of the monkey bars and watching the lake and the distant street lamps on the other side.

“Thank you, Yuta. I needed this.” You smiled, your eyes closing when you sighed in contentment. He smiled at your peaceful state before petting your head.

“I know you did. You complain way too much when you get bored.” He teased, earning a slight slap to his chest from you.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you were the one couped up in a house for weeks on end. You actually get to leave the house. On a daily basis too.” You retorted, folding your arms and glaring at him. He chuckled, grabbing your hand and interlocking your fingers.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I guess I understand why you would be so bored. Maybe I should teach you how to play guitar? Then you could learn some songs.” He suggested, his gaze settling back on the view.

You nodded, your smile returning. “I’d like that.” You said with a sleepy tone in your voice. You yawned lightly before looking at Yuta. He smiled.

“Guess it’s time to take you home.” He chuckled in a soft tone, tucking a flyaway hair behind your ear. He lifted your chin to give you a soft and loving kiss. The perfect end to this little adventure, in his opinion.

“Well, at least we di-” Before you could even finish your sentence, a flashlight was shone onto the playground.

“Hey! What you kids doing here!” A gruff voice yelled, causing you and Yuta to panic slightly.

“Shit. Run!”

#kpop #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct yuta #nct fluff #nct 127 #nakamoto yuta #fluff #kpop fluff

[writeyourownlifestory]

Sometimes . . . Dead Is Better

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: IT Rating: E Warnings: Character Death, Zombie(?), Literally Pet Sematary. Gay bashing. Homophobia. Murder. Animal death. Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, lots of death.

Tag list: @richietoaster, @beproudtozier, @that-weird-girls-blog, @s-onora, @s-s-georgie, @bellarosewrites, @iamcupcakefrosting, @reddieonwheels, @ghostnebula, @madidraw @madi-main, @gazebobullshit, @thoughtfullyyoungduck​, @airbenderking, @ambitiousskychild, @tozierking​,

You know what they say about Derry, no one who dies here ever really dies.

IT + Pet Semetary = fun times for no one involved

It all started when their dog passed away.

They had decided to spend their summer vacation in Maine, a terrible decision on their parents as the city had far more to offer than their sleepy little town. Eddie had just started a new job and was only given a week to take off during the months of June to August. They chose July because that’s when it would be the least offensively hot in Maine.

Richie had landed a pretty sweet job interviewing celebrities for Podcasts. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do with his life, but he’d take it over being unemployed. Rather than sit around in their apartment for a week like Richie had hoped they would, they packed up their travel-sized belongings and headed back to the town they grew up in.

Despite his mother begging him to stay in his old childhood bedroom, Eddie put his foot down and settled to rent a room in the local townhouse. Sonia Kaspbrak wasn’t happy about it, but so long as Eddie was back, she’d deal.

Richie was content with this choice. For one, his own family no longer lived in Derry, so it wasn’t like he had anywhere to offer. Second, Eddie’s bedroom, which was basically a shrine to the poor guy, was too small for them to both fits. Not that Sonia would even allow Richie to stay there. She had never lived Richie, neither as Eddie’s friend or boyfriend, so Richie was sure if they were going to stay at the Kaspbrak house, he’d be sleeping on that uncomfortable couch.

Luckily, Eddie cared about his well being enough to not force him to do that and they got themselves a room with a mattress big enough for them both.

It started off pretty good. Eddie’s mother was beginning him to come over and spend time with her, wanting him to use up all seven days with just her. He compromised and gave as much time as he could while also meeting up with some old friends. Mike Hanlon still lived in Derry, running the library as the local historian.

Most of the group had moved on out of Derry, choosing to have lives of their own. The only ones they saw often enough were Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris, who went back and forth from Long Island to California depending on whether or not Bill’s latest novel was to be turned into a script. The last time Richie and Eddie saw Ben Hanscom and Beverly (formerly Marsh) Hanscom was when they announced the birth of their first child.

It was tough growing up and growing apart from the people you always left closest to. Eddie and Richie were lucky as they always had each other. Through all the ups and downs, the trials and tribulations, Eddie had Richie and Richie had Eddie. It wasn’t easy because hello, being gay in Maine was never easy, but they made it work back in high school and they’d make it work here.

The first day had been them getting comfortable and meeting up with Mike for dinner. It was nice seeing a friendly face to talk about all the things that changed. The Aladdin was still standing, still looking as beaten up as ever. The standpipe was still the obnoxious eyesore that made the town look ever so picturesque. Keene’s drug store was still around and Richie made sure to tease Eddie about picking up his inhaler replacement.

They hung out and enjoyed themselves in the townhouse. Eddie was still iffy about certain things and made sure to change the sheets on the bed with the ones they had brought from home. It was for the best and Richie wasn’t going to argue with him, especially since Eddie was more than kind enough to allow Richie to messy them up in their own way when they got home from dinner.

It was the following day that everything turned to shit. Eddie had promised to spend the entire day with his mother, leaving Richie to fend for himself in the penthouse. Along with their luggage, they also brought along with dog Penny. She was a preciously little Pomeranian who was sweeter than candy and the apple of their eye. They had been thinking of getting a pet for a while and after finally buying a place of their own, they went down to the shelter to pick one out.

Pure breed dogs like Penny weren’t usually brought to places like that, rather sold by a breeder, but they were in luck. Her mother had been put up for adoption while pregnant and the puppies were scattered across the shelter. They took the smallest one because it reminded Richie so much of Eddie and welcomed her into their home.

They weren’t too sure where the name came from. Richie joked that they called her Penny because she was dirt cheap compared to so many other dogs that literally cost you an arm and a leg just to have. Eddie liked to think they got it from “Penny Lane” the Beatle song, but neither was right or wrong.

Now, the thing about the townhouse was that the whole thing hadn’t been updated since they were kids. No nice TVs or anything from the modern era. There were fans offered, but no AC unit in place. Richie was suffering from the heat and opened the far window in hopes of casting a bit of fresh air into the place.

He sat on the couch with his computer, trying to come up with some new material for the standup special he had been working on. He was funny and knew he could be funny outside of the podcast world. All he needed was the material to show it off.

Well, Penny was a precocious little pup and always liked to inspect things. She hopped up onto the window sill and began yapping at the birds on the outside. She had done the same thing yesterday, except the difference was there were several inches of glass keeping her at bay. Now there was no barrier between them, so nothing stopped the poor thing from leaping out the window, charging at the birds.

Unlike the birds however, she didn’t have wings to keep her from falling the several stories down onto the pavement below. It was only the sound of her whimpering that caught Richie’s ear. It didn’t take much for the man to realize what happened and by the time he got down to the street belong, Penny was suffering more than any animal should.

Richie was distraught. Despite never having been known to be an animal person, Penny was as close to as a child that Eddie and he were going to have for a while. She was literally their baby. They had taken her at the moment she was able to get off drinking from her mother. They bought her toys and little outfits. Eddie talked about buying a carriage so he could push her around while jogging because her little legs were just too short for the three-mile trip he’d take around the city.

She even had her own corner in their bedroom and a dog house in the living room of their place, but at the end of the day, she always ended up sleeping on their bed.

Eddie even put a little staircase at the foot of the bed so she could hop on up without issue.

And now she was dead on the ground, having fallen from their fucking room because Richie couldn’t just put up with the heat.

He felt awful. Disgusting and terrible. Eddie would hate him for this, that much was obvious. He’d call him every bad name in the book because he just had to open up the window. Even if it was a mistake, an innocent one, that didn’t stop Richie from feeling like garbage.

He called Mike because he had no other idea of what to do. He didn’t know if there were any local vets or anything like that. There was no way they’d be burying her here. The last thing Richie wanted was to leave their precious little Penny behind.

Richie thought about cremating her and bringing her back up to New York. They could scatter her ashes along the water or keep her in an urn in their apartment. Eddie would probably want to leave a little memorial at her favorite park. They didn’t have a backyard or anything like that, so they took her to the dog park two to three times a week.

When Mike came, they sat together, with Penny tucked away inside one of the meatpacking boxes.

He wanted to wait for Eddie. He had to wait for Eddie because if they guy came home and Richie told him that he was gone and Eddie didn’t even get to say goodbye, then that would just make it so much worse.

They sat together in the alleyway behind the townhouse, smoking as Richie thought about his fate and how angry Eddie would be.

“She used to curl up on Eddie’s lap whenever he was trying to work.” He mentioned to Mike with a loving smile. “All she ever wanted to do was cuddle us and we let her because we were mushes. Now she’s gone.”

Richie rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, ignoring the fear of tears coming on. He felt sick to his stomach and looked over to the box just a few feet away from him.

“My dog died when I was a kid,” Mike admitted quietly. “It was before we met. Henry Bowers gave him meat that was laced with insect poison. Guess he thought the old mutt was an eyesore.”

Richie shivered at the thought of Bowers and all the old memories came flooding back to him. He had been a thorn in Richie’s side even before he realized he was gay though the latter didn’t help matters much. He was a racist, homophobic shit who probably went nowhere in life. Or worse, actually made something of himself.

Either way, the less they spoke about Bowers the better.

“My grandfather told me about a place high up on the hills near the old Native American tribute. Apparently, the place still has some magic hidden up there or something. Anyway, he  carried the old boy there and the next day, he was back.”

“Back? Like . . . back from the dead?”

“I can’t explain it, but he was back. Different, but back.”

“Different how?”

“Mean,” Mike confessed, putting out the butt of his cigarette on the nearby wall. “He was pretty vicious. Broke into the barn and killed a couple of sheep. My grandfather ended up putting him down because he was becoming such a problem.”

“Penny couldn’t kill a thing. Barely weights five pounds.” Richie mentioned, looking from Mike to the box. He didn’t believe in magic or anything of the sorts, but he was a desperate man. “Where was this place?”

Turned out to be twenty minutes away by car, out towards where Mike lived and even further than that. The sky was turning dark by the time they got there and passing through the woods didn’t make it any easier.

“I want you to know the only reason I brought you here is that you’re my friend,” Mike told him calmly as they made their way down the path. There was a small area with handmade gravestones and a sign reading “Pet Sematary” hanging above. The incorrect spelling would drive Eddie crazy and Richie found himself smiling just thinking of it.

“So what, I just . . . pick a place?”

“Not here,” Mike said and carried down past the bushels of woods and up the hill town until they came upon a bleak circle with Native American carvings all along the ground.

“Have you been here before?” Richie asked carefully.

“Once. My grandfather and I were looting the area for anything we thought we could sell.” Mike admitted.

“You stole from Native Americans? Don’t they have enough to deal with?” Richie inquired.

With a slight glare, he continued. “He showed me this place and told me a few things about it. He didn’t want me to be curious and find it on my own. Mike paused, turning to hand Richie the shovel as he took the box that contained Penny. “You bury your own.” He told him. “That’s the rule.”

With one last sigh, Richie got to digging. He didn’t think any of this would work, but he was desperate to find out. If it all turned out to be some sick joke on Mike’s end, then at least they could call the trip short. Richie would dig up Penny and they’d go to the next town over to cremate her. They’d handle her ashes properly and Richie would take whatever punishment Eddie had planned for him.

When he was finished, he found himself more tired than expected. Like the place took away whatever energy he had to offer it. He got back to the townhouse and fell into the bed, falling asleep before even realizing it.

When he woke the following morning, it was to the sound of Eddie yelling at him. He jolted up, not knowing what day it was or why he was being hassled. He pushed himself up and out of bed, realizing only now he still had his muddy shoes on.

He stepped out of the bedroom and found Eddie on the floor, kneeling down beside a very dirty Penny. Her normally golden fur was matted with dirt and she was yipping around and around, much like the bubble ball of energy she was before.

“Seriously? What the hell did you do, take her running through the woods?” Eddie demanded, looking up to Richie. “And you! What, did you sleep in dirty clothes?”

“You didn’t come home last night,” Richie mumbled, rubbing his hand against his face.

“Mom had me watch one of those Turner Classic Movie Marathons. I fell asleep on the couch. I texted you but I never got a reply.” Eddie stood them, carrying Penny in his arms. “Come on, pretty girl. You need a bath. And Papa is gonna be the one to do it.”

Penny was shoved in his arms before he could even properly respond. Shuffling off to the bathroom, he listened to Eddie go on and on about his day with his mother while he got the tub set up for Penny.

He watched the dog curiously, trying to piece together what the hell happened. For a split second, Richie thought that the entire events of last night had been a horrible dream. Maybe he had just taken Penny out somewhere and they both got dirty. This town always gave him headaches, a little memory loss was no surprise to him.

“Rich, why is the window open?” Eddie asked as he popped his head into the bathroom. “In the living room. It’s wide open, you didn’t leave it open all night, did you? What if a bird got in? I swear I leave you alone for a fucking day.”

Richie stared with wide eyes at the dog that was digging into the bathroom rug. If last night wasn’t a dream, then that would mean Penny came back from the dead. How the fuck did she get back to the apartment? How did she get into the apartment? Nothing made sense to Richie, but he tried to ignore it all as he lifted her up and put her into the tub.

Normally, Penny was a lover of bath time. At their own apartment, they had plenty of room in their double-sized tub so it wouldn’t be a surprise for her to whine and whimper until Eddie lifted her up and they all bathed together on nights when they just needed some relaxation.

She would sit and allow Eddie to wash her and blow bubbled with her nose. Richie had countless pictures of her on his phone where she had colorful shower caps on to keep her ears or rubber duckies to keep her entertained.

Now, the former majestic and comforting dog was growling and yipping at Richie, going so far as to bite his arm when he tried to wash her. Richie couldn’t remember a single time that Penny had a bit at him, had snapped at all, but he chose not to question it.

She was back and they’d live with the attitude adjustment for now. He made a mental note to message Mike and give him a heads up about the place, but for now, he had a zombie dog to wash.

After the bath, Richie let Penny go and she moved around the apartment, going into the corner sit alone. Richie also took a shower, washing away all the dirt under his hair and somehow in his hair. He changed into clean clothes and found the dirty sheets had already been stripped and changed by Eddie, who was back in the kitchen, typing away on his computer as he drank his coffee.

“I thought we agreed on no work?” He asked casually, going to plop down onto the couch.

“Not work. Social stuff. Updating statues and all that.” Eddie moved forward, going to sit beside him on the couch. He held up his laptop, showing a picture from facebook. It was from Beverly and Ben with their baby on the beach. An adorable scene with Beverly completely slathered in sunscreen because of her pale complexion and Ben wearing the ugliest fucking hat he has ever seen. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Richie had to smile. He wasn’t wrong. They were very, very cute because how could they not be? They had been together since the end of high school. Lots of back and forth before Beverly finally grew a brain and realized the one she wanted and needed was Ben. They were a gorgeous family and Richie was envious of her happiness.

“That could be us someday,” Eddie ventured with a smile.

“Babe, you wear like . . . three times more sunblock than Beverly and if you think I’m wearing a hat that horrendous, you’re mistaken.”

“Not that, dumbass. The baby!” Right. The child.

Eddie had talked about it before. The whole adoption thing. Richie wasn’t opposed to it. Eddie had originally suggested fostering but Richie shut that down hardcore because he knew better. He knew Eddie would never be able to let the kid go so at least if they adopted right off the bat, they wouldn’t have to deal with anybody coming and trying to take the kid away from them.

“Eds, we’ve tried to remember? We just can’t seem to get you pregnant,” Richie teased, the tip of his nose nuzzling Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie sighed, closing the computer and placing it onto the coffee table beside Richie’s. They had talked about a lot of things. Adoption. Marriage. Growing old together. His own parents lived happily together raising two kids before retiring to Flordia. They weren’t perfect, but they didn’t have to be. Richie just hoped to be half the kind of partner his father had been, even if he wanted to be a better father.

“Your mom's not gonna cry and beg you to spend the night again, will she?” Richie asked curiously.

“Probably, but I won’t go. I told her I’d see her later this week but I want to use this time wisely and actually enjoy my vacation. Not just run around and do errands for her.”

“What a good son you are, Eddie Bear,” Richie said, kissing his cheeks wetly. Eddie groaned and pushed him away, causing Richie to laugh out. “Seriously, though. Do you have any plans? Did you sign us up for anything? No one to have dinner with?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, then what do you say to a good old fashioned date, huh? I was thinking: movies, dinner, and a walk along rickety Kissing Bridge?”

It was what they did when they were teenagers. Hang back at the top of the theater, grabbed pizza at the local parlor, and spit loogies off the bridge to the river below. Of course, as they got older and became an item, things became more romantic. They held hands during the movies and separated from the others for dinner. The only spit they shared at the bridge were kisses shared in secret. It wasn’t ideal, but it was good enough for them.

“I think you got yourself a date, Tozier.” Eddie decided, turning his head to kiss Richie.

It almost deepened then and while Richie would have been more than happy to let Eddie have his way with him right on the couch, they both turned away to see Penny pissing on the TV stand.

“Penny! What the hell?” Normally when the pup had to go she would let out a whimper and circle at the door. She was well trained; they had her certificate at doggy school and everything, but none of that seemed to matter anymore. Eddie pushed up off the couch to clean up and Richie watched as the dog walked on, obviously not giving a single fuck.

They changed and left the apartment. Richie worried about what Penny would do when they were gone, what trouble she would get into. She wasn’t a messy dog; she had been a wonderful puppy and didn’t even chew on a single shoe, but now that she was . . . different, he worried about what would come of it.

Richie couldn’t think about that right now. He wanted to focus on something better and that was going out on a date with his boyfriend. They chose whatever the theater was playing when they arrived. Didn’t bother to check online, mostly cause Eddie wasn’t even sure the Aladdin even had a website. They chose The Monkey’s Paw, some old black and white film that was playing; bought their large popcorn and sodas and went up to the top ledge as they did as kids.

Richie kicked his feet up, waiting for Eddie to do the same so they could intertwine their ankles. They shared the popcorn and a few kisses as the film played on. It wasn’t a horrible movie; definitely worth the time to see it through Richie found he much preferred to watch Eddie than to watch whatever was happening on screen.

When it was over, they tossed out their containers and left the theatre. Eddie was talking a mile a minute about the movie they just watched, all the while Richie just smiled and nodded along. They went to the nearby diner for dinner and Richie watched as Eddie searched and searched before finally deciding to go with a plain burger. He asked what kind of grease they used, but gave up trying afterward because it was fucking Derry Maine, they couldn’t expect anything to be healthy around here, even with the growing vegan trend.

They shared fries and onion rings, talking about all the fun they used to have when they were kids, trying to split the bill with their allowances; counting nickels and dimes just to make it. Now they were both making money and paying for the bill was with a quick swipe of the credit card.

It was a calm night, sitting and chatting with each other as Richie continued to flood the table jukebox, playing all the songs they grew up with. He ended on “Together Forever” by Rick Astley because it was loud and dramatic, the exact opposite of Eddie. Richie sang it to him lovingly, not caring if anybody watched. The look he got from Eddie was more than enough. A glance that says: you’re a total idiot but you’re my total idiot.

What more could he ever want?

When they finished, Richie persuaded Eddie to take a walk with him. It was late, but not too late. The moon was high in the sky, just after sundown. The heat settled and the breeze was beginning to pick up around them.

They walked down the lane together, right up to Kissing Bridge. Eddie read the names aloud, trying to think if he knew any of the people. They stopped when they came upon the all too familiar carving. Richie had done it back when they were just kids. Barely fourteen at the time and completely in love with his best friend. The carving was faded by now, but the sentiment meant the same.

R + E

Richie plus Eddie.

“Forever and ever, babe,” Richie mentioned, going to lean against the bridge. He watched Eddie, catching the moonlight in his eyes and in his hair. He was gorgeous and always would be. “You know . . . I had been thinking about this for a while.”

“You: thinking? Oh, that can’t be good.” Eddie laughed softly.

“It’s kind of obvious that you’re it for me, Eduardo. And unless you can find another ugly mother fucking with a gangly body, I think I might be it for you too.”

“Depends on if the circus is coming to town,” Eddie mentioned, a loving smile coming across his face.

“Eds. I’m sure there are thousands of ways I could do this and maybe waiting until we get back to New York is the better choice, but call me a sentimental fuck, but I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather ask you this.”

He had both the ring a month ago, knowing eventually they’d have the time together and he’d be able to ask. Richie couldn’t think of a better place than their hometown. Not because of the idealistic ways around it, but rather because what would be a better fuck you to this horrible town than being extremely gay smack dab in the middle of it?

Richie got down onto one knee, holding out the ring box he had fished from his jacket pocket. It was white gold with an overlay of diamonds. Simple and elegant, just like Eddie himself.

“Eddie Spaghetti,”

Eddie laughed, his cheeks turning scarlet in the moonlight. “Christ Rich,”

“Would you do the honor of marrying me?”

“Do you really think I’d say no, asshole? Yes! One hundred times yes,”

Richie’s smile was as bright as the fucking moon. He slipped the ring on, which was the perfect size because he knew exactly what size finger Eddie had. He knew more about Eddie than he knew about himself sometimes.

When all was said and done he stood, towering over the other male, though he bent forward to kiss him, not caring at his glasses were pushed up against his nose. They’d deal with it later.

Lost in their kiss, neither noticed the car stopping in the middle of the bridge or the driver getting out of it. When they broke away, Richie turned to see an all too familiar blue thunderbird idling on the bridge and coming over to them was the same mullet-wearing asshole that made his life a living hell all those years ago.

“Well, ain't this a pretty sight.” Henry Bowers muttered, looking over to his companions.

“Hello to you too, Bowers,” Eddie said, looking the group up and down slowly.

“Tozier and Kaspbrak. Haven’t seen your ugly faces around here in a while.” Henry mentioned. “Thought I got rid of your losers.”

“No, that was college. We went there while you stayed and jerked off into a bucket.” Richie replied back easily.

“Always knew you two were fucking each other. What? Marsh’s puss wasn’t good enough so you two turned into a couple of faggots?”

“There is so much wrong in everything you just said.” Eddie groaned, rubbing at his temple. The ring caught the moonlight and Henry’s attention.

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order,” Henry mentioned, approaching slowly. He placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder, that sadistic smile that always sent a shiver down Richie’s spine shined darkly. “Welcome home,” He said cheerfully before driving his fist into Richie’s stomach.

It wasn’t their first beating. They had taken blows by Bowers and his gang before and back in New York they were used to someone shouting something at them despite it being new age. They went back and forth, each putting up a fight because they weren’t going to let Bowers win this round.

It came to a close when he tried to take Eddie’s ring. The shorter male bought back, going so far as to land a punch right in Henry’s eye. That pissed him off enough to brandish the knife he always kept in the back pocket. He held onto Eddie’s hand tightly, threatening to cut off his finger and wear the ring around his neck as a souvenir.

At this point, it wasn’t worth it and Richie was shouting for Eddie to just give it up. The other assholes were holding him down, refusing to let him up to help Eddie.

Bowers licked the knife slowly, bringing the tip of it to Eddie’s face to teach him. In a swift move, Eddie jerked forward, kneeing Henry in the dick. The pain was enough to send a surge of angry through him and Bower buried the knife in Eddie’s face, cutting deeply into his cheek.

Eddie cried out, both in shock and pain, while Bowers decided to let the knife stay there as he punched the rest of Eddie’s face until his knuckles were bloody.

Richie thought it would end there. He thought they would be left beaten and bloody, but alive in the middle the street.

They couldn’t get that lucky.

Using the last bit of strength he had, Eddie muttered one final thought. “You should cut that fucking mullet. It’s been like twenty years, man.”

With that, Bowers offered one more blow before standing to his feet. He shouted for the others to come over and help him. They left Richie on the other side of the road to watch as they dragged Eddie over, to the wall of the bridge. And in one smooth move, they lifted him up and tossed him over into the river below.

Richie was left screaming, spitting out blood onto the road as Bowers and his gang drove away. Using whatever strength he had left, Richie pushed himself up, scooping his glasses from the ground, and hurried around to where the opening of the bridge led to the river. He tripped twice and fell first into the edge of the water, pushing himself up onto wobbly legs as he went deeper into the water and over to where Eddie was floating.

“Eddie. Eddie! Wake up, babe. Baby, wake up.” Richie muttered, rolling Eddie over so his face was out of the water.

His eyes were open and his neck was slack. Richie could think of countless times he had gazed into those eyes as a child, as a teen, as a man. No matter the situation, Eddie always seemed to have a wonderful glimmer there.

That glimmer was gone now and replacing it was nothing more than a vacant stare that went nowhere.

His face was mutilated and despite lying in the water for over three minutes, there was no washing the blood away. It stained his skin in the worst way, leaving him wet and icky.

He was completely unresponsive and while it was plain to see that he wasn’t dealing with shock or just fell contentious, Richie continued to hold onto him and mutter his name, rocking him slowly until someone above spotted and alerted the authorities.

Richie was treated for his wounds at the hospital while Eddie was taken away by the coroner. It still hadn’t hit Richie yet that this happened. That Eddie was dead. When he spoke to the hospital officials, they said a full autopsy hasn’t been done but their best guess was a broken neck and drowning.

They cleaned him up and stitched up any wounds he had, leaving him looking more like Frankenstein than anything. He called Mike, not knowing what else to do in this situation. And Mike called Stanley and Bill because this wasn’t something Richie should have to deal with alone.

When Richie tried to report the crime, however, he found himself being rebuffed.

“Henry Bowers couldn’t have done this,” The officer on call explained to him. “He’s on the force. He might be a hothead like his old man, but he wouldn’t break the law. He is the law.”

“Do you think I am fucking lying about this?” Richie practically screamed.

“You already said his dad was a hothead. What makes you think Bowers wouldn’t do this?” Mike challenged the officer.

“Because he is an officer. Now, unless you want to give me a real report, I suggest you deal with your own trouble.”

The officer walked away and the only reason why he didn’t straight up maul the officer was because of Mike holding him back.

“I haven’t even seen him!” Richie shouted to Mike, beginning to pace the hospital, having not seen Eddie since they arrived at the hospital. “I don’t even fucking know where he is.”

He was breaking down. He knew he was breaking down and there was no way to stop it. Richie wanted to fall to the ground and cry, not caring who saw him. He had just proposed. They were going to get married. They were going to look into adoption, they would have a family. Everything was going so fucking well for them and now it felt like the world was falling apart around them.

Mike ended up sweet talking one of the nurses into letting Richie see Eddie. He was given a five-minute window, which seemed cruel for a man who watched his lover died.

He laid on the slab completely still, eyes still wide open as he looked out over nothing. They washed away the blood, though the bruises still remained. There was no point in stitching him up, leaving the wound open on his cheese.

There was no denying it anymore. He wasn’t just frozen in the moment or in a vegetative state. Eddie Kaspbrak was dead and there was no going back.

Richie could only apologize so many times but he’d go on and on for as long as it took. He was so fucking sorry. Sorry that he let Penny fall from the window. Sorry that he fought with his mother to the point where she didn’t want him at her house. Sorry that he bothered to propose in public in such a fucked uptown.

Richie was just so fucking sorry.

All their plans were gone. All their hopes were gone. Eddie was gone.

But he didn’t have to be.

In the darkest part of Richie’s mind, he knew there had to be a way it would work. It worked on a dog, so why not a man? Anything was possible, right? And if it didn’t work, then at least then he would know and he could have closure. If it didn’t work then he’d confess to everything and they’d bury Eddie for real. They’d give him a proper burial and his mom would have Richie even more but that was fine.

It was worth a shot.

Stealing a body from a hospital wasn’t easy and he didn’t really know what to do once he slipped through the back door. He carried Eddie, wrapped up in the sheet from the hospital, all the way to the area that Mike had first taken him too. Richie had never been very strong, but he found the strength to take Eddie all the way up there.

He walked down the path and up the hill. He went passed the dead animals and into the circle. He found a place right in the middle and started digging. He dug, and dug, and dug until there was nothing left but a gaping hole.

He pulled Eddie into it, holding him for just a moment longer.

“Come back to me,” He muttered, laying him down in the dirt. “You fucking come back to me, you understand?”

Pulling himself out of the hole, Richie pushed all the dirt back on until Eddie was completely covered. Lightening light up the sky and rain began to fall down, though he carried on until the hole was complete. He walked back down the trail in a trance, stopping only when he found Mike at the bottom.

“I couldn’t find you,” Mike said, his voice low and shaking. He looked over Richie, seeing the dirt on his clothes and on his hands. “I couldn’t find you and I knew. Richie . . . whatever you did-”

“It’s done,” Richie told him simply, pushing passed him to continue ongoing down the lane.

“Whatever you think you did, it won’t work. Whatever returns to you, it won’t be Eddie!” Mike warned. He reached back, grabbing Richie’s arm to stop him from walking. “My grandfather had a friend, Rich. His son died overseas and he was so desperate to have him back-”

“It’s done, Mike!” Richie shouted to him, pushing him off. “The law won’t do anything, what other choice did I have?!”

Nobody would listen to Richie, nobody cared about what he had to say. He was just another gay man. Useless and pathetic. Wanting all the attention. There was no way they would believe him if he tried to bring this to outside police or even to court. An off duty police officer vs a homosexual.

There would have been proof. They found the knife that was plunged into Eddie’s cheek; it had the initials of Bower's father along the body of it. And it wasn’t like Richie could kick the shit out of himself and Eddie and still have the strength to push him over the bridge.

All the proof was there, but they still wouldn’t listen. Richie, in his desperation and depression, saw no real solution to this problem.

“Using a fucking Native American burial ground should have never been a choice!” Mike insisted.

“You showed it to be in the first place.”

“For your dog! Not your boyfriend!”

Richie’s eyes glazed over, his head shaking as his glasses became fogged up from the rain. “Eddie will come back. Just like Penny did.”

“It won’t end well, Richie,” Mike warned, but the other man wasn’t listening.

He just kept walking down the lane, all the way back to the townhouse.

#Pet Semetary #REDDIE #Reddie Au #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Mike Hanlon #Henry Bowers

[grandmasterofwangxiancultivation]

94 You’re an idiot. I married an idiot.

okay, i know it’s supposed to be a drabble, but i went a bit overboard…? i hope it’s okay! i choose bingqiu for this prompt, it kinda fitted in my mind :3

Send me a number and i’ll write a drabble (or something longer)!

Rating: MaturePairing: BingqiuAdditional tags: canon universe, post-canon? sort of?Summary: In which Shen Qingqiu is sappy and he knows, Luo Binghe gets overprotective and Liu Qingge just wanted to help.

Read under the cut.

Shen Qingqiu knew that going through with that idea would eventually prove to be troublesome. He had considered it before leaving, of course, watching Luo Binghe fidget nervously in front of him when he told him he was needed elsewhere, away from Qing Jing Peak, together with Liu Qingge.

The idea of parting from his Shizun never appealed him, but knowing that Bai Zhan’s Peak Lord would accompany him… he didn’t like it. Convincing him  had been hard, and it took Shen Qingqiu a great deal of coaxing and indulging his disciple’s requests to let him set off for Lek Yuen City with Liu Qingge. Yulan Festival was still weeks apart but rich merchants and nobles won’t listen to reason until they knew they were well protected and ghost-proofed. Asking their Sect for help in the matter had been a preposterous move, but with a Demon Lord among their ranks Yue Qingyuan had wanted to keep everyone quiet and content.

Everyone but Shen Qingqiu. He was already quiet and content in his bamboo house, studying some plant’s side effect and experimenting around a bit, thank you very much! How come he was the only one available?!

Closing the door behind his back and moving a couple of steps into the room, he sighed. Another day away from his Peak was over, and all in all, he couldn’t deny that he had had fun, venturing in the market streets and strolling through the forest on the edge of the city.

(He had found lots of interesting items, and every time he turned to show them to Luo Binghe, he realised he was either alone or in the company of someone else. His discontentment was probably obvious, if the furrowed expression in Liu Qingge’s face had been anything to go by.)

He took off his outer robe, untied his hair, let his body ease in the calmness of the descending night, breathing in the silence and forcing his body to sit on the bed and pick up the hairbrush he left on the bedside table that morning.

Let his mind drift, to the previous night and those before it since he arrived there, and how odd the feeling that had pervaded him from that moment on was, like the impending silence waiting him once he found himself alone in that same room was far from being comforting and relaxing.

Maybe, he merely wasn’t accustomed to it anymore, with what living together with Luo Binghe had done to his humble routine. Maybe, he had started seeing his apprentice’s presence as part of his daily life at a far deeper level than he thought.

Or maybe, it was much simpler than that.

A hand brushed the object between his fingers away from his hold, and all his senses snapped in him like a bungee cord.

Shen Qingqiu tensed and his hand flew to his waist, only to remember that he didn’t have his fan when he came back -he probably displaced it somewhere at dinner, half sure Liu Qingge would eventually find it and give it back.

So he prepared to attack with his spiritual energy, but than the person in the room speak, and an intense wave of relaxation washed over him, taking him totally by surprise.

“Shizun.”

“…Binghe.”

It took him a while to formulate a reply, with his heart in his throat for the scare and his limbs trembling for the sudden rush of adrenaline.

That apprentice was crazy!! Demon Lord or not, you can’t sneak up your master’s back like this!! Do you want to have him killed?! Do you even know how to perform CPR?!?

He settled for something more intelligible while calming his racing heart. How could he not sense his presence in the room? When did Luo Binghe become so good at stealth operations?!

“What are you doing here?!”

There was a smile on Binghe’s face -Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see it, his back at him while he brushed his hair, treading his fingers between the locks a couple of times, but he could somehow feel it, especially when he opened his mouth.

“This disciple couldn’t handle solitude. He missed his Sizhun too much.”

Shen Qingqiu ignored how something constricted in his chest -how the longing in Binghe’s tone seemed to mirror that bitter feeling he had been fighting off for days. Instead, he sighed and turned, lifting his chin a bit to look at his apprentice, kneeling on his bed with placid demeanor, as if he was restraining himself. He recognised the glint in his dark irises right away.

Shen Qingqiu swallowed.

“Did this disciple scare his Husband?” Luo Binghe added, apologetic, leaning toward him without diverting his gaze from Shen Qingqiu’s eyes and lowering it only when he was too bent forward to manage it. His intention became clear only when his lips pressed lightly on his shoulder, nuzzling it a couple of seconds before withdrawing and fixing his robe -Shen Qingqiu hadn’t noticed his sleeve had slipped down. The action -the intimacy that gesture spoke of- almost made him blush.

And what was with that sudden title?! When had Binghe turned into a smooth, tricky charmer?!

He breathed deeply, thinly observing him, gradually aware of his tense posture, the way his hands tightened on his knees with Shen Qingqiu’s gaze carefully settled on him. He sighed again, fully knowing what the reason behind the impatient gleam in Luo Binghe’s wide eyes was. Could he even reject such a puppy face? He didn’t have his fan to help him dodge the upcoming attacks, so it was much more clever to store energy for when he will really need it.

(Binghe had really made him shameless, making him use the lack of a weapon as an excuse to cave in, for once, and reaching for his disciple’s face it almost looked like he was admitting that he had dearly missed this, too. Missed him.)

Shen Qingqiu patted his head, allowing himself to smile sublty when the young man closed his eyes and relaxed under his touch, trembling. He turned fully, placing himself on the bed in front of him, and every hunch on nervousness he had ever felt in moments like this assaulted him when a hand reached for his, trapping it against a cheek when Luo Binghe’s eyelids lifted again.

None of them spoke a word, and Shen Qingqiu gripped his disciple’s shoulder when Luo Binghe came for him, an arm sneaking around his waist as his lips reduced the space between them.

He kissed him like years had passed since the last time and his lips parted in response without excessive coaxing, a trilling news Luo Binghe welcomed with a moan. He pulled him in the same instant Shen Qingqiu pressed forward, legs caging the Demon Lord’s hips and breath stuck in his throat at the craved proximity.

Binghe’s fingers intertwined with his hair, forcing his head down, the palm of his other hand slipping under the robe and tracing every patch of skin he could find, possessively groping his back and waist as Shen Qingqiu quivered, overwhelmed, clinging to him and reluctantly giving in to his own body’s demand.

He unfastened the string that kept Binghe’s hair up, letting it fall untidily, scraping his nape in circular movements to dispel the remaining tension and drawing another groan from his apprentice, his hips snapping up in reflex and making Shen Qingqiu break of the kiss, hissing in pleasure at the friction. He panted, ashamed, forehead resting on Luo Binghe’s.

“Shizun’s body missed me too, this disciple is incredibly glad” he mused, murmuring against his lips and leaning forward to playfully bite one of them, distracting him.

Gleeful disciple, Shen Qingqiu wanted to smack the edge of his fan on his head once more, but he had to resort to his hands, ready to protest and ultimately gripping his shoulders again as Binghe’s palm brushed downward to tease his cock, hidden behind his slacks. He moaned in his ear, back arching, his body a shuddering net of burning nerves in his disciple’s hands.

Traitor! Was a bit of abstinence from sex all it took to reduce his body like this?! He felt betrayed, insulted, deceived!! Why didn’t the System place him somewhere easier to reason with?!

“Did Shizun? Did my Husband miss this foolish disciple, too?”

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t beat around the bush with Luo Binghe’s palms on him like that, pushing on all the right buttons and clashing their hips together to elicit whimper after whimper from him.

Binghe was losing his cool, Shizun’s reactions too good, too lovely and intoxicating for him to not do something about it. He almost had him under him, pressed on the mattress, when someone knocked at the door.

Both of them froze, their labored breathe the only thing causing noises in the room, aside from the occasional knocking and voice accompanying them.

“Shen Qingqiu? Are you awake?”

Luo Binghe’s hands fisted, arms closing around a vulnerable Shizun.

“Why is he here? It’s late. Why would he come to your room?” he hastily whispered, barely remaining calm enough not to shout at the door. Shen Qingqiu pulled away from him, moving backward to recover more quickly.

Shit. Okay, Liu Qinge was outside his room and Luo Binghe seemed ready to rip his head off, judging from the way he kept eyeing the direction where the other Peak Lord could come from at any given moment. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene, perfectly knowing how it was living with those two emitting testosterone whenever they were in the same place. Moreover, Luo Binghe he, the Demon Lord, should be here!

“Hide” he managed to say under his breath, not looking in his direction to not gauge his current appearance. “Hide and don’t come out until he is gone.”

“No! I’m not leaving Shizun alone with him in the middle of the night! What if he touches Shizun-”

Another knock. Liu Qingge probably heard noises.

“Shen Qingqiu?”

“He won’t” he replied quickly, getting off of the bed and fixing his inner robe while for something to put on. “Now do as I say!” he hastened him, slipping into his outer robe before turning and promptly walking toward Luo Binghe, all the while saying out loud: “I’m awake! Let me put something on” in the general direction of the door.

“If he-”

“He won’t” Shen Qingqiu assured him again, pushing him under the bed and ordering him to stay quiet. Luo Binghe begrudgingly obeyed, frowning.

Shen Qingqiu straightened his clothes, breathing deeply and trying to dissipate the remaining fog caused by his and Binghe’s… previous activity. He ventured to the door, unceremoniously opening it and revealing his fellow Peak Lord’s garbled expression. He smiled apologetically to him, moving aside to invite him in, glancing nervously at his bed.

“What is Junior Brother doing here this late in the evening? Something happened?”

Liu Qingge looked around, frown deepening, before his eyes settled on the one who welcomed him. His lips thinned.

Shen Qingqiu had surely tried to make himself presentable, but when Liu Qingge came in, he had felt the strong impulse to look elsewhere. Bitten, plump, shiny lips and disarrayed hair and robe told him all he needed to know -the malevolent, familiar energy he had felt and its closeness to Shen Qingqiu finding its righteous cause at last.

Luo Binghe was there, no doubt. But where did he go? Did he hide? Liu Qingge found the situation ridiculous, as if he didn’t know what kind of relationship they had. They had never made a secret of it when it started, so why all this discretion now?

“Where you sleeping?”

“Almost” Shen Qingqiu swiftly retorted, hands hiding in his sleeves.

“You left your fan on the table while we were dining” he explained. A sound disturbed the quietness of the room and Shen Qingqiu coughed, hand flying up to cover his mouth, apologising with a half bow.

“Ah, that’s right, I noticed it before going to sleep, I’m sorry it inconvenienced Junior Brother to the point of coming here instead of resting in his room.”

But Liu Qingge, the almost burberous, chivalry Lord of Bai Zhan Peak, waved him off, telling him with that gesture he needn’t worry.

“It’s not a problem. You always lose it and we never know when it’ll come in handy, you should be more careful with your possessions” he admonished, eyebrow flying upward when the same sound from before followed.

“Yes, Junior Brother is completely right, this Lord is too forgetful! Thankfully Junior Brother always manages to help and return whatever possession of this Lord he finds” he commented rapidly, trying to keep his attention on him.

“Don’t count on it as if it’s something you’re giving for granted!” he protested, shaking his head immediately after when he didn’t even succeed in sounding truly irritated.

A hiss.

Liu Qingge handed him the fan.

“This Lord promises to be more careful” Shen Qingqiu reassured him, taking the object and tilting his head to the side to smile contrivedly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other continuously. Suddenly, Liu Qingge noticed a strange, colored item caught in his hair, something that looked like a feather, and he acted on impulse.

“You have something in your hair-”

“Uh? Where?”

“Here” he said, pointing at the red feather with his finger, but Shen Qinqiu kept missing the spot, so he intervened.

“Wait, let me-”

Like a hurricane, a shadow barged on them, wrapping Shen Qingqiu in protective arms and sneering menacingly at the intruder.

“Hands off! Don’t touch Shizun!” he roared, tightening his hold, fingers shielding Shen Qingqiu’s head and pinning it under his chin, eyes burning in anger and tempted to incinerate Liu Qingge’s raised arm.

He dropped it.

Shen Qingqiu hit his own forehead with an open palm, mumbling at Luo Binghe and to himself: “You’re an idiot. I married an idiot.”

Luo Binghe’s rage quelled, and the blush on his cheeks spoke of something entirely different.

“What did Shizun said?”

“That you’re an idiot! I told you to not come out!”

“No, after that! What did Shizun do to that idiot?” he persisted, eyes glinting again, holding Shen Qingqiu flush to his chest, and the Peak Lord’s frustration and embarrassment was so evident, irises ashamedly eyeing him and pleading him to do something or go away, that Liu Qingge cringed for him.

“I’m out of here” he just retorted, not wanting to witness anything his eyes weren’t ready for. He left the couple alone, returning to the room next to Shen Qingqiu’s and hoping the walls were thick enough to spare his ears.

#anon #memes #sv meme #bingqiu #ask #150 drabble challenge meme #my sv writing #the scum villain’s self saving system #scum villian #scum villain's self saving system #liu qingge #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #sv novel #my writing