Title: Erode All My Edges Author: Smashthatlikebutton Rating: Teen Wordcount: 12900 Pairing: Kim Namjoon/min

By The Moon; COMPLETED

(pls ignore time stamps)

disclaimer: spelling and grammar mistakes are included. ♡

↳ warnings: swear words

namjoon x reader au; soulmate!au

In a world where two souls are bonded for life, your soul tattoo or mark appears once you lock eyes with your soulmate. Y/n, was born with hers. She’s not really curious as to why though, so she just lets it be. She was too busy causing trouble and living her best life with her best friends anyways. It’s her last year of high school and she’s determined to to make the very best of it. No worries, no drama, just having fun. But what happens when she locks eyes with this nerdy looking kid who transferred at the start of senior year? She finds herself with a burning tattoo and bond she not even sure she’s ready for. Who was this kid? how does he know her friends? what’s in his past that he can’t seem to get over? and most importantly, what the fuck does the moon have to do with all of this?

prologue

1 - head game strong

2 - problems???

3 - R A V E N

4 - selfish

5 - 25 to life

6 - i would kill for you

7 - purple

8 - one step at a time

9 - reality check

10 - civil

11 - on my soulmate bond

12 - i’m struggling here fellas

13 - namjooning

14 - art

15 - missed you

16 - i’ve disappointed myself

17 - it’s the bunny smile

18 - shit show

19 - that’s rough buddy

20 - careful

21 - skank waffles

22 - i fucked up

23 - confused and stupid

24 - exquisite if you will

25 - i’ll kill her

26 - what if?

27 - food coma

28 - so did you

29 - ooop there it is

30 - for a long time

31 - baby

32 - i hope you stay

33 - hands of a goddess

34 - make me choose

35 - exhausted

36 - hook, line, and sinker

37 - don’t act

38 - that’s what i thought

39 - now why tf

40 - i lost

41 - void

42 - her over me

43 - i don’t care

44 - i love her

45 - thank FUCK

46 - moon souls

47 - whether you love him

48 - i’m an idiot

49 - kookie wookie

50 - you think it’s fun?

51 - the project part 1

52 - the project part 2

53 - toe licker

54 - hell yeah he is

55 - By The Moon, The end.

epilogue

                      ❪  💜  MASTERLIST :  ❫  not your fairytale

What do you do when you’ve called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings? Why, you ask your brother’s grouchy best friend, of course.

pairing.  myg x f!reader.

genre + rating.  non-idol!au.  pretty angsty with some warm and fuzzy fluff thrown in.  general.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, cake tasting, cake tasting isn’t a euphemism, hurt, comfort, friendship, friendship/love, childhood friends, best friend’s sister. 

wc.  8.9k.  complete.

author note.  n/a.

chapter 01

chapter 02  

chapter 03

title: we’ll just glide / starry-eyed author: smashthatlikebutton rating: teen wordcount: 36144 pairing: kim namjoon/min yoongi summary:

Namjoon meets Yoongi and his young son Jeongguk on a place home to Seoul. Chaos ensues.

or

The one where Namjoon pretends to be a dad and is actually pretty good at it.

link

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

SPLIT LIP

HARRY OSBORN X READER

Summary - Harry gets into a fight and emotions start to unfold.

Warnings - 18+, angst, lil fluff, smut, blood, unprotected sex

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

HE KEPT his head low as he weaved through the bustling crowd, ignoring the low gasps that slipped from the lips of those who somehow managed to catch a glimpse of his face. 

None of them knew what happened, not yet at least, but he figured it wouldn’t be long before it spread around. There had been at least a dozen people out on the balcony when it all started, and given his social status it wasn’t exactly presumptuous to assume that most of them had likely recorded the encounter. 

It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if he woke up tomorrow with a bunch of angry voicemails from his publicist, likely accompanied by screenshots of people making fun of him on Instagram for getting his ass handed to him by some random no name guy. 

But it hadn’t been some random no name. 

Not to Harry, at least. 

He hadn’t been aware that he was holding his breath until he finally reached the private salvation of his bedroom, his needy lungs leaving him gasping for air as he crossed the threshold, roughly swinging the door shut behind him. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him when it refused to close, and it certainly shouldn’t have surprised him when he turned to see your hand pressed flat against the pine, holding it open. 

But it did. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Osborn?” 

Harry figured the use of his last name wasn’t a good sign and it left a particularly sour taste in his mouth (though perhaps that was just the blood he was tasting). He hadn’t realized how accustomed he had become to the cute little pet names you used for him until now, or just how much the absence of them would affect him. 

Of course he didn’t let that show though. Instead, he grumbled out a rough, “Stop following me,” before continuing to trudge towards the private bathroom. 

But you had grown familiar with his evasive behavior, gotten used to his lack of vulnerability, and you rarely ever let him achieve the goal that stood behind his aloof persona; to drive you away. 

So you marched right behind him, mimicking his past action by pushing the door shut as you moved. This time it met no resistance, immediately clicking shut. 

There was no one else coming to check on him. 

“Do you have any clue how stupid that was?” 

You felt like you could barely breathe as your heart rammed against your ribcage, the sound of blood rushing loudly thrumming in your ears and making it difficult to focus. Your reaction wasn’t fueled by anger, though, rather an innate fear that consumed you as soon as Peter’s fist first collided with Harry’s face.

“Apologies, darling, but I’m already gonna get an earful from the board tomorrow about how this will affect my image as CEO, alright?” He pressed his palms against the cool marble countertop and spat into the sink. You watched as the blood-tinged spit crept towards the drain as he added on, “So, please, spare me the lecture.” 

The polite phrase was laced with contempt, effectively removing any trace of its inborn goodwill. But that wasn’t what had caught your attention. 

A dry chuckle ripped through you, and if he had bothered to lift his head up then he would’ve seen your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Do you really think I give a shit about your image?” 

Your jaw remained slack as disbelief washed over you, leaving your head shaking. Harry Osborn was one of the most intelligent men you’d ever met, yet it never failed to amaze you just how dense he could be. 

Harry’s shoulders sank a little, failing to go unnoticed by you. His lip curled, a pang of nausea coming over him. He couldn’t tell if it was caused by his injuries or from the unfamiliarity of sharing even a shred of his emotions, his voice breaking slightly as he said, “What else is there?” 

“Your face?!” You cried out without hesitation. It didn’t bother you that Harry still assumed you had any regard for his status, you expected that much. But it did bother you that he didn’t think there was anything else about himself worth caring about. 

Still, even your well-intentioned statement sent another wave of panic rippling throughout him, his fingers gripping the marble even harder now. 

You hadn’t meant it in a shallow sort of way, even he knew that much, but it frightened him anyway. Harry already felt like he was losing his grip on everything that made him important—that made him worthy of love. 

He was losing his grip on all of it; his money, his status, his career. But now he found himself staring down at the scaly patch of skin accompanying his now-bruising knuckles, beginning to realize that as his disease progressed he would be losing something else too. 

What would be left of him? It was an ignorant thought, one that he knew had been fueled by his fight with Peter, but he couldn’t help but wonder anyways. What would be left for you to love when once he could no longer rely on his riches, his rank, or his allure? He knew that you weren’t shallow enough to actually care about those things, yet it still made him feel sick to his stomach. 

That’s all he had ever been to anyone. A symbol, a prize, an image. He had never really felt like a person before, at least not one that people cared about. After all, no one had ever treated him like one—not his friends at boarding school, not the women who chased him, not even his own father. 

Sometimes he worried that maybe there had been a reason for it. Maybe they had taken the time to peer beneath the surface, only to discover that they didn’t like what they saw. Maybe, just maybe, there truly wasn’t anything good about him aside from what he could offer others. 

You almost seemed to read his mind, your demeanor softening as you watched him lean further into the counter, his mind reeling as he absently stared at the drops of blood dripping from his nose spattering into the sink. 

“You know what Peter said isn’t true, right?" You took a half-step towards him, slowly closing the few feet that stood between you. You kept your voice low and soft, careful not to sound patronizing. 

Harry only scoffed, moving his hand from the counter to his face. He didn’t want you to see it, whatever traces of the fist fight had been left. He hadn’t even seen it himself yet, refusing to look into the mirror. 

“I’m serious, Harr.” You cooed, now close enough to place a hand against his back. He stiffened at the touch—comfort still something that was entirely foreign to him, but the pet name still soothed some of the ache in his chest. “He was just pissed, okay? So he took a few cheap shots cause he knew they’d hurt you. But that doesn’t make them true.” 

They were the truth though, weren’t they? 

Peter wasn’t the first one to call him out. There had been a long line of women and men alike that had spewed the same insults at him, making note of his arrogant persona and the silver spoon that hung from his lips. 

But he had been the first one that had been close enough to Harry to know what insecurities to prey on in order to cut him deep. He knew about Harry’s fear of failure, the loneliness that ate at him, the crippling self-loathing that never went away. 

More than that, he knew just how terrified Harry was of you seeing him the way he saw himself. And Peter knew that in an entirely selfish and fucked up way, Harry was scared absolutely shitless that you would realize that you deserved so much better than him—that you deserved someone like Peter. 

“Harry-” Your hand drifted from his back to his shoulder, gently grabbing it and intending to turn him towards you, to force him to look at you. 

But he refused to move. His entire attitude turned on a dime, posture straightening, though his head remained low and turned opposite of you, interrupting you with a tone sharp enough that could cut glass. “This isn’t working out.” 

Your eyes widened as his words registered with you, but you didn’t move aside from that, willing your body not to react. He didn’t really mean it, although that didn’t make it any easier to hear. You knew that he was spiraling, and any attempt to disagree with him would just add fuel to an already growing fire. 

So you didn’t disagree with him. Instead you crossed your arms firmly over your chest and gave a curt nod, smacking your lips as you said, “Okay.” 

Harry wasn’t sure if he had expected that response from you, but he did expect you to leave. He couldn’t quite imagine the hurt that would come with watching you walk out the door, though he knew it would likely be insurmountable. There was also a hint of satisfaction, though, as he recognized that you too would leave him. 

Everyone left eventually, he figured, and so maybe it was best to just get it out of the way now. Maybe it was best that he stopped wasting your time, that he didn’t force you to sit around and squander your life away on a dying man. 

But you didn’t leave, shocking him as you dropped to your knees beside him, beginning to rummage through a cabinet for the first aid kit you knew was hiding somewhere within it. 

When you once again rose to your feet, first aid kit in hand, you grabbed a clean cloth from the linen closet before once again coming to stand directly beside him. You didn’t have to try and forcibly move him this time, finding no need in urging him to look at you for the first time since this conversation had started. 

He did it on his own, forgetting about his desire to shield the evidence of the fight from you as he was overwhelmed with a mixture of both confusion and relief. 

You weren’t leaving, you hadn’t turned to walk out the door, you weren’t going to do something stupid like chase after Peter—though Harry wondered if it was really all that stupid, as he doubted that Peter would ever act in such a self-sabotaging way. You were just standing there, running warm water onto the cloth with a bit of soap. 

Why didn’t you leave? 

You frowned as you turned the tap off, turning to look at him and cocking your head to the side. “Guess he’s not puny Parker anymore,” you hummed sarcastically, hoping to use humor to avoid having a more dramatic reaction. 

The nickname certainly didn’t fit anymore, as Peter had clearly developed a hell of a right hook sometime after puberty. Blood still oozed from Harry’s nose, and a bit from his busted lip as well, but it was thicker now than before, finally starting to slow down. 

Lightly pressing the cloth to his upper lip you began to slowly clean him up, careful not to apply too much pressure. He was gonna bruise, that much was obvious, and you knew that he had been right before. The board would give him hell for this. 

“So what was it?” You asked as plainly as possible. 

Harry squinted at you. “What are you talking about?” 

“You threw the first punch.” You clarified. He flinched when you started to dab around his split lip, and so you tried to make your touch lighter. “So what was it that pushed you over the edge?” 

He hesitated, sucking in a breath before mumbling something incoherent. Frowning, you lightly nudged against his leg with your foot. “Gotta be a little louder than that.” You teased him. 

For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw his mouth twitch into a slight smile, his eyes rolling slightly. It made you smile, too. 

“You know how Peter is,” Harry eventually spoke after another long pause, finally sounding a bit more like himself in spite of the animosity he held towards Pete. “he’s never known when to shut his mouth.” 

It was more than he had spoken this whole time, but he still knew from the expectant way you were staring at him that it hadn’t quite been enough to satisfy you. He was holding back and you both knew it. 

He sighed. “He was talking about you. Apparently Parker’s incapable of letting go of what could’ve been.” 

You couldn’t help but grin at the way he sneered, although you knew it was probably wrong to indulge in him making fun of your friend. To be fair, Peter deserved it sometimes, tonight being a prime example of that. 

There might’ve been a time in which you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to be with Peter, but that ship had long since sailed, whether Peter liked it or not. If anything, you were thankful that things hadn’t worked out between the two of you, because now you couldn’t imagine a world in which you were with anyone other than Harry. 

“Pete’s always been a bit delusional.” You tried to suppress your laugh, still focused on cleaning Harry up. Somewhat satisfied with the amount of blood you’d cleaned from his pale skin, you sat the cloth down on the counter and reached for the first aid kid. 

Another brief moment of silence settled over you both as Harry battled with himself again, debating letting another moment of vulnerability slip out. You didn’t dare say anything, allowing him time to process his thoughts as you grabbed a stack of gauze from the kit. 

His tongue carefully traced over his bottom lip, his face screwing up as the subtle movement agitated the wound on it, the taste of copper overwhelming his senses. “Is he?” 

Those two little words were all he was willing to share, but they told you more than enough, guiding you towards the type of comfort he needed right now. 

You nodded, folding a piece of gauze over onto itself, your gaze fixating on the shiny spot of red dripping from his lip. You pressed the gauze against it, applying some pressure. “I think so.” You told him. “I couldn’t imagine being with someone like Peter.” 

Harry’s brows snapped together at the claim, clearly unwilling to believe it. “Oh, you mean someone kind and caring and who literally has an IQ of two-fucking-fifty?” 

It was your turn to react, donning a much more lighthearted expression than his as you struggled to contain your amusement at the sight of his cerulean eyes growing so wide. “Do you want to date Peter, Har?” 

He practically growled at your joke, and admittedly the sound affected you far more than it should’ve. Your cheeks developed a slight red-tinge, trying to regain your focus on his wounds as you moved to replace the gauze you were holding. 

“No,” he spoke roughly, “I’m just trying to say that he’s exactly the type of guy you should want to be with.” 

Your nose wrinkled, making it clear that you disagreed with his statement. You halted your previous movements, leaving the gauze where it laid on the counter and offering your hand to him. He only stared at it. “Come sit down with me.” you urged, moving it a little closer to his. When he didn’t move again, you tacked on a desperate, “Please.” 

Harry had never been good at denying you when you used that voice with him, his heart and brain simultaneously turning to mush whenever you’d flash your best puppy dog eyes. 

So he obliged, careful to give you his left hand instead of his right. The one that hadn’t been affected by his disease just yet. 

You led him out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom, stopping only when you reached the king sized bed that laid in the middle of the room, making him sit down on it beside you before you were willing to pick your conversation back up. 

“Do you really think Peter is the type of guy I should be with?” 

It pained you to even consider that Harry truly thought such a thing. For it to be a thought fueled by insecurity would be one thing, but for it to be a God’s honest belief of his would be something else entirely. 

He didn’t answer you, only focusing his attention on your hand as it remained wrapped around his. You knew the answer, though, even if you wished you didn’t. 

“Okay,” you breathed out, “then let’s talk about a world where I’m with Peter instead of you, okay?” 

Harry scowled. “I’d rather not.” 

“Too bad.” You shot back, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re right,” you admitted despite knowing the statement would make him squirm uncomfortably beside you, “Peter is all of those things you mentioned.” 

“Great.” Harry grumbled through his teeth, cursing when you then elbowed him in the side for interrupting you. 

“But Peter has faults too, Harr. Big ones.” You breathed out a weak laugh. Slowly you tried to piece together your thoughts, carefully choosing your words so they couldn’t be misconstrued by his trauma-ridden mind. 

“I don’t like the way Peter makes me feel.” Your tone was cautious, sounding out each syllable with great care. 

Harry didn’t bother to look up at you, fixating on the sight of your fingers interlaced with his, but you knew he was listening. He always listened to you. 

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my friend and I care about him. But… he treats me like I’m fragile. Like I’m something he needs to save.” You shifted slightly, suddenly feeling a little exposed. But you didn’t let yourself stop, not yet. “I never feel like a person with Peter. Not really, at least.” Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He knew what that was like, though he’s never shared it with you before. “He doesn’t actually see me.” 

The admission hung in the air between you for a moment before Harry replied, his voice wavering as he said, “Do I?” You furrowed your brows at him and so he clarified, “Do I make you feel… I don’t know, seen or whatever…” 

It was odd to hear Harry speak in such a casual manner, to see the ways in which he tried to come across as dismissive while still working on bearing his emotions to you. You put a great deal of effort into not smiling at it, not wanting your innocent amusement to create any additional insecurity for him. 

“Always.” You answered swiftly, lovingly brushing your thumb against the back of his hand. “That’s why I’m with you, Harry.” 

His eyes grew glossy, his head immediately dipping down as the tears threatened to spillover. Emotions had always felt like a weakness to him. 

But you had grown tired of letting him hide himself away from you tonight. You pried your hand from his, crawling over so you were no longer sitting beside him, your knees pressed into the mattress as your legs settled on either side of him as you sat in his lap. 

Tender hands reached to cup his cheeks, collecting the tears that had gathered on them as you gently forced him to look at you once again. At first he tried to fight it, but he soon realized there was no use. He let himself succumb to the comforting nature of your touch, instinctively nuzzling into your hand. 

“I’m with you because I love you, Harr.” You hadn’t said those words before, and you refused to look away as you repeated yourself, “I love you. Not your money or Oscorp or anything other than you, okay?” He blinked, more tears escaping as he did, but he didn’t respond. So you repeated yourself again, needing to hear his confirmation, to know that he understood. “You know that, don’t you?” 

He truly wanted to believe you, to have absolutely no doubts. But the dark thoughts crept in, filling every corner of his mind. The words of his friends, of past lovers, of his father. 

His lip trembled. “But there’s nothing to love.’ 

You cringed as you felt the weight of that word—love. You’d dreamt of hearing him say it, and you knew that he felt it for you, but you had never imagined it sounding like that. 

He said it like it was contaminated, like it was something to fear. 

It broke your heart and stunned you at the same time, your mouth left agape as you fell speechless. You weren’t certain of what to say, of what to do to soothe him. You’d always known that Harry had been broken by his past, but this was perhaps the first time that you’d realized how extensive the damage truly was. 

His name escaped your mouth, the only thought crossing your mind as you threw your arms around his neck and collapsed against him, nearly sending him tumbling back onto the mattress at the sudden weight. But he braced himself, his own hands moving to your back as he leaned forwards, instinctively balancing out your actions and keeping you both upright. 

“There’s so much, Harr.” Your lips were pressed against his ear as you whispered, so desperate for him to hear you. The ache in your own chest grew stronger at the thought of him ever doubting your feelings for him, even for a second. “There are so many things to love about you!” 

His body was unmoving against yours as you squeezed him even tighter, turning the tables and fighting against your own emotions now. You held in a sob, wanting your words to be as clear as possible, “You deserve love, Harry Osborn.” 

And, for the first time, something inside of him snapped into place. He hadn’t forced you to be here. He hadn’t even asked you to waste your life on a dying man. If anything, he had pushed you away. He had practically begged you to leave on more than one occasion. 

But you never did. 

You wanted to be here. Not because of what you might gain from him or for what he could offer, but simply because you cared for him. You wanted to take care of him, to clean his wounds and call him out on his bullshit. 

He bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood and you gasped as he suddenly mimicked your actions, his arms tightening around you as he buried his face against your neck.  

“I love you, y/n.” 

The word didn’t sound as harsh this time, as if he had begun to untangle the fear that had others have woven around it. It was light. Genuine. 

“I’m bad at showing it—trust me, I know—but I really, really do.” 

He let his walls down, forcing himself to swallow his pride right alongside his anxiety. He knew that he didn’t need to put on an act with you, that he didn’t need to cherry pick his words to ensure they wouldn’t be twisted in some malicious way. 

With you, he didn’t need to be an Osborn, cruel and calculated. 

He could just be Harry. 

“I don’t understand it,” he admitted,”but it’s just–I don’t know, I just look at you and I love you so much. I see you and I know that there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, absolutely nothing. And you’re just so…” a particularly hard laugh vibrated against your skin, “crazy. Crazy to ever give a shit about someone like me.” 

You laughed too. “And you’re an idiot,” you leaned back slightly, sliding a palm in between your bodies to try and push him back a touch, wanting to look at him, “for ever thinking that I’d give a shit about anyone else.’ 

And as soon as the sentence had left your lips, your eyes drifted to his and seeing the way they gleamed with a glorious mix of both love and lust, it was over. 

Your lips collided with his, so fast that it was impossible to tell which of you had started to lean in first. There wasn’t much about it that was gentle, though, despite the innocent admissions that had led to this moment. 

With your palms still pressed to his chest you shoved him back against the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your combined weight. Your lips never parted as you laid against him, the two of you locked into an endless hungry kiss that melded into another and another. 

One of his hands slides from your waist to your stomach, fingertips delicately tracing your skin, and you felt as if you were on fire everywhere he touched. A soft moan slipped from your mouth and into his, only serving to encourage him further as he started to toy with the button on your jeans. 

Your head was spinning by the time he finally pulled away from you, already leaving a wet trail of kisses against your jawline as you gasped for a breath. There was a faint taste of blood in your mouth, a sign that you’d agitated the wound on his lip, but neither of you cared. 

It was all you could do to focus on his movements, edging towards your neck, his teeth lightly grazing against your pulse and eliciting a lewd whine. You felt him smirk against your skin at the sound, a firm hand pressing into your waist as he jutted his hips against yours, the friction making him groan before he nipped at your skin again. 

“I love you,” he breathed out against your collar bone, his tongue delicately tracing against the sensitive spot, “so much.” 

Your own breathing was uneven, entirely uncontrolled as you’d already turned into a writhing mess of moans, your only coherent thoughts fueled by your desire to feel him. 

You pulled away from his assault on your throat, and you nearly melted when he looked up at you; darkened eyes pooling with desire, his lips gleaming with a mix of both of your saliva and a bit of blood. 

As your gaze drifted south you realized that one thing was clear: he needed to be wearing far less clothing. 

There was no hesitation in tugging at the hem of his shirt, urging him to help you remove it. Harry had already unbuttoned your pants, unzipped them, too, and so you quickly shimmied out of them and tossed your own shirt to the side as he worked on his own pants. 

You moved to sit on top of him again but he stopped you, changing positions and forcing you to lay back against the mattress, hovering over you. He looked down at your body, admiring it, his index finger tracing along the curve of your waist, your back arching slightly as he moved towards your thigh. 

“Needy,” he chastised with a low chuckle, but didn’t hesitate as he began to shift himself lower on the bed, clearly intending on first using his mouth to get you off. You stopped him, though, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He paused, following your gaze as it settled just below his waist. You licked your lips, voice low as you barely managed to get out, “Please.” 

Foreplay felt unnecessary right now, maybe even a touch cruel. You didn’t wanna waste time on it, desperate to have him closer. 

Luckily, Harry was never one to deny you what you wanted, already guiding himself towards your entrance, his swollen tip pressing against you before—

There was a fucking knock on the door. 

Your head jolted up from the mattress, both of your necks snapping in the direction of the sound, Harry’s dick still in his hand as you both froze. 

“Hey Harry,” you nearly groaned, letting your head fall back against the mattress as you heard Peter’s muffled voice through the door. “I just figured we should talk, alright? I wanted to check on you. And apologize, ya know?” 

You looked at Harry, his gaze meeting yours. It took every ounce of willpower you had to keep your hips still, your body desperately wanting to grind against him. “Tell him to leave!” You hissed, trying to stay quiet. 

Peter knocked again. “Harry?” 

You expected Harry to say something dismissive towards Peter, watching as his mouth fell open to speak. But no sound ever came, his blue eyes suddenly twinkling with something strikingly similar to ill intent. 

Then, before you’d had time to even unravel his plan he had already roughly sheathed himself fully inside of you, fingernails digging into your hips as a guttural moan fell from your lips, loud enough that Peter surely heard it. 

He leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear as he said–“I think he’ll get the message.”

a/n - something quick and lazy that i wrote at school cause why not. not even sure i like it that much but the harry osborn tag needs more content so i figured i might as well post it lmao.

not being romantic

Jess Mariano may be cute, possibly charming, but he is most definitely annoying. He certainly can’t hold a candle to your secret pen pal who’s smart, loves books, and aspires to be an author. Or can he?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, mostly fluff, some angst, cursing, suggestiveness. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | 3.3k words

The cafe buzzed with the rush of customers lined up for their afternoon caffeine fix. Coffee machines droned on churning coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows and the smell of baked goods wafted through the air.

You smirked at Jess Mariano before you called the customer to hand them their drink. You proceeded to add another point to your scoreboard, waving your arm for emphasis. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics and hurried up, adding whipped cream to the drink he was preparing. 

Everything was always a game with him. Who could get the highest amount of tips? Who could guess the new customer's coffee order? Who could make the most convincing foreign accent?

Today’s game was: who could make the fastest coffee order?

“You’ve gotten better,” he observed as you grabbed a cup for the next customer. “Aren’t you glad to have had an incredible instructor like me?”

You scoffed, “more like an incredible loser if you don’t hurry up with that order. Just because you taught me, doesn’t mean I’d go easy on you, Mariano,” you taunt, narrowing your eyes for emphasis.

He shook his head with a smile, “I expected nothing less from you.” He made his way to the other end of the counter to call the customer and handed them their drink.  

Another busy shift flew by and before you knew it, it was time to close down the cafe.

You grabbed the scoreboard, beaming with pride. “I won! You can now call me the Queen of Speed, Barista Extraordinaire. Bow down before your queen.”

Jess looked up from where he was wiping the counter with a flat expression. “I’ll call you the Queen of Clean if you help me with these last few tables?”

You frowned at him and stuck your tongue out, of course he had a whole arsenal of retorts with him at any given moment. You grabbed the towel and disinfectant spray from behind the counter and moved to wipe down the tables. “You’re no fun, but I’ll let it slide since you now owe me a favor.”

“As long as I don’t have to help you dispose of a body then it’s fine,” he replied, eyebrow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, “if I ever need to dispose a body, it would probably be yours.”

“Are you confessing to something you’ll commit? I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you sighed, pinching your nose. The conversation was getting more and more off topic by the second. “You, however, will be the dea*h of me.”

“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” he nodded as he set aside the towel and grabbed the key, ready to close for the evening. Of course that wasn't the first time that line was directed at him.

“You’re just trying to avoid what you owe me. Stop deflecting, Mariano,” you accused, heading towards him to return the cleaning materials. “I need your help with my toaster, it stopped working and I can’t afford to get it fixed or replaced. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course, anything for the Queen of Speed,” he replied.

“You forgot Barista Extraordinaire,” you added helpfully.

Jess just shook his head as if to say, I can’t win with you. He fought the smile that threatened to break across his features. Perhaps you too had your own arsenal of comebacks.

With the final turn of the key, the door swung in and you and Jess headed into your tiny apartment. It was a studio that’s three steps away from the kitchen, five steps away from the bathroom, and ten steps away from the bed. You liked to keep it simple, minimalistic. It definitely had nothing to do with the cheap rent.

“Welcome to my apartment. It’s not much but it’s home,” you said, gesturing around the place.

“It’s cozy and it’s very you,” he remarked.

You folded your arms and stared at him, “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Let me see. Second hand furniture, potted plants around the area, and the artwork looks similar to your napkin doodles. Don’t think I didn’t notice them. It’s a mosaic of different things, but you managed to tie it all together and make it work. It’s just like you to make good out of a potentially bad situation,” he observed.

“Slow down there or you’ll end up hosting shows about house tours,” you teased. “And hey, I’ll take the compliment. Who knew Jess Mariano could be nice?”

He shrugged, “I just call it like I see it.”

You took the three steps necessary to reach the kitchen. “Here’s the troublemaker, by the way. Not you, well, aside from you,” you amended and pointed to the toaster. “Not sure what’s wrong, it just stopped working.”  

He approached you and it struck you just how small the kitchen was, certainly not big enough for two. When you turned to speak to him, all the words left your mind as you realized you’re only inches away from him. Heat crept up your cheeks and you blinked.

Jess smirked at your reaction, keenly aware of the effect he had to you. That cocky bastard. He leaned in a bit closer and your breath hitched. “You know, if you just wanted me over at your place, there’s a lot of other fun things I can help you with.” You scrunched your nose and took a step back, immediately transported to the area you considered your bedroom. “If that’s your way of confessing your feelings for me, it’s not very romantic at all. Thought you’d have more game than that, Mariano,” you hedged.

“Oh, that’s because I’m not trying to be romantic. If I were trying....” he said, taking a step forward, closing the distance you tried to place between you. He brushed the hair away from your cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender coming from Jess. You took in how soft his lips looked up close.

When he touched the side of your face, your attention returned to his soulful eyes. “...I’d do something like this,” he concluded, his breath against your lips like the ghost of a kiss. That’s all it took for him to steal the breath from your lungs.

You’re disoriented when cool air greets you again as he took a step back and the only trace left is the fading warmth from where his hand caressed your cheek. “But like I said, I’m not trying to be romantic,” he shrugged.

You cleared your throat, brushing off the lingering heat of the interaction. You ignored the pang of disappointment that hit you. Besides, someone else already had your heart, this was nothing but a silly little crush. “Well can you please try to fix my toaster?” you asked, trying to stay on topic as always.

“Sure, I have tools at home. I can take it with me and bring it back when I’m done.”

You nodded, “okay thank you. Let me just grab a bag you can carry it in.”

He scanned the room while you opened the cabinet to grab a reusable bag.

“Why do you have lots of mail?” He asked, thumbing through the pile of opened envelopes on your kitchen counter.

You mulled over the question, unsure how much you wanted to share with Jess Mariano and risk a round of his teasing. Then again, you could handle Jess. “Well, there’s this guy I really like. We send each other letters. If you really want to know what romantic is, Mariano, it’s hand written letters. No one bothers to write them anymore. There’s something sweet and sincere about it.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m not really sure. I got his first letter from the bookstore I frequent, the employee handed it to me and I asked him to hand back my reply. We just kept going from there, I think the mystery just adds to the romance.”

Jess shot you a worried look. “You mean to say, you’re corresponding with a complete stranger? For all you know he’s hiding his identity because he’s a stalker or a serial killer.”

“Please, he is not. He is smart, funny, and he’s writing a book. I just don’t feel like he’s that type of person.”

“You’re going off this based on your feelings? I don’t think that’s wise or safe.”

“Jess, it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, having had enough of him for the day. After handing him the bag with the broken toaster, you shoved him towards the door and out from your apartment, wishing him a good night.  

“That was quick,” you said as you headed out of the cafe and walked towards Jess’ apartment to retrieve your now functional toaster.

Jess shrugged, “it was no big deal, just had a few loose screws to reattach. Speaking of loose screws, how about that imaginary boyfriend of yours? Finally decide to reveal himself?” 

You sighed, Jess had been on your case the whole week since you told him about your mysterious crush. Needless to say, you regretted telling him about it. “No, but he hasn’t written to me recently,” you pondered. “He must be busy writing his book.”

“Or planning your untimely demise,” he retorts.

“Jess, I swear,” you grit your teeth, “I’ll be planning your untimely demise if you don’t drop it. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

“Well I’m trying to look out for a coworker, why does this have to be about me? But hey, I’ll drop it,” he relented. “Besides, I won today so you owe me a favor.”

You groaned, but don’t say anything further. He won fair and square, you were ready to accept your fate.

Jess continued, “My uncle sent some food last night and I have a lot more than I can finish myself. Help me with that before you leave with your toaster?”

“Jess Mariano,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “are you asking me out for dinner?”   

“No,” he quickly said and then caught himself. “We’re not going out, we’re dining in. Besides if I were being romantic, I might bring you flowers, pick you up, take you somewhere nice. So this,” he said, pointing between him and you, “is not me being romantic.”

“And there goes Mr. Defensive,” you smirked. Of course he was not being romantic, not to you. He had a hundred and one ways to tease and annoy you but never to charm you. Still, you couldn’t help the way it killed you just a little inside.

“I swear if you tell me this is where the magic happens, I will smack your head,” you deadpan as Jess opened the door to his apartment.

“Why does that turn me on?” He teased. Your face twisted in confusion and disgust and Jess laughed triumphantly, having drawn out a reaction from you. You had no idea you were adorable, he thought.

“Just welcome to my home then,” he said. 

You stepped in, admiring his cozy space. You imagined a messy home with leftover containers and soda cans strewn about reeking of old laundry and faded furniture. You had little to no expectations at all.

Instead what greeted you was a small space, similar to yours. The bed was made, blanket tucked in neat corners and the furniture, while undoubtedly secondhand, was well maintained. If anything, the mismatched pillows against the pale blue sofa and the sanded down wooden table gave it personality. It smelled like subtle household cleaners and carried the scent that is so distinctly Jess, a mixture of soap and sweat, plus a hint of cologne he would never admit to wearing.

“It’s very you,” you remarked, “and I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

He shrugged, handing you your toaster, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Thanks again for the toaster. Now there’s only one troublemaker here in this room,” you quipped as you move towards his kitchen to help him set the dinner table.

“That’s definitely you,” he replied, handing you the plates and utensils while he moved to heat up the food from the fridge. “Hand me the glasses over there?” He asked, pointing to the drawers on the opposite end.

You nodded, setting down the plates on the table and headed towards the drawer. “Well, I’ll let it slide just this time because you’re feeding me and I can’t say no to free food. Thank you Jess,” you said, a small hint of affection blooming in your chest.

You opened the first drawer and found only papers. You were about to close it to check the next drawer when the familiar edge of stationery caught your eye. It was exactly the type of paper you smiled at for hours on end, trying to memorize each word. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted a half written letter to your eyes. A half written letter addressed to you.

A storm of emotions struck you then: confusion, hurt, and anger. All this time. The boy who weaseled his way into your heart, who called you cute in his first letter and wanted to get to know you. Who charmed you into the romantic idea of secret identities like spies undercover. Who shared your love for books and had the best recommendations that made you feel seen like no one ever has. Who spoke about his love for writing with a passion that inspired you. 

All this time it was Jess Mariano.

All this time it was a lie.

Just another one of his games.

“What about those gla—” he stopped mid-sentence when he turned back and saw you reading his letter.

“Fuck,” he exhaled softly as heat crept into his cheeks.

You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Mr. Fantastic Writer?” You huffed, trying to quell the tears that threatened to choke you. 

Jess opened his mouth and closed it, wanting to say a million words and failing. You watched the war raging in his head.

“Well then indeed, fuck!” You exclaimed in frustration. “And fuck you too. I know you love your games Jess, but you can’t just go around playing with other people’s feelings.”

You retreat and grabbed your things, shaking your head. “God, I feel like such a fool.”

You threw the door behind you and was a few steps away when you realized you left your toaster. Shame and betrayal marched with you as you opened his door again and found him still frozen where you left him.

“I’m just here for my toaster, which I actually need. Unlike you, I don’t need anything from you, Jess. I’ve read and heard enough,” you said, your voice wavered at the end and tears spilled down your cheeks.

You turned away from embarrassment, toaster in hand, and ran the rest of the way home. He didn’t deserve to hear your sobbing. He didn’t even deserve any of your tears. He was just a stupid boy that your stupid heart fell for. No big deal.

The next week passed in a blur. Unable to switch shifts with anyone else, you called in sick at the cafe and lived life between your university, the library, and your apartment. Never mind that you needed the pay, you could drown in instant noodles for all you cared. It didn’t matter anyway. A broken heart never cared for a full stomach.

That Friday, you were about to call it a night when the doorbell rang. The was odd, you thought, you weren’t expecting anyone. 

“You’ve got the wrong—” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the last person you ever wanted to see, Jess Mariano holding a bouquet of flowers and books. If it were any other day, it might have sent butterflies to your stomach. Now all it did was fan the flames of your anger because it was much easier to be angry than hurt.

You slammed the door close but Jess stopped it with his outstretched arm. “Are you trying to get yourself injured?” You accused and you hated it, how much you still cared.

“Please, I just need to talk,” he said, pain and sincerity etched in his handsome face.

You sighed and let him in, not wanting to cause a scene at the hallway. “You have five minutes,” you held up your hand for emphasis.

“Fine, five minutes,” he breathed, steeling himself. "Here’s a story for you: I met this girl working at a cafe. She’s smart and quick witted, she never runs out of comebacks. Her smile makes my day and I needed to see more of it so I came up with these games. And damn it, I looked forward to going to work every day because of her.

There was a nagging at the back of my mind to get to know her better. I wanted her to get to know me too, but I have a track record of screwing things up so I sent a letter. Just one couldn’t hurt, right?

Clearly, I underestimated her. One letter was never going to be enough. I loved hearing about her dreams, her stories, the inside jokes we created along the way. Without meaning to, I fell for her. I fell for you. It was never a game for me, all of it was real. Is still real.

When I heard you liked your secret pen pal too, I didn’t know if I should reveal myself or just disappear, let you forget me. Of course, I screwed things up again. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you but clearly I have. Would you give me a second chance? I’m not good at this but I want to try."

He’s breathless by the time he ends his speech and you take a moment as the words settled in. No wonder he discouraged your interest in your secret pen pal, which also turned out to be him.

You sighed, “you really screwed it up.” Your heart broke all over again only to come back whole together because he did like you. All those silly gestures he brushed off really did mean something. And the boy you loved through letters and your cafe crush turned out to be the same person.

You pondered his question. The way he went about it was all wrong, but a second chance might be worth a shot. “Fine, we can start over, but you’ll have to make it up to me. You owe me unlimited favors.”

“I'll fix all the toasters you need,” he said, presenting you with the bouquet of flowers and books.

“Oh you’ll have to do more than that. I have a broken bulb on the ceiling, the heater needs fixing, and the microwave will definitely break tomorrow,” you taunted him, accepting his bouquet nevertheless.

He just smiled, “I have a lot to make up for, but I’ll do it for you.” He moved closer to you, bringing the bouquet to rest on the kitchen counter, so he can wrap his arms around you. “You’re worth it,” he whispered in your ear and you hugged him back, fighting off the delicious chill that ran through your back from his words. Being in his arms felt so right.

“You like me,” you sing, teasing him like a child and you enjoy the way his chest rumbles against you as he laughs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Besides, you like me back.”

You removed yourself from his hug, already missing his warm embrace. “I never said I liked you,” you teased. 

Mock hurt danced across his features, “what’s not to like?”

You laughed at his arrogance, the need to touch him overwhelming everything else. “Fine,” you relented, “we can call it even.”

You closed the distance this time, “just to be clear, this is you being romantic?”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Yes, this is me being romantic and I will show you so much more,” he said, bringing his lips to yours with a thousand unsaid promises you were about to discover.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ When I came across a Jess Mariano fic, I just knew I had to write one too. Jess and his sarcastic ass in a (sort of) rivals to lovers trope, heck yes. ✿ Thanks to my lovely wife @pizzaapeteer for encouraging me to write this all those weeks ago ♡ ✿ Published this fic from a cafe, very on brand for the story.

yours truly | lee chan (masterlist)

☆.*+ seventeen social media au

★ synopsis: in which your rivalry with over competitive soccer star lee chan is put to a halt when your match-o-matics results reads a 99% match.

★ taglist: to join the taglist, sign up with the google form!

★ genre: valentines day!au, college!au, rival!chan, comedy, crack, angst, slow burn, childhood enemies to lovers

★ pairings: lee chan x female reader

★ schedule: mondays, wednesdays & fridays!

★ start: january 26th, 2021     ★ end: on hold

☆.*+ profiles

★ profiles 1

★ profiles 2

☆.*+ chapters

★ prologue

★ one. grudges

★ two. get in loser we're going shopping!

★ three. 99% match

★ four. the mall

★ five. tiger suit

★ six. LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO

★ seven. cupids arrow

★ eight. 11:30

★ nine. lover boy

★ ten. the coffee shop

★ eleven. a place for me

★ twelve. found you

★ thirteen. chocolate kisses

★ fourteen. paper hearts

★ fifteen. 1%

★ sixteen. i thought you wanted to dance

★ seventeen. yellow cab

★ eighteen. remember when

★ nineteen. call me if you get lost

★ twenty. baby i love you

★ and more to come :)

— More

recently divorced & looking for a new producer you’re inroduced to the seemingly stoic and hardworking min yoongi. at first it seems like he hates you but slowly he begins to warm up, showing you who he really is. how could you not fall for the caring, talented and amazingly devoted father?

pairing: idol!reader x producer/dad!yoongi

genre: S2L, angst, fluff

type: social media au

mood: pinterest board & spotify playlist

side pairing: taekook

updates: daily @ 7pm cst

a/n: disclaimer! baekhyun is an absolute dick in this but i in no way think that’s how he really is or that he would do anything i’ve written! i use people i like as side characters. also, there are mentions of infertility & it’s a fairly major plot point but there are no mentions of miscarriage apart from one of the songs implying it.

if you’d like to be added to the taglist feel free to send an ask!

Keep reading

made me cry... like 5 times

By The Moon; COMPLETED

(pls ignore time stamps)

disclaimer: spelling and grammar mistakes are included. ♡

↳ warnings: swear words

namjoon x reader au; soulmate!au

In a world where two souls are bonded for life, your soul tattoo or mark appears once you lock eyes with your soulmate. Y/n, was born with hers. She’s not really curious as to why though, so she just lets it be. She was too busy causing trouble and living her best life with her best friends anyways. It’s her last year of high school and she’s determined to to make the very best of it. No worries, no drama, just having fun. But what happens when she locks eyes with this nerdy looking kid who transferred at the start of senior year? She finds herself with a burning tattoo and bond she not even sure she’s ready for. Who was this kid? how does he know her friends? what’s in his past that he can’t seem to get over? and most importantly, what the fuck does the moon have to do with all of this?

prologue

1 - head game strong

2 - problems???

3 - R A V E N

4 - selfish

5 - 25 to life

6 - i would kill for you

7 - purple

8 - one step at a time

9 - reality check

10 - civil

11 - on my soulmate bond

12 - i’m struggling here fellas

13 - namjooning

14 - art

15 - missed you

16 - i’ve disappointed myself

17 - it’s the bunny smile

18 - shit show

19 - that’s rough buddy

20 - careful

21 - skank waffles

22 - i fucked up

23 - confused and stupid

24 - exquisite if you will

25 - i’ll kill her

26 - what if?

27 - food coma

28 - so did you

29 - ooop there it is

30 - for a long time

31 - baby

32 - i hope you stay

33 - hands of a goddess

34 - make me choose

35 - exhausted

36 - hook, line, and sinker

37 - don’t act

38 - that’s what i thought

39 - now why tf

40 - i lost

41 - void

42 - her over me

43 - i don’t care

44 - i love her

45 - thank FUCK

46 - moon souls

47 - whether you love him

48 - i’m an idiot

49 - kookie wookie

50 - you think it’s fun?

51 - the project part 1

52 - the project part 2

53 - toe licker

54 - hell yeah he is

55 - By The Moon, The end.

epilogue

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 ― ♡ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: jason todd was the exact type of guy you've been warned about your whole life, one that would stain you forever, lead you in the world of perdition... or that's what he seemed at least. you hated him, he hated you back, and nothing could ever make this hatred disappear. unless it was bite sized, weighted less than ten pounds and was a perfect mixture of you two.

status: ongoing

genre: romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, unwanted pregnancy, with a bit of smut here and there

rating: 18+ (MDNI). Although most chapters are safe for all ages, many will contain 18+ content. Each chapter will be tagged individually, reader discretion is advised.

word count: 27,4k

warnings: contains themes of family abuse, sex, mentions of abortion, drug use, and others that I will be updating along the way.

links: general masterlist ; playlist

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

♡ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 (1,2k)

sometimes you couldn't help yourself from hating everything, sometimes you couldn't help bumping into people, sometimes certain stains were hard to remove

♡ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 ; 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 (6,6k)

when you least expect, you're hurt somehow. at the hospital with someone you did not expect to ever be with, you night takes an unexpected turn and you're hurt more than you wanted to.

♡ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 (6,4k)

a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.

♡ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 (7,6k)

since your last encounter, jason has been living rent free in your head. you didn't want to, you needed more, and more found you in an unexpected way.

♡ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 (5,6k)

you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬

♡ character introductions

♡ instagrams