#but I also remember a story when they were less happy about their mistakes and one accused the other of doing it on purpose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vmpiires · 4 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; choso had just gotten home from work, a pocket full of tips as usual. the male was pretty tired and he was ready to relax. he remembered that you wanted to watch a horror movie with him, so he made sure to make himself look less tired, swallowing his pride and fighting with his emotions. all for you. but once again…he can’t bring himself to do it. but what happens when he sees you with another man?

₊❏❜ ⋮ part two ⌒

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

⌗ ˖⃗ 穿血 — 𝒕.𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 @sad-darksoul @aiyaaayei @a1-ic3

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.2OK

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; ya don’t know how happy i am. my pretty princess choso is okay and now he havin girl problems in the story 😭 im glad ya liking this though. hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D (also lmk if you wanna be tagged for possible upcoming parts if i decide to continue)

another note: GO READ THIS and request more storiessss,, my writers block is kicking my ass

“come on, get to it,” choso clapped, trying to get yuji to make his way upstairs. the little boy sighed, getting off of the couch and going upstairs with his older brother still following.

“can’t i stay up for a couple more hours?” itadori tilted his head, looking up at choso. the male sighed.

“you have school and you need to be in bed,” choso advised. though, he was correct and he was just trying to help yuji, he wanted to keep up his plans with you instead of leaving you to watch the movie on your own. “i have a doctors appointment in the morning also. we should be going to sleep.”

“wait why, are you okay?”

“i’ll be okay. it’s just an annual. and you have one coming too, so be ready for that.” choso smiled at his little brother’s consideration for his health. the male picked yuji up and decided to tickle his sides, making the boy laugh loudly.

“okay, now get to bed,” choso announced abruptly, putting the boy back down onto the floor. like before, yuji threw his arms around choso, telling him good night and running up to his room.

after that, choso would take a shower, deciding that he’d wash his hair also. once he finished, he’d dry himself off, shivering from the cold air hitting his skin as he walked back to his room.

back in his room, choso would close the door and start to clean up. making his bed, reorganizing his closet and tossing out things that he deemed useless at the time.

he’d pull the towel from around his waist, leaving him exposed for a moment before he’d quickly put on some clothes. his usual grey joggers. he didn’t even bother putting on a shirt.

choso plopped down onto his bed, finally happy that he could relax. it wasn’t long before his eyes started to close and he drifted off to sleep.

the day’s events quickly faded into nothing but fragments of his memory. even his promises slipped his mind. the male was lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow as if he had nothing to worry about in life.

then it hit him.

his eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up on the bed, remembering you. choso just groaned. he didn’t want to think of you right now. especially when he was just trying to fight his emotions.

you were probably staring at your screen with a slightly disappointed expression when you realized that choso stood you up after nervously agreeing to watch a movie with you.

maybe you weren’t disappointed. you probably had a boyfriend to replace him if he didn’t follow through with his plans with you. he didn’t even know why he was so hung up on you. you had the poor boy losing his mind.

choso was eyeing his laptop that was sitting on the desk, thinking if he should do something to satisfy his worries—if he should call you again.

‘call her? i said that i would do it.’ he thought. ‘no, don’t do that. you’d be wasting your energy. she probably has a boyfriend….you got played…like a fucking idiot.’

choso was now staring at the ceiling with his music playing, smoking a blunt while tears of frustration began to form in his eyes.

he had never been in love before. if the concept was ever brought up to him, he’d shrug it off and not participate in the conversation because he doesn’t know what it feels like to be in a relationship.

this whole situation was upsetting him. it hadn’t even been a week yet and feelings were swelling up in his mind. maybe if he just skipped his break or kept quiet, he wouldn’t be feeling like this.

suddenly, he hears his door opening. as the entrance of his room opens, the smoke from his joint slip out.

“are you okay?” yuji asked. choso looked up, following the voice and tracing it back to his little brother. the male sighed and just took a drag of his joint.

“go to bed, yuji…” he mumbled.

yuji climbed into bed with choso and sat beside him. “how come you’re crying? i never seen you cry before.”

“i—no, you’re too young to understand it. i don’t wanna tell you and you don’t get it.” choso took a drag of his blunt again before wiping away his tears.

yuji went silent for a moment before speaking up again. “i can still listen. just tell me what’s wrong.” the small boy offered. choso looked down before taking a breath.

“i like this girl so much…” choso began, “but every time i wanna interact, i get nervous and i always think about the worst case scenario. another thing, i don’t have time to be in love with anyone. i’d probably be a horrible partner anyway.”

“was it the lady at the store?” yuji asked.

“yes…”

“i knew it. you do like her,” yuji smiled, “um…i think you should still talk to her. she’s really nice—and she smells like strawberries.”

‘how do you even remember that?’ choso grimaced.

“she probably has a boyfriend. it doesn’t matter…”

“did you ask her…?”

choso flushed, “no, i didn’t ask. i don’t wanna ask personal questions to somebody i just met…it’s weird.”

“ask her,” yuji said.

choso sighed and nodded, taking in the advice.

a week passed by and choso had been thinking for a while. no call from you and you got nothing from him. it was radio silence in both directions. it made him feel worse but better at the same time.

tonight, the male was working, showing off how good of a bartender he was with that stale expression on his face. this was the first time he had actually shown off his skill because he was terribly shy.

from a distance, he noticed you walking in with another guy. he wanted to laugh because he already knew that would happen.

‘i was right. my intuition almost never fails.’

choso started to feel the irritation rising up in him despite his dead expression. his body was hot with anger but pain because he knew he couldn’t react like the way he wanted…

because you weren’t together.

the slit across his nose that he was so insecure about, neatly covered with a bandage began to bleed. the thick crimson fluid streamed down his cheeks like tears and slowly down to his lips.

his fingers were stained with the crimson fluid once he touched his face. he quickly made his way to the bathroom, trying not to be seen by anyone.

he stared at himself in the mirror, blood still streaming down his face and hitting the counter as he desperately tried to clean the mess off of his face.

suddenly the door opens. choso covered his nose again with a tissue when he turned around and spotted you walking in. the two of you made eye contact.

“what happened, are you okay?” you walked up to choso and you were about to take him by his wrists to move his hands that had been covering his bloody nose but it was obvious that he didn’t want you to see that.

‘please don’t…’

“nothing—it’s…just a nose bleed.” choso was still covering his nose, blood now streaming down his hands, making a bit more of a mess. you managed to move his hands, revealing the cut that he was so insecure about. you could see his cheeks reddening out of embarrassment now that you seen the one thing that he had been hiding from the world.

you would grab some face wipes from your purse and you bring choso down to your level to wipe the crimson fluid from his face, flinching as the cool wipe traveled over the bridge of his nose.

“sorry,” you whispered.

“no, it’s fine…i think.” choso replied lowly.

“are you sure this is just a regular nose bleed? this is so bad. i never seen somebody bleed this hard unless they busted their ass on the sidewalk.” you comment as you take a bandage out and sticking it onto the bridge of his nose like before.

“it happens all the time, i’m fine.” he replies. “that’s part of the reason why i keep it covered up.”

choso looked down and realized that you were holding his hands now but it was only because you had been wiping the blood off of them.

“you should probably go home, right? you don’t wanna have blood everywhere and then you pass out.” you say. “that’ll be a bit embarrassing."

when choso heard your giggling to lighten up the mood, he smiled a little—it was an awkward smile. the male didn’t smile too often in public or in general. the action felt so foreign to him.

“yeah, i think i’ll go home for the night,” choso says. “and i’m sorry i didn’t call you the other night…i just got-” he stops talking, thinking of a proper word to say. choso didn’t wanna tell you the whole truth just yet. “i just got wrapped up in my head that’s all. i overthink a lot.”

“oh, no. it’s okay, i understand. i was looking forward to talking to you again but i didn’t wanna be a bother because you just seem like a busy guy. always working and taking care of your little brother.” your hands slowly release choso’s and once again, you’re making eye contact with him. you blink when you find yourself looking at his lips.

“yeah…that too-” choso mumbled, “thank you for understanding. i mean, we haven’t spoken for a week, i thought you’d be mad at me.”

“no, i’m not mad.” you said, a bit stunned that he would even think that you were angry at him. “it’s my fault, i probably should’ve checked on you sooner instead of leaving you to your thoughts.”

“i don’t really mind is okay.” choso mumbled.

“hey, how about we do that movie night tonight? i haven’t watched it by myself yet.” you offer, smiling a little.

“you aren’t gonna have that guy there with you, right?” he said quietly. you look behind you and smiled.

“nah, he’s just a friend. don’t worry about that, we’ll have our time together.” you assured. behind your reply, you were a bit surprised to hear him ask about the guy you came to the bar with. though you didn’t have any feelings towards the guy, he definitely liked you.

hence why you’re on this “date” with him….

“i’ll see you after work, then.” choso said and you nodded.

“aw, i thought you were going home.” you teased.

“i gotta feed the house,” choso replied as he began to walk towards the bathroom door. “i can’t come home empty handed.”

and with that, he exited the bathroom.

eventually, you do the same, waving to choso as he made drinks at the bar area. he’d pause for a moment to wave back at you, making you smile.

later that night, choso gets on facetime with you again with a cigarette between his lips. he had on a white shirt with a pair of basketball shorts. his hair wasn’t tied up like he had it all the time. it was down.

the two of you were watching a movie called ‘pearl’, which you suggested because you wanted to have an arsenal of movies before your night ended. you didn’t wanna just watch ‘midsommar’ and hang up.

“she fucked her momma up, not gone lie.” you comment as you watched the movie. choso was pretty immersed, eyes wide was he watched the murder of the main character’s mother.

“yeah…that’s kinda fucked up.” choso mumbled. the male threaded his fingers through his hair and took a drag from his cigarette, trying to keep himself awake.

“oh! that reminds me,” you start, pausing the movie just as the next scene began to play. “there’s a halloween party next week because you know….doesn’t that sound fun? you wanna come?”

“oh—no, i can’t. i have to work and the neighbors aren’t gonna be able to watch yuji because they’re going on a trip and they won’t be back until the second week of november…i don’t have anyone to take care of him.” choso explained, his answer prolonging as more reasons to not go to said party started to come up. you smile at his reaction.

“come on, kids his age will be there. it’s not like it’s a full on adult party. the kids’ll be upstairs and we’ll be downstairs having our fun. and you told me your boss is a chill dude, he should be fine with you calling off.”

“well—well, yeah, i guess but i don’t have a costume and i don’t go to parties. it’ll be awkward and i’ll wanna go home and—”

“choso,” you interject, “it’s okay. just stick by me and when you feel the need to, you can check on yuji. and you have time to find a costume, trust me. so…do you wanna come?”

choso put the cigarette back between his lips and sighed, rethinking all the possibilities and the pros of going to this party.

“um…yeah, sure. i’ll come.”

“good,” you smile before unpausing the movie.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

112 notes · View notes

heavenhealy · 8 months

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genre: smut, porn with a bit of plot, flatmate!matty x fem!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader

summary: after a bit too much wine at a game night, you worry matty learned things he never would have never wanted to know about his flatmate, but he assures you you aren’t as weird as you think.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: this is smut, please do not read this if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with sexual content!! specific warnings include: swearing, alcohol consumption, they're both a bit self conscious but only briefly, crying, (VERY MINOR) who hurt you troupe bc I'm a whore for it, reader is worried about being kinkshamed/implications she has been in the past, dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation (consensual), unprotected sex (don't do this), choking, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), aftercare, fluff, matty being a little softie after sex

a/n: I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize if this is rusty! I also do not proof read so there may be some mistakes, and as always please let me know if I missed a warning and I will add it on. Happy reading! :)

"Never have I ever...." Your friend trails off, swirling the contents of her wine glass absently in her hand. Her living room is packed but all the attention is on her as she speaks. A sudden blast of nostalgia from college collides into you: you sitting in your much smaller common room with her and your group of classmates, drunk off cheap beer as you swap horror stories about professors and dating. She had always been the most gripping and magnetic person you knew. Someone who could pull all of your darkest, deepest secrets out of the folds of your mind before you even realized.

Or maybe it was the expensive wine that she always had stocked now that you were adults.

"Oh! Never have I ever made someone choke me during sex." A few flickers of laughter go up around the room, and you watch as some couples proudly throw back gulps of their drinks. Your mind whirrs, suddenly self conscious at the idea of someone seeing you take a drink, but you do it anyway. There's so many people here, and so many of them are drunk that it's unlikely anyone would remember anyway. You take a hearty gulp and feel the pleasant buzz settle in your veins, whether from the alcohol or the quiet liberation of admitting one of your darkest desires like this.

Her question seems to have inspired a new theme of the game, as the next person in line slurs, "never have I ever been spit on and liked it." Less people offer up their admittance than on the last round, and your face flushes as you try to subtly bring your glass to your mouth. Your eyes dart around, drunkenness making you feel sleepy. The room was mostly occupied by your coworkers and friends of friends, all people that you could elect to never see again if you had to, and a wash of relief has you taking another sip of wine- this one just for enjoyment.

"Never have I ever let someone I'm hooking up with come inside me." Even you have to laugh at the absurdly sexual way the game began to go, but you jovially drain the last of your wine, throwing your head back lavishly as a round of jeers go up in the circle around the coffee table.

Your head is back upright, warm and swimming with intoxication as you giggle in spite of yourself. Remnants of wine stick on your lips and you lick them, trying to pry off the last of the sweet taste. Your body feels so heavy and so light at the same time: flying and sinking with intoxication and the inherent comfort that comes with it. Your eyes flutter open, mostly because you're afraid you really could fall asleep right on the couch if you keep them shut. As soon as the visual world comes back to you, you see him.

Matty, your generous flatmate who always accompanies you to these parties when he has the time, standing just behind the seated circle of people in the game who you now notice are beginning to disperse. The sight of him is sobering. How long had he been standing there? The rest of these people were inconsequential to the rest of your life, but Matty? You share a home with him, cook each other dinner, and swap each others' laundry, and pick up medicine when the other is sick.

Nerves curl in your stomach. If he had seen all of that, he definitely would think you're a freak, a sexual deviant. Maybe he would want to terminate his lease and you would be forced to find a new place. You suddenly feel dizzy as he approaches.

Handsome as ever, he pushes a hand through his already wild curls and plops onto the couch beside you. He hums thoughtfully, examining your face closely; the flush of your cheeks, the unhinged look you're sure is present in your eyes. As hard as you try, your intoxicated mind can't comprehend the emotions showing on his own face.

About all you can muster to think is "handsomehandsomehandsome" as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before prying the empty wine glass from your hand.

"We've got to get going," he says to someone as you stand with him, slightly wobbly in your platformed sneakers. You wave at your friend and manage to support yourself long enough to make it out of her front door. The night air is thick and sticky with humidity but Matty keeps an arm around your shoulders as you go down the stairs, silently ensuring you don't wipe out and skin your knee again.

"Thanks," you finally speak once you're onto the familiar even sidewalk back to your flat. He just hums, dark eyes sparkling under the street lamps dotted along the path.

"You didn't drink?" You ask, suddenly realizing that he seemed remarkably steady tonight.

"'course I did," he wiggles his flask from his jean pocket and waves it in front of you, "I'm just not a lightweight." You sigh, throwing your arms up dramatically. He's already giggling before you even begin to defend yourself.

"I didn't get drunk off of the one glass, Matthew! I actually had three tonight. And I didn't even get sleepy till the last one."

"Sleepy? Is that the word for it?" His voice is clipped as you make the final turn to your street, the looming complex you call home only yards away. Your brow furrows at his tone.

"What are you implying?" You stop, arms crossed defensively over your chest. He deflates, visibly dropping at your change in demeanor as if it wasn't him who caused it.

"Seriously, Y/N? We're almost home." You don't budge and he relents. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I know you're sleepy, let's go. Please? Forget I said anything." You sigh, appreciating the candid look of relief on his face when you start to walk again, all the way until you're into the safety of your bed.

---

"Oh, fuck," you grimace upon waking up. You have no idea what time it is, but sunlight is streaming in through the crack in your curtains, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the tv down the hallway. You know that your hair is tangled, and it's a miracle that you even bothered to change out of your clothes before bed.

You grasp for your phone and sit up, cursing the throbbing headache that always comes with getting wine drunk. You start picking up pieces of the night in your memory like loose change: a selfie here, a bump into a guy from accounting there, a handful of pretzels tossed into your mouth by your friend, the game of never have I ever-oh.

Shit. You swallow hard, listening for the noises downstairs, and the confirming shuffle of Matty's footsteps makes you freeze. Shit, how much had he heard? You meant to ask about it last night but lacked the cognitive ability for such a thing.

Your stomach bottoms out as you think, practicing different ways to approach it in your head.

Hey, did you hear about all of my weird sex stuff last night?

Hey buddy, learned anything about me recently that changed your view of me as a person and now you want to move out?

Hi Matty, thanks for coming with me to the party and getting us home, did you see me admit to liking being spit on?

Each idea was worse than the last, and a shiver of fear runs up your neck. You had always expected to have to deal with some differences in this living agreement, and had before, but never about something like this. Okay, maybe you could just avoid him until you came up with a good way to ask? Or maybe it would never come up at all? Perhaps he really hadn't been in the room the whole time. And worse case scenario, you have time to think about it. You could crawl right back into bed and pretend to sleep all day and-

"Y/N? You're up, right?" Matty's voice sounds from right outside the door, strong and clear. You consider ignoring him but he nudges on the door and it swings open just a bit, revealing him clutching onto a bakery to go box. He smiles bright when he sees you upright and takes a step into your room.

"Brought you a cinnamon roll,” he smiles the small, earnest smile that you don’t even think he realizes he does, and your heart melts. Surely this is a sign off goodwill.

You thank him and take the box, immediately flipping the lip open and staring down at the pastry. Your stomach rumbles at the scent so you dig in, flakes of dough falling off and back into the box as you eat. Matty stays silently in your doorway until you vaguely gesture at your bed, inviting him to sit as you chew.

He perched himself at the foot of your bed: hair messy under the hood of his favorite old sweatshirt and his hands tucked endearingly under his thighs, as if he’s waiting for something.

You finish your bite and raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that he voices whatever he wants or needs from you. Not that you didn’t love just spending time together or the random act of kindness, but faint alarm bells were still ringing at the possibility of what he learned last night. Neither of you were prudes: you’d had your fair amount of conversations about hook ups throughout your years as friends, but it still felt like a delicate line to cross.

“‘S good?” He asks, voice stunted as if he had to swallow down his nerves before he spoke. “Are you feeling okay? Not too hungover?” His eyebrows crinkle cutely as he asks, eyes roaming your face as if to make sure you’re telling the truth.

You nod your assurance. “Fine, I was mostly just hungry but you fixed that.” He echoes the grin you produce and your heart flutters. He looks so painfully domestic like this, in his comfy clothes and making sure you feel okay. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you recall the care he took -always takes- to get you home safely.

“Good. You were...pretty blasted." You cringe, placing your head in your hands. The heat of your cheeks is strong and burning into the palms of your hands. Fear strikes down your spine, a fuzzy feeling of panic filling your mind. The question dances on the tip of your tongue.

"Hey." His fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging gently at it until you relent. The warmth of his touch lulls you a bit, but you can still feel the tears rimming your eyes. He coos, the sound a soothing balm on your heart.

"What's got you so upset? You're more than allowed to get drunk from time to time, love. I'm no saint myself." The pad of his thumb swipes gently over the vein in your arm.

"I-" one hot tear escapes you, rolling down the side of your nose. "How much did you see?" Your voice barely holds: wobbly and unsure yet you somehow find the courage to look at him: staring deep into his eyes. He looks back just as unflinchingly, studying your eyes as if he was trying to memorize their exact curvature.

His mouth opens, then closes into a frown, and a dark wave of anxiety creeps through your chest. He knows. He saw it all, and you know Matty well enough to know that he only hesitates with you when he's trying to find the right words to soften the blow. Like the time you had made horrendous tasting pasta and he pushed it around the plate until you finally asked for his honesty. He releases his hold on your wrist as you tug it away harshly, scooting further up your bed until you hit the headboard with your back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about- if you think I'm weird and you want to leave or not live here anymore, or you don't want me to ever talk to you again-" your voice wavers and a rush of tears spill forth despite how hard you will them to stop. The idea of him never speaking to you again you makes you choke on a sob, but you can't dull the voices in your mind.

"Now why the fuck would you think that?" His voice snaps you out of your blubbering. His pretty features are marred into a scowl so deep that you gasp.

"Tell me, Y/N, why would you think that? I would never, ever-" his features shift, eyes softening. "Who made you think that way about yourself?" You try to ignore the undercurrent of anger in the question but it oddly sets you alight to hear how much he cares about this. That maybe even if he doesn't agree with your desires, he's not going to alienate you because of them.

Your tears have dried onto your cheeks, and you can feel the uneven breaths of anxiety begin to wash away as he shuffles closer until your knees touch. It still feels as if your brain is full of cotton, unable to process or produce anything meaningful to the conversation.

"I don't mind if you don't tell me who made you feel that way, but I'll be damned if I let you go on feeling' weird about it. Or alone about it. Cause you're not." You nod along listlessly as you often do when he rambles on, and with the mix of emotions rushing through you it takes you a moment to understand him. Matty traces a lazy pattern over your knee cap, eyes glued to your face as you catch up.

"Oh," it stumbles out of you before you can check yourself. "So you, like," your brain short circuits as he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"I do."

"You don't think I'm gross?" A spark of hope settles in your stomach, whether from the knowledge, or Matty's proximity, or both you aren't sure.

He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth in a way that makes your heart lurch. His curls shimmy around his face as he shakes his head no, hand stilling on your knee.

"Actually quite the opposite." His lopsided grin makes you gasp, and his hand slides up the length of your leg until it's resting on the top of your thigh. He sits up onto his knees, imposing over you even on with his pajamas still on. "More surprised..." his eyes search your face, finding only awe, "happy, thrilled, elated...who would have thought my sweet little angel would be so..." he clicks his tongue, mocking as he pretends to think. Your heart rate quickens as arousal shoots through you. "Fucking dirty." He tilts his head as if speaking to a child, eyes sparkling with what you can only assume is lust.

Your mouth feels dry as your entire face and neck flush red.

"I-I, well, uhm." You gulp and he places a hand delicately on your face. You lean into the touch, no longer finding it in you to be ashamed in front of him.

"You what? Are a dirty little thing who gets off on being choked and spit on?" You nod fervently and he chuckles, winding his fingers into the hair at the base of your neck. "Gonna need some words from this pretty mouth or we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, yes! I am, Matty. C-can you please?" He tugs at your hair, sending your line of sight upwards until all you can see are his eyes and mop of curls.

"Please ruin you? Make you forget about whatever fucker shamed you for what gets you off?" All thoughts outside of Matty leave you as you whine your affirmation. The anticipation is enough to make you squirm against his hold, hot pin pricks of pleasure sparking as he pulls against your hair.

"No running now that I've got you." He smiles sinfully before pushing forward for a kiss, molding his lips against your own with ferocity that you had only imagined he would use. No matter how many times you had fantasized about kissing him you never would have expected it to feel this perfect.

He tastes like coffee and the faint staleness of his last cigarette; something so iconically Matty that it makes you want to cry. He devours you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and holding steady on your hair to keep you exactly in place for him. Arousal roars inside of you, underwear already slicking at the show of dominance just the kiss has given you.

"Need you." You mumble it into the kiss, unable to push down your thoughts any longer. Matty relents, chest heaving just as much as your own.

"Need you," you try again, clearer this time, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. It's gone in an instant, his lean tattooed torso exposed for your viewing pleasure. Matty's hands are instantly fisting into the fabric of your old sleep shirt, stripping it as soon as you gasp out a yes. He eyeballs your tits and immediately groans, deep and guttural in a way you've never heard before. "Prettiest fuckin' girl. Look at you." The tenderness makes your heart swell as he tenderly cups your breasts in both hands, pinching at your nipples just enough to make you breathless. He places a line of kisses down your sternum and then follows the same path with a swipe of his tongue.

Shuddering, you latch onto his back and dig in with your nails, hoping to leave him with a little gift of his own. The movement presses him against you, his face buried in your stomach as he continues the sinful path of his tongue down to the elastic band of your shorts. He licks under it, being careful not to actually touch you anywhere you truly wanted him.

"Mmph, Matty, please-please please!" You moan and shiver, wriggling under his weight as he keeps you pinned down with one arm over your mid section.

He nips playfully at the skin of your stomach, "Impatient little slut, huh? Just got started on you and you're already lookin' for more." He abandons your skin completely, taking his warmth with you. A whine grumbles in your chest at the loss, but it dies in the air as you watch him shuck off his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock: something you'd imagined but never figured you would be lucky enough to see in person. Desire strikes through you as he settles against the bed, his lean thighs on display as he kneels on the bed.

"Can I suck your cock?" The question jumps out of you and Matty stills, seemingly shocked at your boldness. He cocks his head, biceps flexing when he wraps a hand around himself. Your mouth practically waters as he pumps himself slowly.

"Of course you can," he licks his lips as he settles into your crumpled bedsheets, spreading his legs to give you ample room to work. You spring into action, eager to repay all of the attention he's given you.

There's no time to waste once his cock is in your mouth. Your eyes water at the intrusion but you can't deny the way it makes your pussy flutter to feel so full of him. Matty gasps, lacing his fingers back through your sweaty hair and leading you further down, pressing your face into the skin of his pelvis.

A gag ripples through you and Matty groans, loosening his grip just enough that it's clear you could escape if you wished. But you don't, and you won't, as you work through the reflex with hot tears streaking down your face. Matty's breathy gasps only encourage you as you wiggle your tongue along the bottom of his cock as you suck: saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth and dripping into a sticky mess at the base of him.

"So fuckin' messy and hot, spitting all over me cause you're so desperate, is that it? Can't do anything but be stupid and drool all over my cock?" You moan at his words, bobbing your head vigorously both to show you agree with him and encourage him to say more, the nasty words flipping all the right switches in your brain.

His hips stutter up into your mouth and he huffs, pulling you off of him in painfully slow increments. You whine at the loss: throat raw and scratchy as you watch his cock shine under the light.

"Lay down," his voice is clipped and you're silently thrilled to note the shake as evidence that he was feeling just as fucked out as you.

You follow his instruction, flipping easily onto your back. He stills at the foot of your bed as you sprawl in front of him, legs parted in invitation. His chest heaves as he crowds overtop of you, heated skin against skin as he presses the length of his body onto your own. The fullness of his weight against you makes you feel fuzzy and you go lax under him, bucking your hips upwards in seek of friction over your clit.

Matty hums, his reddened lips forming into a mocking pout. "Prettiest baby ever but just so desperate," he places a kiss on your forehead and your heart flutters: eyes watering at the sweet gesture.

He catches your gaze, carefully inspecting the shine in your eyes.

"I'm okay," you voice before he can even ask, running your fingers over his jaw as you grin up at him. "Just happy." A little sly grin spreads on his lips and you can't help but return one, a giddy feeling of happiness spreading through your bones. It only makes you more ravenous for him and you whine, pushing your hips up against his own again as you attach yourself to his neck, biting a hickey into the skin just under his ear. A long moan falls from him as you work your mouth against him and your mind short circuits, in disbelief that you finally had him like this.

"Fucking quit with the hips before I explode," Matty growls, pulling away from the stimulation of your movement. You still immediately, the steel in his voice making you pliant. Apparently pleased with your behavior, Matty simply sits back, trailing his sinfully long fingers between your legs. You gasp at finally being touched, head pushing back into your pillows as Matty circles a finger around your hole, pushing in slowly as you widen your legs to allow him more access.

"Pretty little pussy, think you can handle another one?" You know he's teasing you, as he was already working another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open. The burn is deeply satisfying, liquid pleasure seeping through you as he works you open, thrumming his thumb against your clit.

"Matty, please?" You tug at the hand unoccupied with fingering you. His eyes squint in confusion at your request and you sigh, pulling his hand toward the base of your neck. His hand on your pussy stills as his mind finally catches up.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're fuckin' perfect, want me to choke you? Wanna have my hand around your neck while I fuck you stupid?." You nod dumbly, already feeling like you're on cloud nine. He moves the fastest you'd ever seen him, abandoning his work on your pussy for a threatening grip on one hip. You watch hungrily as he lines himself up with your pussy, eyes locked onto the image of his intrusion. The fullness of his cock inside of you made you keen, chest heaving as he pushes fully inside of you.

It had been a very long time since you'd been this full, and the fact that Matty was the one filling you made it even more addicting. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you dizzy, and even more so once he finally began to move. A stream of obscenities spill out of you and Matty tsks, falling back into this dominant persona as he narrows his eyes at you, fingers dancing at the base of your neck. You swallow with harsh anticipation.

"Do I need to shut you up?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel the strength of his hand closing around your neck. "What a dirty little girl, wantin' me to choke you when I'm already buried inside of you." His voice deepens with a groan while you plead him with your eyes, pussy throbbing around his cock at his words. His thrusts falter for just a moment as he finally relents, tightening his hold on your neck until you feel the perfect level of pressure that makes you feel perfectly floaty, nodding at him to continue his thrusts against you.

Emblazoned by the sight of his hand around your neck, Matty's hips snap into you with renewed vigor that has you rocking against the pillow, legs locked around his back. The slick sound of your pussy around him fills the room, mingling with the strangled moans that slip from both of you.

Matty pants above you, the punishing pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It's almost embarrassing how easily he works you up, and almost even more embarrassing how quick you are to hang your mouth open, mind blanked by the pleasure as you take everything he has to give you. He loosens his grip on your neck slightly and you whine petulantly.

"Relax, pretty. Not done with ya, hold on." Thankfully the movement of his hips doesn't even stutter as he moves his hand upwards, over the cleft of your chin before tracing the pads of his first two fingers over your bottom lip, pulling on the flesh until you open your mouth again. He smiles and lust clouds your senses as you watch his eyes crinkle.

"There's something else you want, isn't there? Something else that makes this pretty pussy all wet?" Your eyes widen, heart jumping into your throat as one of your most common wet dreams comes to life right in front of you. You try to swallow but his fingers in your mouth impede you, the tip of your tongue running over the digits.

"Wan' you to spit in my mouth," you make the sentence out with impressive clarity, especially as Matty's thrusts speed up at the confession, a deep, sustained moan rumbling out of his chest.

He slips his fingers from your mouth and immediately puts them between your bodies to thrum over your clit, slick with your own spit as they make contact. A shock runs through you, exciting every vein in your body with the whisper of your oncoming release. Despite his renewed vigor, Matty's eyes remain glued to your own as you hang your mouth open. From this angle you can see all of his pretty curls framing his face and every eyelash around his deep brown eyes. Before you even have a moment to anticipate it, a thick translucent glob of spit descends from his perfect lips and onto your waiting tongue. You swallow it eagerly as his cock twitches inside of your walls, and before you can even thank him, his hand unoccupied hand latches back onto your neck.

"I'm going to fuckin' come, shit. You're so hot." Matty's praises send you to another plane of existence as he holds you by the neck, deft fingers curling around your clit in time with his thrusts. You're sure that the sounds you're making are pathetic and embarrassing but pleasure courses through you so quickly that you can barely make out your warning that you were going to come.

Matty growls as you finally let yourself go, giving up to the monsoon of pleasure that wipes through your entire body. Your toes curl, muscles strained with the force of your orgasm as you hold him as close as possible with your legs. Matty curses, plowing into as he nears his own end. Even though you feel out of this world, you are acutely aware of everything about him; the way he pants and the rivulets of sweat that are beading down his chest, the beautiful moans that come from his bitten-red lips.

"Gonna come, can I come inside?" His desperation is making him whiny, and if you were less fucked out you would poke fun at the tone you know he would hate, but all you can think about is having his hot come fill you up.

"Yes, please! Need it Matty." A sliver of overstimulation starts to overwhelm your easy pleasure but you endure through it as you feel his cock twitch heavily inside of you before he leans into you, face buried into your shoulder as he comes. Although you mourn the loss of the face he makes, you get a beautiful sample of the moans that overtake him when he comes. The sound takes your breath away alongside the feeling of him filling you to the brim, so forcefully that you feel yourself shudder with another small orgasm as he finishes with a few more tiny thrusts of his hips. You gasp for air, immediately grappling for him to wrap your arms fully around his back.

He falls into you easily, his own chest heaving as his cock softens inside of you. You hear rather than feel him kissing over the plane of your shoulder as you float in and out of focus, exhausted and most likely dehydrated from this and the night before. Unintelligible speech rumbles against your skin, and Matty must realize that your lack of response means you aren't quite there, as he leans up onto his elbows.

You smile when you see him, face flushed and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Handsome," you finally speak the word you held back last night and he laughs heartily as he cups your jaw as if examining you to look for damages before placing a kiss onto your lips; short and sweet and grounding.

"Glad you finally caught up, love. It was getting exhausting being the only one in the house who thought so."

You roll your eyes, finally coming back to yourself and reality.

"Last time I'll ever compliment you." Giggles continue to wrack his body as he slowly pulls out of you. The gush of your mixed arousal coming out of you makes you whine, sure that you had just ruined your sheets.

Matty looks guilty as you finally make eye contact again and you just wave him off, sitting up slowly as he flops onto the bed beside you. He looks up at you, reverently, and you blush.

"Stop that, please. Stop." Your voice is still scratchy but you can't fight the smile on your face, the undeniable hope that this wasn't just a one time freak accident.

"Stop looking at how pretty you are? Especially with that just got choked and fucked within an inch of my life glow? Nah." He casually pushes his hair off of his forehead and your body betrays your rolling eyes with a new stir of arousal.

"Seriously, though. You're hot. And pretty, and gorgeous and so fucking dirty in all the best ways."

"Stop before I barf, Matthew." You try to be petulant but can't resist his cute grabby hands as he settles you down next to him, petting gently at your temple.

"But thanks," you finally squeak out, feeling tremendously tired and satisfied as you yawn. "For being cool and doing all that and, like, not running away from me after." You feel him stiffen slightly before he goes lax again.

"Love, if I'm running anywhere, it's over to my room for us to have a clean bed to do this again."

#Matty Healy #Matty Healy x reader #Matty Healy smut #matty healy oneshot #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 #matty x reader #the 1975 x reader #flatmate!matty

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walkawaytall · 5 months

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No, but I continue to be salty about the fact that someone decided it was canon for Poe to not meet Leia until he was an adult.

I just feel like him being the kid of two people she and Han knew, him losing his mother so young…it’s like solid plot points, motivations, and drama were just laid out on a silver platter and everyone was like, “Nah, we’ll make this make less sense and also worse.”

Like, we never even got specific motivation from Ben about why he’s so bitter about Han in particular (okay, at least not that I remember. I admittedly haven’t seen any of the sequel trilogy in nearly four years, but what I recall was some one-off vague comment about Han not being around that sounded about like the reason every kid in every ‘90s movie with a Busy Business Dad would give for why their father wasn’t at a soccer game or whatever).

You know what would be more interesting? Han and Leia — both orphans themselves, and Leia twice over — doing their best to help Kes out after Shara dies, taking Poe on a weekend every-so-often, whatever, so he and Ben are basically cousins. And, like, Poe’s interested in ships, right, because his mother was a pilot and that’s what he wants to be, and Han’s more than happy to talk shop with the kid for as long as his attention span lasts. And when Ben’s, like, five he could not possibly care less about this, but as he gets older, he misinterprets common interest as abject favoritism of Poe or even a sort of rejection of himself because, while Han absolutely tries, he’s never going to fully understand the Jedi stuff and talking about flying is simple for him.

And Leia and Poe bond over old Rebellion stuff. He wants to hear about Shara and wants more stories to ask his dad about once he goes home and Ben’s kind of over it, so it’s just another area where he feels like his parents are better-bonded with someone who isn’t him. It’s not negligence or actual favoritism or rejection; it’s a complicated situation where Han and Leia are trying to do right by both boys and misunderstandings and hurt feelings ensue because kids don’t always see the big picture or whatever. And also I’m sure Han and Leia make mistakes, but they also want to be there for an old friend and this child who they have known his entire life who lost his mother — their friend and colleague — way, way too young.

And it would continue to add to the complex feelings Ben has about his mother when she starts another rebellion, which is already complicated for him, but then he finds out that Dameron kid, who’s basically family but also who he has a lot of bitterness toward, is not only involved in this rebellion; he’s kind of Leia’s go-to guy. So, Ben’s become the monster his mother always feared resided in her own blood while Poe’s a shiny, good-guy pilot just like Shara…just like Han.

Wouldn’t that have been more interesting than “My dad was never there for vague reasons, Rey, plz feel bad for me”?

Anyway, I said it when I talked about my Ewok makeover montage idea and I’ll say it again: I should be in charge of more things.

#Star Wars #sequel trilogy #leia organa #han solo #poe dameron #kes dameron #shara bey #kylo ren #ben solo

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phantasmagoria-in-neverland · 9 months

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Until Eternity.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader.

Synopsis: Miguel has lost you once before, back on your original Earth. Then lost you again, when he found a reality in which the two of you, and your newfound darling daughter, were finally happy. Now, in one final act of selfishness, he has found you one last time, and he is not going to let you go. Not for the entire Multiverse. or alternatively I loved you once, I loved you twice, I loved you in my previous lives.

Genre and Warnings: Angsty with a happy ending, more or less. Miguel has a whole lot of issues, what's new. He is also kind of obsessed. There may be some inaccuracies when it comes to the back story, I'm not 100% sure. Also, Gabriella is described to be the Reader’s and Miguel's daughter, but I steered clear of any implication that she has been birthed by the reader, she could very well be adopted.

A/N: This fic was written while listening to “Until Eternity by Blackbriar” on repeat; for an optimal reading experience, get some earphones on and enjoy!

At the beginning of every story, Spider-Man falls in love. Peter Parker has Mary Jane Watson, Miles Morales has Gwen Stacy, and Miguel O'Hara has you. And at the end of every story, Spider-Man’s heart is left in pieces. Mary Jane Watson leaves, Gwen Stacy dies, and you…

Miguel doesn't let himself think of you too often, he likes to tell himself it is because he is learning how to move on, to heal, but most days, he simply can't handle your memory. Every reminder of you weighs down on his heart just as much as it keeps him moving forward.

He wishes he could remember you the way you would want, with a smile on his face, and the taste of all the good times on his tongue. And that is how it starts, when he allows himself the chance to look through the pictures of you he collected over the years, it is only when he reaches the end that his heart breaks all over again… when he remembers your deaths. Both of them.

The first time Miguel O’Hara fell in love with you, as it is destined to be, happened on your original Earth, Earth-928. The two of you were young and foolish, him, overly ambitious and with a newly discovered power at his fingertips, and you, content to live your life day by day, enjoying the little things and uncaring of the greater powers at play.

Still, you had fallen for each other and fallen fast. You had known from the moment you met that you would be each other’s forever, and even now, so many years later, Miguel could attest to that truth.

At the time, he had not thought, not even for a second, that you could be taken away from him; had not known it would be the sum of all of his mistakes that would kill you.

In hindsight, the older version of himself, the one who has spent years researching the Canon Events, can tell that it had been obvious. In every version of the story, it is always Spider-Man that brings about his own ruin, and it is always Spider-Man, the mask first, and the man behind it second, that kills the love of his life.

It comes easy now, to think of all the things he could have done differently, to see each and every mistake he has made along the way glaring back at him.

Had he been a more attentive boyfriend, had he realized you were as mortal as anyone else, had he not focused only on his ambitions, maybe that night, you wouldn't have been left to walk home alone in the dark, listening to the voicemail he left you that promised you ‘he would make it up to you’. Had he been a better Hero, he wouldn't have lost sight of his origins, wouldn't have left all the small time criminals to be handled by the police because he had ‘more important fights to take care of’. If he had been cleaning the streets as he had promised himself he would do, then maybe he would have caught that mugger before he shot you. And had he been a better man, he wouldn't have searched all across the city for the man who took you from him, would have taken him to prison instead of killing him with his own hands, wouldn't have dishonored your memory in such a way.

But Miguel had spent too long holding your cold body cradled to his chest, spent too long scrubbing your blood out of his hands, and too long crying against your headstone, pleading to anyone above for a second chance, to care.

Miguel took what little comfort he could get: you died as you had lived, kindly. Your focus, your worry, was on him all throughout your last breaths, not a moment spent caring for your blood staining the pavement. You died pleading for him to keep living his life to the fullest, wiping away his tears with a gentle hand, steady even through the pain you must have been in, even with how much strength every movement required.

“Promise me you'll move on.” you begged him, even when the last thing you'd heard out of him was an empty promise.

And so Miguel lied. He told you that he would never forget you, that had been the truest thing to ever come out of his mouth, and perhaps it was what helped him sell what came next. It was in a shaky breath that he swore he would keep smiling for you, that had been a conscious lie, worth it to see the way your face relaxed, for you to leave in peace.

And yet, in your last moments Miguel realized he had been the one to kill you, and he never knew peace again.

So yes, he could easily admit to all the mistakes he had made, and he had paid for them greatly. When you went, all the joy in the world left with you, and Miguel, who'd been left behind, became a shadow of the man he used to be.

When he discovered a way to travel through the multiverse, his first thought had been to find you, the second one, was a promise to himself that he'd never go looking for you. Not only there was no guarantee that any other version of you would be the you he had lost, there was also the very high probability that where there was a you there would also be another him. He would not mess with your life simply because he could not find a way to live without you, he had to bear the consequences of his own actions, and that was final.

Up until the second time Miguel O’Hara fell in love with you, not that he had ever stopped, on an Earth not your own.

He had only been looking for a quiet place to retire to, which had nothing to do with you, and could not find anywhere to stay for longer than a few months, nowhere felt right, which also had nothing to do with you.

When the lies he tells himself, and you, start piling up, Miguel lies again: when he looks at himself in the mirror and pretends he doesn't hate the man he sees.

It wasn't until he saw himself die that his life clicked back into place, and something felt right again. Now there wasn't only a him without you, but also a you without him.

Coming back home to you, even though your house was much less advanced then it had been, and he couldn't begin to recall a single memory portrayed in the photographs on the walls, even though he was impersonating your newly dead husband and praying to all the gods he could name that you wouldn't notice, and the two of you had had a daughter he had never even met, felt like spring after a never ending winter, like rebirth. The day he saw you again, for the first time since your death, Miguel thought the world to be kind.

Your life together, that Miguel now clinged so tightly to, was great for a time. A fairytale really, the future you had both dreamed of when you were still young and naïve, when you had still been you, and the happiest place in the world was the treehouse in the garden of the home you had grown up in and hoped to pass to your child. When late at night, he allowed himself some confessions, a whisper of a daughter to name Gabriella, and all the things he would teach her.

And even though here your treehouse was never built, and you spoke a little differently than he remembered, your dream remained, and Gabriella, your pride and joy since before she was even born, was alive in your arms.

Of course, to preserve the perfection, both of you had to look the other way more than once, and act as if you could not see the dark, obvious truths.

Miguel refused to even attempt to explain why the husband you had thought you knew everything about, suddenly began waking up screaming every other night, why he had nightmares so dark his chills only went away at daybreak. Why he held you as if you would vanish without a warning, why his eyes seemed unable to ever stray from you for more than a few seconds at a time, why he refused to let you walk alone at night as if the world itself would cave in if you did. Why, when you happily recalled events of your shared past, he didn't chime in as much as he used to, why when Gabriella asked all about how you met, your first kiss and your wedding day, he let you do all the talking; You'd have thought his love was diminishing if he didn't smile through every memory as if the sun itself had blossomed on his lips, if he didn't look at the two of you as if you were the meaning of life given form.

So, it was easy to ignore the paranoia, and the fear in his eyes. The way he seemed to walk cautiously through every action, as if afraid to step on fate's toes, and you could not begin to think of a single reason why he would, why he could not look at you without fearing that one wrong movement could rip all this happiness out of his fists all over again.

Miguel would not allow, if it was the last thing he ever did, all the years spent together you could not remember, and all the memories you had of him he had not lived through, to be a problem. He could learn how to be the Miguel you loved… the one that wasn't Spider-Man.

Until the problem became fate itself.

Unknown to him at the time, breaking the Canon is not a forgivable action. When he had substituted himself to the Miguel of your Earth, he had interfered with destiny itself, and that was one more mistake he'd regret for the rest of his life to add to the already long heavy list.

When the world started crumbling around you, even with all his power, all Miguel could do was hold his family close and hope that he could at least shield you from the disaster. But as usual, his hopes are in vain and his prayers go unanswered, as everything he has ever wanted disappears right in front of his eyes once more.

And exactly like the last time, you prove yourself kind above anything else; kind when you whisper sweet reassurances in Gabriella’s ears, kind when you worry over his well being, kind when all you fear for is your family even when the one closest to fading out of existence is you, and Miguel is perfectly fine. Kinder then he could ever deserve, when even then, you keep looking at him relieved to see him alright.

“It’s going to be alright mis amores, I promise.” And though he means every single shaky word that comes out of his mouth, you look at him with tenderness and resignation in your eyes, as if you knew better, as if you pitied the day he'll realize the truth. But your daughter relaxes slightly in your hold, and the last thing he sees before you disappear is the grateful smile you give him.

Once again, Miguel had lost everything because of himself.

In a twisted way, sometimes he wanders which time was harder: the first time, when he had actually thought himself invincible, when he firmly believed the two of you capable of a happy ever after, what an idiot, or the second time, when he already knew what it felt like to lose you, when he calculated each and every one of his actions to prevent it from happening again, when he had even more to protect then the first time. He could never give himself an answer.

But the truth is, Miguel can't accept what he has lost. Can't accept that it is over, no matter how much he knows you’d want him to. Can't accept that the more he tries to fight fate, the harder his losses hit, the harder it fights back.

Maybe it is the broken promises that hurt the most, each one of them a failure, a reminder that no matter how powerful he becomes and no matter how much he tries, he’ll never be able to keep you by his side. But although Miguel is many things, many of which he is not proud of, he is not a quitter.

He spends most of his time since your death carefully erecting a Spider Society, to help prevent what happened to you, because of him, to happen anywhere else. Because who else other than him could do it? Who else knows the consequences, the destruction, as intimately as him? Who else could shoulder this responsibility better than the man with nothing left to lose?

And although Miguel does try not to think of you too often, you never, not for a second, leave his mind. And neither does the idea of trying again, of doing right by you, this time.

When she figures out what he has been silently planning, Lyla tries to dissuade him the best she can, afraid that if you were to die in his arms one more time, there would be nothing, no part of Miguel left to salvage. He hears none of it.

No matter how much she begs him to see reason, she cannot get him to even think of it before dismissing all of her concerns, and that is when Lyla realizes that the only thing that is keeping Miguel moving forward, that is keeping him together, is the idea of being reunited with you. So she keeps her mouth shut, afraid he might break if she didn’t, and never once stops fearing the day history will repeat itself, and put the final nail in his coffin.

When he finds you again Miguel is at the end of his rope, and it is starting to become plain to see for everyone around him. Keeping the multiverse together pretty much single handedly, no matter the ridiculous amount of spiders he recruits, is all but draining what little life he had left out of him, and the thought of being able to hold you again is the only thing that keeps him from crashing. Every single free second he has, that become less and less the further apart the Multiverse falls, is spent looking for you.

Then Miguel O’Hara falls in love with you one last time, more desperately than he ever has before, and not only your Earth but Destiny itself shake because of it.

This time, much has changed. Miguel is no longer the man you have fallen for time and time again, he is something a little twisted now, something unfamiliar. He is a man weighed down by his losses, and he knows that it will only take you one look at him to realize that, he can only hope you'll be willing to look away once more.

Still, nothing else matters when he finds you; you're all he can think of. He looks at you and his lungs fill with air for the first time since you went.

You are different too, he can tell even from afar, your style is different, the way you carry yourself is different, but most of all, your eyes are much sadder than he remembers and for a second he can't help but wonder if you've lost him too. If this is what you look like when you're the one left behind.

The answer to that question comes quickly. For as much as he wants nothing more in the world than run straight into your arms and never leave again, he makes himself wait long enough to observe. His assumptions were wrong, this Earth's Spider-Man is alive, you aren't alone… although you might as well be.

He should have left, the moment he found out you already had him, he should have left. And he would have, would have left you to your life, keeping his damned claws out of it, would have left this Earth, if with an unsalvageable heart, and never looked back, if only you were happy here. But you aren't, he has seen it.

Had he spent just a little less time watching you, observing, making sure you were content and safe, had he left any sooner, he would have never even known you already had a Miguel. Because your, and that word tastes acidic in his mouth, Miguel is far more content being Spider-Man than he is spending time with you.

In the two weeks Miguel has been… watching over you, your boyfriend, he took the time to check for a ring on either one of your fingers, the pendejo couldn't even bother to marry you, has missed a grand total of four date nights, a frankly uncountable amount of calls, and has made you worry sick in front of the TV watching the news for updates on his health. Miguel’s blood boils just thinking about it, and by the defeated gaze you've been wearing the entire time, this is nothing new.

He doesn't cherish you, that is an obvious truth. He has no idea how much he could lose, has no idea just how much could be ripped away from his fingers, regardless of how good of a Hero he becomes, he doesn't even realize that you are without a shred of doubt the best thing that ever has or ever will happen to him. Miguel has never wanted to punch another version of himself so badly in his entire life.

If something were to happen to you, your Miguel would not find out about it for who knows how long, Hell, he has been watching you for weeks without him noticing, if he were to take you away right now he… Miguel, he would treat you right, he would give you all of his love and attention, every second of his time. You would never be left wanting for anything, least of all him. He knows exactly how important you are, exactly what it feels like when you're taken away and the world caves under him, on top of him, loses all its meaning.

He doesn't let himself think, not even for a moment, that in your original timeline he might have acted the same, just as cold and uncaring. Doesn't want to think that he might have left you sitting all night on a stiff couch, waiting for someone that will never arrive, doesn't want to think that he might have been the cause of the cascades of silent sobs that inevitably follow in the morning, when you're left with broken promises and not even a text to greet you. And most of all he doesn't want to think that you might have loved him anyway, through every slight, unconditionally.

He doesn't want to think of it and so he doesn't, even though it weighs heavy in the back of his mind as he prepares for the mission he has dubbed "your rescue".

The plan is simple, all too easy for him, that has already pretended to be another version of himself before, just to be by your side, always to be by your side. This is nothing but a… tiny inconvenience. He only has to pretend to be your boyfriend, your sorry, changed boyfriend, and convince you to follow him. He'll explain what he can later, once you're settled in the home you used to share in your original dimension that he still lives in.

Things will be rough for a while, he won't pretend otherwise, this change is going to need some time to get used to, but you will be loved, and he will be complete, and whatever it takes it will all work out in the end.

Miguel doesn't think of the ways it ended before, there is no need, he knows better now. This time it will work out because he wouldn't survive if it didn't, because there is nothing, nothing he would not do, nobody he would stop at to keep you alive. And most of all he doesn't think of your baby girl, of the daughter he has lost that you've never even met, soon enough it won't matter anyway. With you in his arms once more, the way it was always meant to be, he will make absolutely sure that you will have all the time in the world to bring Gabriella back.

When he gathers enough courage to enter your apartment, the smell of you that he has missed so dearly hits him in the guts so hard he has to keep himself from doubling over. The tears in his eyes are a little harder to conceal, but he hopes they might play in his favor, as he sees you hurry towards the door with a shout of his name, and he braces himself for your screams. You have every reason to be angry, you don't know any better, if you want to chew him up he will let you without complaint.

Still, the anger never comes. Even though you should want to punch him in the face, and you look like you do, you run to hug him with no hesitation, relieved. There are tears streaming down your face and you're looking at him as if he had stabbed you with his own hands, Miguel’s anger reaches an all time high at the sight. There is no time to find your boyfriend for a… stern talking to, not now that you need him, but his blood won't cool down anytime soon. In the future, he just might come back for a visit.

When he looks at you, his expression is softer than you've ever seen it, even he would know that, and he's holding you with the gentleness and care of a porcelain doll, he has to stop his hands from trembling when he raises them to caress your face. The curve of your nose is slightly different, he notes distractedly. He should have known better than to think you'd let your anger show, he had always been the one to scream and rage, and you had your tears and silent disappointment. He is left wondering which one hurt the other the most, the thought goes away just as fast as it came, he won't let any of this ever happen again.

“Miguel, are you alright?” your voice is soft, tentative, like you know that there's something different, that something has changed, subconsciously you probably do. It's enough to gather Miguel's complete attention, and that must be strange as well.

“Of course querida, forgive me for making you worry.” he hasn't felt this good since the last time he held you.

“I thought you had to stay at work late today.”

“Yes, well, it was about time I came home for a while. I missed you.” you can't begin to imagine how profoundly he means that.

“A while?” you sound so hopeful it breaks his heart, and renews his conviction, he couldn't bear to leave now, not without you.

“I was thinking of… a little vacation of sorts, a lengthy one. To spend some time together, make up for lost time.” then as an afterthought, because of all the things he's done and should apologize for this isn't one of them, he adds “Para mostrarte cuanto lo siento.”

You don't seem to hear the way he sounds a little out of his mind, don't see that what was supposed to be a reassuring smile looks more like a manic grin. He can't find it in himself to care, even though Lyla is here too, and she's looking at him with pity and a hint of badly disguised fear in her eyes. She shouldn't be able to show, or feel, this much emotion yet she does, and he lets her. It's good to see himself reflected into someone else's eyes, even when he blinds himself to it.

When you smile at him as if he'd just handed you the world, happy laughter filling the room that makes Miguel's breath hitch in his throat, he knows he has done the right thing. This time, he'll protect your kindness to his last breath, to anyone else's last breath, you'll never have to part again. Miguel laughs with you, a sound even he had forgotten, and holds you tight to his chest, as if he could hide you in it and protect you from all harm. All he can think of, as you leave, is that if your Earth were to collapse because of it, right in front of his eyes, at least you'd be safe. At least you'd be safe.

#phantasmagoria and storytelling 🥀#gender neutral reader #gn reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fic #spider verse fanfic #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel x reader

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hamiltonfilms · 1 year

Text

I dress for revenge 💋 star in nyc

INSTAGRAM AU/STORY

pairing : Arthur Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

summary : because of arthur your heart is broken you think he doesn't care about you

warning: kinda smut, adult language, protective older brother max, alcohol, Arthur is a dick, crying, mention of cheating, some dialogue from euphoria because it fit here, Horner

a/n: so I decided to write a continuation so keep reading and I hope you like it, if you want to be tagged let me know, remember that these events and characters were invented and did not exist like Dennis' cheating girlfriend <3 Also remember that English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes and sorry for mistakes but dutch is partly from the translator and partly by me hahah

part 1 / part 2

Sunday 19:01

"fuck" were the only words I said when I saw what time it was. Dennis was already waiting at the door, knocking.

"Just a minute because I'm not ready" I let him in while giving him a hug. "It's okay and one more thing you look gorgeous"

All I did was smile and went on to get ready, even though I p3, it still needs to be celebrate. I knew my brother and his bunch of idiot friends would be there too, which wasn't a very happy thing for me. My mood sucked I didn't really want to go to that club but even less did I want to feel my heart breaking In fact I don't want to feel anything so I stick to it to get drunk and feel like any girl my age. Now I only have one little case or more missions in my little black dress that's too tight, today I don't care about Arthur, only me that counts.

"Everything's fine suddenly you somehow thought?" it was even sweet. My friendship with Dennis was strange and misunderstood to some people at first everyone thought we were a couple but it never was, even though I admit that at the beginning of karting I had a crush on him.

"Yeah it's ok, will you help me with the necklace" He just smiled and got out of bed and helped me. He hugged me and I felt better again "you look really good like a bitch who will show the boy where he belongs" I turned to him and smiled too "Denny sometimes I wonder if I deserve you and until earlier today my look is revenge"

I sat on the passenger side of Dennis' car and we headed towards the club where everyone was supposed to be, I looked at the clock in the car and it was 7:40 pm I thought we wouldn't be late much, it's almost nothing. The road didn't take long so we quickly went inside and I saw our group but we had to go first past my brother's friends I felt heightened even someone whistled at me but I saw Max's overprotective gaze which didn't bode well. Suddenly I heard a whistle at me but already in our group of friends it was Jüri so I just smiled "what a chick. I'm sorry Dennis who is your companion?"

"It's sweet Jüri, you won't know your biggest nightmare in life and on the track" I started laughing with the whole group and I already had time to say hello to everyone "God what did you do with our sweet shy y/n?" Jüri was joking but I didn't mind it even funny because everyone expected me dressed in trousers and some kind of T-shirt and instead I had makeup stylized hair black little tight dress and heels which is the opposite of me but in the end I looked similar to girls of other drivers. I felt the jealous eyes not only of Arthur but also of some of Max's friends looking at me from top to bottom but I didn't care today this evening was mine and I was supposed to be the center of attention. But I could exaggerate, for example, I mixed alcohols instead of drinking only one here a little vodka, champagne, whiskey, beer or even some strange colored drinks.

Suddenly I got dizzy so I went out onto the patio, sat on the ground and tried to light a cigarette, which probably wasn't sensible under the influence of alcohol. Suddenly, I felt someone approaching me, I didn't really look who because I honestly didn't care. "Hi you look very cute" at first I thought it was some old creep but I saw in the corner of my eye it was Pierre so I tried to ignore him but he wouldn't let go. "fuck off Pierre I'm not interested" but that only made him smile which didn't mean anything good. "You pretend to be untouchable I like it as much as you in that dress" he placed his hand on my thigh which gave me goosebumps and made me uncomfortable but just in time my brother showed up "hey get your hands off her asshole" he crouched down to me and he had already gone "look at me, are you okay? did he manage to do anything to you besides what I saw how it would kill the son of a bitch" I heard a note of aggression in his voice but it was loved as much because he always defended me as needed "not everything ok but it was scary, go have fun don't worry about me i'll be going back to the hotel anyway" all i saw was a smile on his face "sure princess but if you are in danger or need to be taken away call me." it was cute he always called me princess when i was younger and took care of me. But I went back to the party with Dennis, who seemed curious as to why I wasn't around so much. "My excuse for why I wasn't that much was because I probably could have been dragged to fuck but luckily Max saved me and I'm partially sober so I need a drink" Dennis immediately spit out what he was drinking shocked as he realized "What are you okay? do you want to go back to the hotel?” I looked at him with a slight smile "give me a minute because I want to stay longer" he nodded and went back to talking to someone. "Ugh. Tequila makes me want to dance." it flowed out of my mouth "so dance with me" I heard Denny tell me so I jumped up as did he. He put his hands on my waist and I on his shoulders and we started to dance I noticed that everyone started to be jealous but Arthur probably the most because he turned red and went somewhere and all I heard was a chit in my ear "we made it" which made a slight giggle from my lips. I thanked for the dance and went to the restroom before I was alone, someone accosted me and I heard "Who the hell do you think you are?" I turned around and saw it was Arthur. "I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about" and I tried to walk away but he wouldn't let go and I heard something that hurt me. " You think I'm here because I'm interested in you? What do you have to say? Or what do you think about different things like you're so damn interesting? Hey. I'm going to be honest with you because no one else will. Any guy who says, that he's interested in more than just fucking you, he's full of shit. So good luck with your boyfriend." I started to cry because it was true it couldn't be "Wow that bitch can cry" it was too much I couldn't take it anymore

"You know what I honestly wouldn't give a shit what you said but I don't you act like a fucking punk then all of a sudden she's your girlfriend, she's Dennis's ex-girlfriend who cheated on him not that she didn't do it now cuz look in the restroom next door cuz she's fucking some dude right now and she was only into your brother that's why she was with you from what she said you know what it doesn't matter today I don't care about such a dick like you so fuck off" I felt good when I finally said it and left "y/n sorry stop I didn't mean to" all I did was stick my middle finger out at him and went looking for Dennis.

"I'm going to the hotel, let's see it's 4.06 am and I have a flight to Monaco at 4 pm so see you at the next race and have a nice winter break" I said goodbye to everyone and went with Denny to the car and briefly told him the whole situation and I only heard how I finished "What did he say?! what a dick he is, hey remember that's not true we all like you for your personality jokes or professionalism at the track" a smile appeared on my face. He walked me to the door and he went to his room. I had changed my clothes, washed off my makeup and tied my hair comfortably. Even before going to bed, I managed to quickly post on insta from today.

y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged: dennis_hauger oscarpiastri juri_vips liamlawson30

yn/verstappen After Hour

see all comments

dennis_hauger cool kids never sleep, they just party

yn/verstappen of course, what did you think?

yourbestfriend what did you do with my y/n where is it?

yn/verstappen here and where do you think?

y/nlovver yass we need more y/n in this context

arthurandy/nfanss y/n in her heartbreak era!! our queen slaying icon

13.03 pm

I heard quite a loud knock on the door which was quite an unusual thing especially in a hotel so I got out of bed but unfortunately my hangover kicked in so the knocking became quite intrusive. "What exactly can I help you with, god Max you couldn't call or something" I gestured him inside and quickly closed the door.

"yet as if you were replying or answering! What a hangover appeared" you could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Get on it because at 7pm I arranged for you to meet Horner because he wanted to so you can thank me because your career may have advanced" he made that proud father smile I've almost never seen in my life. He sat down and waited for me to get up because we were going to have something like lunch this morning anyway, but let's just say my hangover kept me in bed. Looking at the watch on the phone, it was 2 pm, so it's not that bad so we'll have time to eat something before the meeting. the flight passed peacefully I even managed to get some sleep and do my makeup to make myslef look better than now but my flight to monaco was changed to the UK due to a meeting which made me a little stressed I won't say no but I managed to post a few stories.

y/nverstappen added to story

Red Bull Racing headquarters at 7pm

it was 6:58 p.m. and I was standing in front of the office waiting for them to let me in. I felt my legs turn to cotton when it was my turn. I shook my hand to say hello and took a seat. "So y/n I won't beat around the bush you are one of the brightest people on our junior team so we thought we would offer you this project" what came out of Horner's shocked me a bit.

"Wow thank you so much and I think I'll take the offer no matter what it is." I was excited enough that I didn't care what it was and I was going to take it anyway. He explained to me what it would be like, in short, I would drive the car around New York, they would record it and present the Red Bull Racing junior team to the world. However, I didn't have much time because I had to fly out tomorrow, of course I can take Max with me because I found that he is experienced in all this and is my older brother.

"I can't believe my sweet little sister y/n in my car still in New York! You don't even know how proud I am of you" I was shocked because I thought Max would get mad that they would put me in his car with his number on and they say he's proud still.

It was 11 pm and I just entered the apartment monaco was a place I missed but I will spend here until March 18 and we have November 21 of course I will be leaving, like now to nyc. I have a flight tomorrow at 12 am but my brother will pick me up. I finally had time for myself, unpacked the suitcase, put on the laundry and then the dryer and packed up and went to sleep. The alarm clock rang me at 6 am because I need to take care of myself, I got dressed I went for a run after I came back I ate breakfast I took a shower and got dressed it was 8 o'clock so max will arrive in two and a half hours so I decided to watch some series. This time will pass quickly and I don't even know when I found myself on the plane, if this is how my life will look like now, but at least I know what max was up to now. Browsing through instagram, I came across a post and I laughed, I showed my brother because he looked at me with an incomprehensible look, all I heard was "They haven't even been a couple for a week, y/n tell me you didn't do it" I laughed "No of course not" he looked at me seriously " I swear I didn't contribute to this" I went back to instagram.

motosportgossip

liked by arthurandy/nonly pierregasly arthurfan and others

tagged arthur_leclerc randomgirl

motosportgossip our new paddock couple has officially announced the end of their relationship is there a reason why?

see all comments

arthurandy/nforever I respect Arthur but maybe it's time for y/n and him now?

arthurfanss liked by pierregasly?

pearpierre maybe Pierre will give us details, eh?

nlvogue

liked by y/nverstappen, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged : y/nverstappen

nlvogue Y/n Verstappen en haar verschijning in het laatste nummer van Vogue, beschrijft de jonge Formule 2-coureur hoe moeilijk het was om een vrouw te zijn in een sport als f2, terwijl ze toegeeft hoe graag ze vrouw is. Racen is altijd een ontsnapping geweest, en hij geeft toe dat het een stuk makkelijker was met zijn broer aan zijn zijde. Opgegroeid in de racewereld, zus van Max Verstappen, maar vooral bekend om haar geweldige capriolen op de baan, ook wel "black Widow" genoemd of gewoon onze Y/n Verstappen.

Begin december gaat het officieel in de verkoop

see all comments

y/nverstappen Ik ben trots op wat uit deze samenwerking naar voren is gekomen 😉

dennis_hauger I don't understand a thing but I'm still proud of you bestie ❤

user33 y/n and vogue and Dutch makes me look forward to more

arthurandy/nfan Arthur liked?!

y/nleclercshouldbe something must be up

...

arthur_leclerc added to story

...

y/nverstappen added to story

tagged maxverstappen1, danielricciardo

...

redbullracing

liked by maxverstappen1, y/nverstappen danielricciardo arthur_leclers and others

tagged y/nverstappen

redbullracing we are officially announcing that on March 3rd there will be a new video of the junior project of the red bull team with y/n verstappen who will test our new cars on the streets of new york especially this car number 33 😉💪

see all comments

y/nverstappen I'm grateful and I hope it's not the last time haha

y/nloverr y/n driving for red bull still in Max's car and she in the new edition of vogue too much for today

maxverstappen1 I hope my car is in one piece y/n

y/nverstappen do you think i am you?

dennis_hauger I'm proud of you kid

y/nverstappen not that we are the same age but thanks for keeping me in your heart bestie 😘

y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others

tagged: yourbestfriend maxverstappen1 redbullracing

yn/verstappen Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

see all comments

redbullracing 💪

yourbestfriend karma is your boyfriend

yn/verstappen of course karma is my boyfriend what did you think

arthur_leclerc Nice jacket I guess

yn/verstappen thanks i guess

y/nleclercshouldbe artur likes and comments again?

user567 maybe they are together but i don't think so

...

----

taglist : @vinylbycas @pospolites-blog @kazikiscool @honethatty12

a/n: wow it came out a bit long but wait for the next parts hah again sorry for mistakes and if you want to be tagged under the next part then text me.

#arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #f1 instagram au #social media au #instagram au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #fake instagram #dennis hauger x reader #dennis hauger #instagram edit #hamiltonfilms

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lalal-99 · 2 months

Text

of new friendship {h.j.} | track 3

©June 2023, March 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: The one where you go to a Jackson Wang party.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: As promised, this chapter is much shorter than the last. The next will, again, have 6k, but after that, chapters will be shorter (I think). Also, I wrote the most angsty and heartbreaking chapter yesterday and I can't wait to post it when it's due. Hope you enjoy this :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

You couldn’t remember the last party you had been to.

A real party, with crates of alcohol, loud music, and drunk people, that was.

Throughout your early teen years it had been a regular part of your week. Getting drunk, befriending strangers and making mistakes. You left no party within reach unattended, no matter the people or their willingness to provide alcohol to minors. You had figured out ways to always get what you wanted in the end. And what you wanted at that time was to drink away any and every one of your brain cells.

With a little luck it would be the very one that made you remember the grief of losing a parent.

Whenever you told people about those days, it was as an explanation to why you rarely drank now. Most people also thought Jisung had helped you overcome that part of your life. It would have fit right into their version of a romantic love story—girl sad, girl meets boy, boy fixes girl. Happy end.

Most people couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jisung, like yourself, was plagued by his very own share of suffocating pain. And he too wanted to forget, desperately. In meeting you, he found someone who was right as troubled, maybe even more so. Thus, a toxic relationship formed, the two of you soon becoming the life of every party you attended.

Any party you went to, you became the centre of. Be it a friend’s party, a friend’s sibling’s party, or a stranger’s party one of your mutual friends had heard about god-knows-where. Surrounded by a crowd of people, both your age and older, you became the main source of entertainment. Making people laugh and providing them with memories they wouldn’t forget. Because which other two 14-year-olds could keg-stand and funnel like grown-ups?

You weren’t proud of it, but at the same time, it was as much part of your story as everything before and after. The darkest part, filled with pain, rage, and the simple desire to forget, yes. But a part never less.

Those times were long gone; life had caught up to you at some point.

Despite your party-animal-past, a shiver ran down your back when the frat house appeared on the horizon.

People gathered on the porch, on the stairs leading up to it, and on the lawn, smoking, drinking, and making out. Whatever stereotypical frat-party scenario you could have come up with played out right in front of your eyes.

You lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold. Unsure how to approach the evening or if you even still wanted to. Hadn’t it been for Yuqi taking matters into her own two hands and dragging you inside... Well, you would have turned around and chosen the safety of your room instead.

Your partying days sure had passed.

When you entered the house, a thick veil of warmth and sweat hit you, a breath of nausea taking over your being. A sea of people was stumbling from room to room, up the stairs or towards you, in a desperate search for fresh air. If you planned on staying here for the next few hours, you’d need a drink. Or five.

Yuqi turned towards you, excitement evident on her face, “Wanna look for Jisung?”

“Drinks first!” you yelled back, her nod telling you she had understood. Surprising, seeing someone had cranked the bass right up to 11.

With your hand in hers, Yuqi pulled you through the crowd until you reached the kitchen. It was less crowded than the rest of the house, meaning you had a safe haven you could come to if things got too much. Judging from the tension in your back not even five minutes in, you’d need it at some point.

You didn’t pay too much attention to the people around you. The couple making out on the counter or the group chatting on the other side of the room. Instead, your gaze focused on the beers in the ice-filled sink. A sigh of relief escaped you as the cold, bitter liquid ran down your throat. The first half of the bottle, you emptied in that initial gulp.

You must have needed this more than you noticed.

“Impressive,” Yuqi praised you, her lips wrapping around her own bottle for a less eager sip. “Remind me never to face you in a drink-off.”

“Trust me, my drink-off days are far behind me.”

Your voice startled one of the people standing by the side, a familiar face snapping towards you. “Y/N?”

You found Hwasa leaning against the counter, a surprised expression taking over her features.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Your roomie had told you she’d be going out tonight too. Although you hadn’t expected her to be at the same party you had been dragged into. Pulling you into a hug, a few of her locks tickled your nose. “Jisung got invited by an old friend.”

“And you brought my new favourite person! Hi!” Hwasa greeted Yuqi with another bone-crushing hug. To an outsider, it must have looked like you hadn’t seen each other for years rather than yesterday.

“Don’t call me your favourite person, or I will cry.”

The smile on Yuqi’s face spread from one ear to the other as she let go of your roommate. After a few shorts hours spent with her, she had opened up to you about how difficult it usually was for her to make friends. Similar to Jisung, her quirky persona more times than not scared people off. Befriending not one but two people within the first week on campus, her happiness was understandable.

“So, who’s the mystery friend that invited you here? Wait, don’t tell me! I’m gonna guess. Is it Chris? He knows, like, everyone.” You shook your head, never having heard that name in your life. Scratching her chin with two perfectly manicured fingernails, Hwasa pondered. “Matthew? He’s been around for a while.” Again, you didn’t know who she was talking about.

This game could have taken forever. There were about 300 people who could have invited you, judging from the crowd inside this house. Though the fun was cut short when the door to the kitchen opened, and a familiar face entered the scene. Just like you remembered, he was followed by a crowd of eager people. Ever the centre of everything.

“No way! Am I dreaming? Y/N! I can’t believe you came.”

You startled when he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him with reluctance. You hadn’t seen him in over two years, and this was how he decided to greet you? A hug? Thinking about it, you had probably hugged him only a handful of times in your lifetime. Your birthday, maybe. Or Christmas.

“Hi, Jackson.”

He let go of you, momentarily staying in your proximity before stepping back.

He looked good, face clean-shaven and hair pulled back by a baseball cap. His clothes told the same story they always did. Rich guy with swagger, Gucci earrings somehow accentuating his baggy clothing. Jackson, for all you remembered, had always dressed like this. Drenching his aura in handsome.

“How is everyone? How’s the fam?”

“Everyone is perfect. Healthy, happy.”

Despite your best efforts to sound nonchalant, you couldn’t help the undertone of spite. Jackson seemed to understand the secret message, nodding as his lips pressed into a thin line.

You wanted to be nice to him as you were aware he was a good person at heart. But after everything, you couldn’t help being a little bitter still.

Hwasa—oblivious to a fault—interrupted the awkward shift this conversation had taken and you silently thanked the heavens. “You know each other?”

“What? You do, too?” Jackson replied, pointing between the two of you, ever the Spiderman-meme. “How?”

“We’re roommates.”

Emptying your first bottle, you pulled a second one out of the sink, opening it on the marble of the kitchen island. A party trick from back in your heyday you never quite unlearned.

“What? That’s crazy!” Jackson seemed genuinely surprised. He pulled his baseball cap off his head and repositioned it over a few loose strands. “Small world.”

“How about you?” you threw the question back to them.

“We’re—” Jackson cut himself off, eyes meeting Hwasa’s as they toasted their bottles. A quick wink, and he finished his contextually unbelievable description of their relationship. “Friends.”

Hwasa choked on her drink, laughing at his words as if it was the funniest thing she had heard all year. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

You remembered Yuqi, who was leaning against the counter beside you, perfectly quiet as she listened. Probably the quietest you had seen her since you met her. And that included the courses you visited together.

“Fine. We used to hook up. Happy?” Jackson corrected his previous statement. The wink he had sent Hwasa made way more sense now.

“Almost. You seem to have forgotten the part in which you fell hopelessly in love with me.”

Your eyes focused on the two of them. Could Hwasa be the girl? No way! That would have been too big of a coincidence.

“Okay, you are blowing that way out of proportion.” Chuckling at her words, Jackson positioned himself so that he was now facing her. “I had a little crush on you.”

“Exactly. What I said.”

Huffing, Jackson shook his head, pulling Hwasa into a side hug of sorts. Good thing Wheein wasn’t around to witness this flirtatious moment. Her absence explained why Hwasa even let someone come close to her like this. Her girlfriend’s presence seemed to put her a little on edge. Like Hwasa was in constant hope she wouldn’t do something to offend Wheein. Or, God forbid, make her think she was anything but faithful.

“We broke things off, and now—”

“We’re besties,” Hwasa ended his statement, patting his chest as they smiled at each other.

It couldn’t have been silent for more than five seconds before Jackson unwrapped his arm from his bestie. He fetched himself a fresh bottle out of the sink.

“Anyways,” throwing you and Yuqi a kind smile, Jackson turned to his friends. They were still gathered behind him, talking over each other with loud laughter. “It was nice seeing you again. I hope you and Sungie have a great night. Let me know if you need anything.”

Making his way out of the room, he left you to yourselves, sipping on your bottle like you hadn’t just emptied the last one. “Good luck finding him if you need anything. Jackson won’t be in the same room for longer than a minute.”

There was no need to tell you that.

At every party he had ever thrown, Jackson had always been nowhere and everywhere, all at once. You distinctly remembered searching for an hour once before eventually finding him where you had started. How he did it, no idea, but he sure was a pro at it.

“Let me get back to my friends. I’ll see you later?”

Nodding, you turned towards Yuqi, who had about 100 questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. The second you were on your own, she erupted like a waterfall.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” As if she would buy that. There was no way you didn’t know what she was talking about. Your body language had been very see-through throughout that whole interaction. Arms crossed, lips tight, brows cocked.

“Don’t play me, bitch!” A term of endearment, you had learned. “There was so much tension, I thought I was in Riverdale for a sec.”

You laughed at her words, shaking your head. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Alright.” Yuqi accepted, but not before getting at least one last statement out in the open. “He’s smoking hot, but whatever he did to you, I would not want to be him.”

The two of you left the kitchen on a seemingly impossible quest to find your boyfriend. You forced your way through the crowd until you reached a less dense section of the room. Only then you noticed a group of people a little further back, right by a window.

You motioned for Yuqi to follow you as you approached the couches. Your boyfriend’s mop of brown hair remained the centre of your vision.

Jisung was deep in conversation with a boy beside him while Felix listened to them. Apart from them, a handful of other boys spread over the couches. The ones that didn’t fit, sat comfortable on chairs. Seeing Jisung in a sea of people he didn’t know, talking like it’s all he was born to do, you almost didn’t want to intrude.

“Bro! Babe Alert!”

The boy next to Jisung was the first to notice you approaching. It took a lot in you to push your amusement at his obliviousness down.

As Jisung’s head followed his friend’s gaze, he gasped out a loud “Yah!” before giving the boy next to him a slap against the bulky arm.

“Dude, that’s my girlfriend.”

“Oops.”

All eyes were on you as you waved at the group. You introduced yourself while sitting on the armrest beside your boyfriend. Yuqi joined your other side, and introduced herself before leaning against you.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Jisung confessed, hand coming to your thigh, squeezing it in adoration.

“You are?”

When you looked at Jisung, you noticed the guy beside him, eyes threatening to bulk out of their sockets. Staring at Yuqi, no less. After a few seconds, he realised he’d been caught and blushed. By pulling Felix into a conversation, he hoped to cover up his interest in your friend.

The girl in question was too deep in her interaction with one of the boys on the chairs to notice. He soon offered her half of his seat, which she accepted while discussing his choice of—footwear? She really seemed to know her way around the closet.

“Yes. Because someone didn’t believe you were real.” Jisung’s eyes darted towards a boy on the other couch whose blonde tresses were pulled into a loose ponytail. “What do you say now, Hyunjin? My hot girlfriend is real.”

“That’s how you describe me to people? Hot?” You didn’t know whether to be mad or flattered.

“Just so we’re clear,” the boy, Hyunjin, chimed in, “it wasn’t the hot part I didn’t believe. It was the whole concept of a girlfriend I was questioning. But you are real, apparently. So I owe Felix ten bucks.”

Laughing at Hyunjin’s cluelessness, your boyfriend couldn’t hide his amusement. “Felix already met her, stupid! You got pranked good, dude.”

Hyunjin’s jaw was on the floor at the new discovery, gaze dramatically cutting to the boy in question.

As the two of them exchanged money and ridicule, you caressed Jisung’s thigh in adoration. A sense of pride filled you at how he had somehow already found a way out of his shell. University seemed to have a positive impact on him, the first week progressing smoother than you had anticipated. Regardless of how he made so many friends this early on, you were glad he did.

“So, who are your friends?”

Gaze wandering through the circle, Jisung introduced the boys one after another. Starting from the one sitting next to Yuqi.

“That’s Seungmin. He’s an English major.”

The boy conversed with Yuqi as though they had known each other for years. He had puppy-brown hair, parted in the middle and cut even on all sides in a fashionable bowl-cut. Two strands of light-blonde framed his face, rounding off an otherwise innocent appearance. His clothes were simple, t-shirt and cargo pants hanging loose on his lean shape.

“Next to him is Jeongin. He’s studying to become—something biology. Honestly, I didn’t understand what he does. It’s all about mitochondria and other boring stuff.”

A little more on the shy side, Jeongin followed Seungmin and Yuqi’s dialogue instead of creating his own. Like Seungmin, he clothed casual. Standing out was his thick pink hair, which contrasted his initial timid demeanour. A something-biology student with pink hair? Very eye-catching.

“On the couch, that’s Hyunjin, Minho and Chris. Hyunjin is studying art history, and Minho majors in dancing. Chris is a Music major.”

Hyunjin, the one who got pranked out of ten bucks—by Felix, out of all people—was clad in a more fashionable outfit. His grey jeans he had paired with a white button-up, a multitude of jewellery decorating his fingers and neck. Minho wore his hair in a lavender tone, a tight-fitting shirt and black leather pants. Showing off his very toned legs—a dancer, indeed. And Chris. Well, he liked his arms the size of logs, apparently. They were an unexpected contrast to his cutesy laugh, nose scrunching up as he joked with Minho.

“And the boy who can’t keep his eyes off Yuqi, that’s Changbin. Sports major. If you tell him your weight, he will send you a video of him benching it.”

“Yah, I don’t do that for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky,” Changbin interjected. Thankfully, he had only overheard the second part of Jisung’s description.

Ignoring his friend’s words, Jisung concluded his introductory round. “And you already know Felix. He’s studying to become the best teacher in the whole wide world.”

Felix ignored the mocking tone in his friend’s voice, only one of the reasons rendering him perfect for a teaching position. He stood calm whenever needed, not a word taken out of proportion. That much you had already learned from hanging out with him a handful of times. It wasn’t hard to believe, he handled children the same way he did his drunk friends.

“I’m glad you have so many friends with majors now. Maybe, they can help you decide on yours.”

Rolling his eyes at the subject you somehow couldn’t let go, Jisung pulled you from the armrest onto his lap. A tiny yelp escaped your throat, his action surprising. The two of you usually didn’t exchange PDA like that. His advances, therefore, you understood as a sign of the amount of alcohol he had already consumed.

“You will never let this go, will you?”

“Not until I know you’re not just going to university because I’m going.”

You had been gifted with so much drive to go to uni, study, become a manager. Sometimes, you forgot that some people weren’t as lucky to know what they wanted to do with their lives. Your boyfriend was one of those people.

Sure Jisung had hobbies like singing, sports and the occasional guitar session. But other than that, he was pretty clueless about his future. The two of you used to joke about it. Kidding how all the ambition and focus had gone to his sister and once he was born, there was nothing left of it. An innocent joke for as long as it hadn’t been reality.

Now that you were here and for the months leading up to your move, the joke was underlined with more seriousness.

For the longest time, Jisung hadn’t been sure he even wanted to go to university. He had debated going to work right away. Learn something handy, like electric work or nursing. That he didn’t even know a direction to go in didn’t make the decision any easier. In the end, he figured that while you were studying to go into management, he might as well join you. If anything, it could potentially give him an overview of possible fields of work.

After many discussions about your joined future and his role in it, he seemed to be over it. He wanted to explore his options—that’s what he had told you when you two enrolled. And yes, you were proud of him for getting his grades up in the last year of High School. Even if only to share this adventure with you. Though you still needed him to be a little more serious about it. Otherwise, university was four years of him exploring, ending in no degree. Four years wasted, in your eyes.

“I just want to make sure you’re thinking about it.”

“Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about, is taking you to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs.”

His breath fanned over your neck as he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your skin, his fingers gracing over your exposed hip. You hadn’t even noticed how your shirt had ridden up before his careful touch. Repositioning yourself to sit sideways on his lap, you bit your lip at his suggestion. Your hand came around his neck, fingers running through the hair at the back of it.

“We just got here,” you chuckled as his arms wrapped around your thighs.

“So?”

“Let’s enjoy the party for a bit, yeah?” Jisung knew a final decision when he heard one, a pout overtaking his face. Good thing you had already taken measures to soften the blow. Years of being with each other gave you the confidence to play your plan as you intended. “I might know a way to make the wait worth our while.”

You smirked as you retrieved a round object from your pocket and pushed it into Jisung’s hand on your thigh. A kiss to his cheek concealed your action, his eyes widening once he realised what you had handed him. A remote control. And not just any old remote control. Connecting the dots, Jisung soon understood that it controlled the matching vibrator inside you. The very same one you had bought for his most recent birthday.

Happy Birthday, indeed, and to both of you.

Judging from his expression, you figured your plan to make his patience worthwhile erected the awaited reaction. Then again, that could have also been him pocking you from below.

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 9 months

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Could I please get a Hc for Asra about an Mc that acts a lot differently after being brought back? Like maybe they were always slightly on edge all the time or were a lot harder on themselves for even little mistakes they'd make. Being more like Muriel, in the sense they never wanted to talk about their past. So when they forgot their past they were able to let go of that feeling of deep-rooted regret completely. Becoming generally a lot more relaxed and almost happier. Maybe they get their memory back of what they did but because of everything between losing their memory and getting back their able to move on. Fully forgive themselves.

The Arcana HCs: When MC's memory loss changes them

~ this was such an interesting prompt to work with, anon, thank you for sending it! - brainrot ~

Julian

He's a little conflicted, to be honest

He remembers what kind of person you used to be, back when you apprenticed at his clinic during the outbreak of the plague, and he's genuinely happy that you get to have a personal fresh start

But he also knows, from his own experience, how important it is to find closure with your past self even when that's something you can't remember properly

He also hates saying anything remotely negative (unless it's about himself - you two are working on that) so he's not going to bring it up unless you do first

If you do bring it up, he'll happily talk about it with you for as many hours as you have the energy for. He's not afraid of emotionally intense conversations, and he has personal experience to draw on

He will always, always make it clear that he accepts you no matter what and that he's with you for whatever conclusions you come to

If the time comes that your memories return and you start to process them, he is two steps ahead of you on his own journey and so ready to be your shoulder to lean on

Besides, watching you show emotional growth and self-forgiveness is super hot

Asra

Regardless of their opinions on your change, bringing up your past with you is so triggering for them that their default is to avoid it

That's not to say that he refuses to talk about how things used to be, he knows you can handle it now, but after three years of watching you fall into pain and losing you each time he's cautious

They will answer all of your questions honestly though. They don't care to keep secrets from you

And when it comes down to it, he's only as invested in your change as you are. It makes him happy to see you happy!

If that means holding onto the memories of who you used to be on your behalf, they'll do it willingly. They are far more concerned with helping you be master of your own destiny than anything else

He does panic briefly when your memories start to return

There's a weird back and forth for them between relief at seeing you become more whole and anxiety around all the ways that that could hurt you or go wrong

But he will be there for you every step of the way with cuddles and laughs and unconditional love

Nadia

She does her best to hide it, but between who she's heard of you being and who you are now she likes the new you better

Her biggest struggle in the last few years was overcoming her own uncharacteristic insecurity, and it was your confidence that helped her do that. Thinking of you another way doesn't sit so easily with her

That's not to say that she thinks any less of someone who is insecure, or that she thinks past you was somehow inferior

She just likes to leave the past in the past when a fresh start is available

That said, she's also invested in learning as much about you as you're willing to share, so if you ever want to talk about old stories she will give you her full attention and interest

If the times comes that your memories do begin to return, she'll be as gentle and empowering with you as she can

She wants you to become who you want to become, not whoever you think anybody else wants you to be. She will fiercely protect and affirm your own preferences and decisions

She is so proud of who you are and how you're growing and she's so excited to see who you become

Muriel

Honestly, if he could have the same thing happen to him, he wouldn't complain. He doesn't think so as strongly now as he did when he first saw your changed state, but it's still enticing

He likes seeing how free you've become

More than that, he likes sharing this new life with you. His past has always weighed so heavily on him that having someone like you around is a chance to think about the future instead

He's happy to listen if you want to talk about it, but he's not going to bring it up if you don't

Once you do start remembering your past again, it ends up being a lot easier for both of you than he expected

Contrary to trapping you, your memories seem to only make you more whole. Processing them isn't easy for you, but you're doing it and you're growing from and incorporating it and you're moving on

Watching you do this is reassuring him that he's on the right path as well, that it's possible to live with his memories in a way that doesn't ignore them or trap him in them or weigh him down

You two are going to do so much healing and growing together

Portia

She has a harder time accepting how things are for you

Mostly because she doesn't have the full picture. She didn't know you before the plague, so your past is just as hazy and mysterious to her as it is to you

Except that she has no idea what it's like to be missing memories. She carries her memories everywhere she goes, and the thought of you not being able to know all of who you are is really sad for her

She brings it up quite often, whether she's asking you for your theories or pumping Asra for stories about a younger you, and hearing about who you used to be makes her want to meet them

Eventually she'll come to terms with letting you allow yourself to let go of your past, even if it gives her a strange sense of defeat

She gets really excited for you when your memories begin to return and you start to talk about it

She does have these moments, when you remember something sad or painful, when she realizes that forgetting may have been a kinder thing for you

Ultimately, whoever you want to become and however you want to heal, she will support you with all her heart

Lucio

Frankly, there isn't a lot of time or space in your relationship to think much about your past

He didn't know you before the plague, and who he was before the plague is not something he's particularly interested in revisiting, and you're both quite busy building a new life from a clean slate

Who you are now is all he's known, and he likes you very much

When your memories do come back and you start to process them, it might trigger him a little bit

You're his anchor, his source of comfort and strength to confront his own past mistakes and push towards being a better person

So when the old habits you're remembering are all of you being hard on yourself for understandable, minor slip-ups, he's suddenly wondering if you're this hard on him in your own mind too

How does he know that you've really forgiven him when you struggle to forgive yourself?

Hearing his point of view helps you give yourself grace in your own process, and for him, watching you grow is truly inspiring

He wants to be better like you, and here you are living out a whole tutorial!

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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waywardcrow · 3 months

Text

Timeless.

Chapter V.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier in WWII and as the Winter Soldier in general, lots of feels, a little bit of angst, fluff, two cuties pinning after each other, 40’s!reader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

Harper sent you the most astonishing suit you had ever seen.

The color complimented your skin tone, the cut was clean and highlighted every part of your body you liked; she left a note on top too.

“This is your new beginning, Ace, go get them.”

It made you smile, still you didn’t wear it, the suit was too expensive. Your choice was one black plain pencil skirt, white blouse and simple heels. Your makeup and hairstyle wasn’t too special also, you wanted Pepper Potts to see what you were capable of beyond your fashion choices.

After making your way to the tower and making all the procedure, you met your new boss.

“Maria is going to give some training and we can get some things done as we start working together” the ginger woman said behind her desk, you gave a nod and she smiled “relax; you’re going to do great.”

You didn’t know how to relax; it wasn’t in you to be able to do it.

Maria Hill, an intimidating but efficient woman, made you sign a confidentially contract which was fine with you, you were given an enormous pile of information that made you believe you were not qualified enough for this.

“Thank you miss Potts- Pepper” you rectified, giving her a list of her things to do “miss Van Dyme is coming after lunch to discuss your partnership with Pym industries and Dr. Stephen Strange asked for an appointment tomorrow too, you have your daughter’s teacher reunion at ten so maybe after it could be a good time”

“It’s perfect, Ace” the happy tone in her words made you smile. After being so long stuck with someone who only made you feel stupid, it was nice to have some reassurance.

You both went about your day and the familiar environment of the office setting helped you to focus instead of losing it, you were working with the Avengers! Your folks barely believe it when you called them, in all honesty you almost couldn’t believe it too.

The day was easy, probably because Pepper wanted you to don’t give up and when you least expect it, it was time to go home.

“Are you sure miss- Pepper?” you asked for the millionth time, obviously going home before midnight wasn’t usual for you.

“I’m completely sure, Ace. Please go home and rest, tomorrow we have a great day” not very convinced, you did what she say and after saying goodnight you took your things and walk to the elevator.

When the doors opened your heart raced in your chest.

Sergeant Barnes smiled at you when you entered the elevator, giving you enough space between your bodies.

“Are you ok, miss?” his smile faltered and you tried to look less like an idiot.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just tired” you lied “I didn’t see you all day”

In the moment your words left your mouth, heat rushed to your cheeks, what the fuck were you doing?

“I was working on something with Sam, he can be a pain in the ass sometimes” he explained without making evident how dumb you were being. The doors opened again and he walked with you to the entrance “are you going home or-?”

“Home” it was a whisper under the city noise but he could hear you perfectly.

“Maybe I could drive you there, if you want” it sounded crazy but he almost looked shy, like you were about to reject him. For a moment, the memory of your dreams about that boy smiling at you in the moonlight came back.

“Yeah, I’d like that”

It was the right answer, his face light up and it took you a second to remember how to breathe.

Bucky directed you to his car in silence which was a good thing because your head was a complete mess, what were you doing? There was no way you could deny you felt attraction towards him but it wasn’t like you were the only one, the man was breathtaking so you were just reacting to that, it was a complete different story to think something could happen between you two.

He opened the door for you with the same politeness he let you walk first out of the elevator and your hands shook a little. It was nothing, he was a gentleman, he came from the time gentlemen were a thing, for all you knew he probably had a beautiful girlfriend waiting at home, ready to welcomed him with mind blowing sex and plans of a future together.

Being the silly hopeless romantic you were, the thought made your heart ache.

“Did you forget something at the tower?” he asked again when he started driving, Bucky looked a little concerned about you so you tried to smile.

“I’m fine, sorry, just leave me near the next subway station”

“Why would I do that? You are not going to the subway and not at this hour, little bird, it’s too dangerous” Bucky was too affronted to realize his mistake but you weren’t.

“Little bird?”

For a moment you could see how his jaw clenched, like he was scolding himself but then it was gone and he gave you a boyish smile.

“It’s ok if I call you that? Just felt appropriate, you’re sweet and small and I don’t know” he shrugged before the light turned green and then you didn’t think about anything else but how perfect it sounded that nickname in his voice.

“I’m obviously small next to you Bucky, you grew up like ivy around a stone house, don’t ya think?”

The most melodic laugh came out of him and you weren’t in his car anymore, instead it was a tent surrounding you and the chill of the autumn air around you.

You started bickering like you knew each other all your lives, he asked you about your day and then you asked about his and what had him so busy with Sam which led to something very interesting.

“Alright, in my defense I don’t go around looking for old ladies to charm” he defended himself after telling you a story about a bingo night in Louisiana with Sam and a very nice old lady who gave him her number.

“You’re a heartbreaker, Bucky Barnes” you told him holding back your laugh, he was so cute when he was all flustered, you could swear you saw him like this before.

“I used to be”

He stopped in front of your building and the sad tone in his voice made you want to reach for his hand to comfort him, despite that your hand stayed still.

“I’m pretty sure you still are, maybe you don’t find the right lady yet”

His sky blue eyes found yours, making the air inside the vehicle heavy with unspoken words. His gaze never left your face; he looked like he was fighting with himself.

“I did find her, actually” Bucky finally said and your hopes crashed against each other.

“Oh” was everything you could say.

“In the 40’s, she was… she was gone shortly after I disappeared” his voice was barely a whisper but you could hear him perfectly being that close, this time your hand closed around his.

“I’m so sorry Buck” your jealousy was long forgotten, a silly crush was nothing compared to losing someone like that, when the details of his pardon were made public they said that he was believed to be dead when in reality he was captured a second time by Hydra, you couldn’t imagine how it was for his lover to lose him twice when he was alive and suffering and for him to lose the woman he loved with everything else that monsters took from him.

A heart crushing pain that was always there hit you, your soul aching for both of them, for the young soldier Bucky was, for the woman who surely waited until her last breath to see him again.

“Please don’t cry little bird, I didn’t mean to make you cry” he wiped your tears with his hands and your skin felt hot at the contact, why were you crying? God, he surely would think you were an idiot or a fake jerk.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying” stopping was impossible but Bucky didn’t look at you like you lose your mind, instead he hugged you, rubbing circles in your back. His scent of leather and mint made you close your eyes and start to relax.

“Everything is ok little bird, you’re fine, I’m fine” he mumbled against your hair.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed down and put some space between you two.

There was concern in his beautiful face and that was normal after your behavior but there was also something more, something that made you both move towards each other before a honk startled you, making you fall from his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Barnes, I don’t know what happened to me” you apologized, taking your purse before he could say anything and getting out of the car to your department.

You didn’t stopped running until the door closed behind you.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick @moon-light1928

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Hiya! I know it's a small chapter but I was not at my best these past days but here we are, tell me what you think! And if my tags work! Please.

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst

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otdiaftg · 6 months

Text

The Raven King - Chapter Eleven

Day: Sunday, November 12th Time: 3:10 PM EST

Anytime the Foxes mentioned Andrew's upcoming sobriety or Andrew's name popped up in write-ups on the team's performance at games, the focus was on what a danger he was. People talked about his trial and how it saved them from Andrew. No one said what they were doing to save Andrew from himself. "You told me Cass would never hurt you and would have given you a good education, but you sabotaged your adoption. Officer Higgins came all the way here from the west coast to fix something from your past but you won't help him. You left juvie and killed Aaron's mother to protect him, but instead of fixing your relationship with him you keep him on a leash. You don't want Nicky's parents to hurt him, but you won't let him into your family either. Kevin promised to invest in you but you won't even try. So what is it? Are you afraid of your own happiness or do you honestly like being miserable all the time?" "Neil, look," Andrew said, and pointed up at his own face. "Do I look miserable?" Neil wanted to tear that smile off Andrew's face, but Andrew's obnoxious response wasn't entirely his fault. Neil was dealing with the smokescreen of Andrew's medication. Neither of them could change that, but knowing why Andrew was being difficult didn't make him less frustrating to deal with. All Neil could do was keep his temper in check. If Andrew got a rise from him the conversation was over. That was what Andrew wanted, so Neil wouldn't give it to him. "You look drugged within an inch of your life," Neil said, "and when you're not medicated you're drinking and dusting. When they finally take your medicine away, who are you going to hurt, really?" Andrew laughed. "I'm remembering why I don't like you." "I'm surprised you forgot." "I didn't," Andrew said. "I just got distracted for a moment there. I told her it was a mistake to let you stay, but she didn't believe me. Now look. Oh, for once I don't even want to bother with the 'I told you so'. You ruin all my fun." "Renee?" Neil guessed. "Bee." Neil's blood went cold. "What did you tell her about me?" Andrew grinned at the look on Neil's face. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Neil! But don't make such a scary face. I didn't tell her your sad little story. We just talked about you. Critical difference, yes? I told her you're more trouble than you're worth. She was looking forward to meeting you, but she won't tell me what she thinks of you. She can't, you see. But I know she likes you. Bee has a thing for lost causes." "I am not a lost cause." Denial was automatic and a waste of time. Andrew put his hand over Neil's mouth to shut him up and said, "Liar. But that's what makes you interesting. It's also what makes you dangerous. I should know better by now. Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought I was. Should I be disappointed or amused?" The perfect retort burned Neil's tongue, but he kept quiet in case Andrew wasn't done rambling. The answer was there, right out of reach, close enough Neil could feel it, but too far for him to make sense of. Maybe Andrew felt it too, because even in his drugged haze he knew to shut up. The smile he flashed Neil mocked them both at that near-miss. He withdrew completely, leaving just the memory of his heartbeat against Neil's mouth, and spun away. "I'll find Kevin. He's too slow." Neil watched him go, then huffed in frustration and turned back toward the racquet.

Art used with permission by Aymmidumps. Thank you @aymmidumps!

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rewrite-this-story · 5 months

Text

I know no one watches this show, and that's really unfortunate, but I have so many thoughts about Smash that I want to share, so you all get to either hear them or ignore this post entirely. I don't really care which.

First of all, Megan Hilty is an absolute queen!! I wish her name was more well known on Broadway because wow. Her voice is so powerful and I cry every time I hear her sing don't forget me. And I actually love ivy as a character with all my heart. She's beautiful and strong and so interesting. Yeah, she's flaws and human, but she tries so hard. I was so happy when she started getting the recognition she deserved in season 2. She makes mistakes, but then she gets back up every time. I also think she had incredible potential for directing and would have like to see that explored. She just deserved better in general.

I also don't like Karen at all. Not only is she kinda boring as a character, but she's not nearly as talented as everyone seems to think. Yeah, she's pretty and has a gorgeous voice, but she's really just a so-so actress and dancer. Her songs rarely make me feel anything like Ivy's do. At the end of season 1, I only cried during her version of don't forget me because I felt Ivy's frustration so deeply. Also, Karen is kinda rude and arrogant. Like, she has no clue how theater works but acts like everyone else is constantly out to get her just because they're asking her to do something differently. She can't remember her blocking and then complains that people don't like her. And she's so sensitive. No one can tease her or even comment anything that isn't 100% positive about her without her getting upset. Furthermore, Ivy's an interesting character who makes us really care about her because of how hard she tries and fails only to get back up again. Then, they throw in her past and emotional trauma and struggles with addiction. It's really hard not to care about and root for her. Why should I care about Karen? I liked hit list only because of Jimmy, Kyle, and even Anna. Karen didn't matter at all to me because she didn't really have to struggle or fight for anything. She was kinda just along for the ride.

Third thing, Derek sucks and is super problematic, but it was nice to see him stay to grow and improve. I would've liked to see where season 3 might've taken him. I do really like his relationship with Ivy because she calls him out on stuff, and he actually listens to her. It was dumb that he never saw how truly incredible an actress she was. They would have made a great team after she really became more sure of herself and he realized how awful he was. His obsession with Karen was really weird, but I like to imagine he probably got over it by the end of season 2.

Tom and Julia were interesting, but I was actually happy to see them split at the end of everything. She always kind of took advantage of him and it bothered me. He also deserved a real relationship story, but I'm not surprised he didn't get one since he was a gay character in 2012. His relationship with Kyle was kinda creepy and Kyle should've dated either Sam or that dancer we saw him flirting with earlier in the season. Either one of those would've been less uncomfortable. Him and Sam were also never really a good match. Plus, he did Sam kinda dirty in season 2. But yeah, he should've gotten a good relationship.

I do think Sam should've gotten the lead in hit list. He deserved it, Jimmy didn't. Jimmy did a good job, obviously, but he wasn't reliable and was really uncooperative. He could've just given feedback as a writer instead of being the lead actor. I get why they did it the way they did for the TV show, but realistically, it just didn't make sense.

Kyle's death was awful. I wish we saw more of him. I think his relationship and history with Jimmy was interesting, I think it should've been explorers more instead of Jimmy and Karen, who's relationship was kinda predictable and overused. It would've been nice to see him and Jimmy sing together sometime. I wish he sang a few more songs in general because he has a really cool sound.

Jimmy and Derek also could've had a really interesting relationship if it hadn't centered around Karen as much as it did. I think they could've really helped each other. Jimmy didn't take any bullshit and Derek didn't put up with any bullshit, so they could've kept each other in line. Derek also saw something in Jimmy that few people did and I think it would've been neat to see him become a bit of a mentor.

Finally, Derek and Tom had so much potential that was never explored. Their history and their future are so unclear, but I have so many questions.

So yeah, I really did enjoy the show. It's not the most incredible show ever made, but it was fun and interesting. It's a shame it only got two seasons. I kinda blame the marketing team since so few people know it ever existed.

#smash #nbc smash #jimmy collins #ivy lynn #karen cartwright #kyle bishop #tom levitt #jeremy jordan #megan hilty #andy mientus #christian borle #im sick of writing names #so that's it for the tags #i also doubt anyone's gonna see this anyways #i just finished my rewatch of smash and wanted to share my many many thoughts

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misqnon · 7 months

Text

Royal Blue

A gen Sanji fic, around 6K words. also on ao3, here

“Hey, guys? The News Coo just dropped off a letter with the paper, but I think it was a mistake. It’s not addressed to any of us.”

“Who’s it addressed to?” Robin asks.

“Vinsmoke.” Nami says simply, and Sanji actually staggers in his place on the deck.

-----

Five times Sanji’s secret past as a Vinsmoke almost got revealed to the crew, and one time he can’t help but tell them.

AKA I love dramatic character revelations and I’m bitter not everyone was there to react to Whole Cake Island.

Disclaimer- I’ve never actually written for an active fandom before, nor have I finished reading/watching One Piece. Please forgive any blatant errors. I’m currently in the middle of Water 7 and I skip around a lot. 90% of my knowledge comes from secondary sources.

pls enjoy!

The first time it happened, it was less of a danger to his cover, and more a painful reminder that he had anything to hide at all.

After all, he’d left that history behind him so long ago that by now, more than 10 years later, he was sure he wouldn’t ever have to reveal that history. Hell, not even Zeff knew. As far as he was concerned, Sanji was just an orphan boy who’d ended up in that unlucky cruise ship kitchen, and he didn’t need to know how he’d gotten there.

So when they’d all been traveling through the Alabasta desert, Luffy and Nami and Vivi and all the rest of the crew, Sanji hadn’t been thinking about it much at all. When they’d found out Vivi was a princess, well, it had put a little ping into his mind. That little, “You’re technically a prince, too, remember?” But he had quickly squashed it. Not anymore, and never again, so he didn’t need to dwell on the commonality between them.

That was, until weeks later, during that boundless desert trip, when they’d all been sitting around the campfire, resting up for the night on the cool desert sand. It was so much more pleasant than the heat that’d been oppressive over their heads all day. Everyone was chatting, idly enjoying the soup he’d made for everyone. Luffy had downed two bowls of it, and was now snoozing with his hat over his head to the right of them all. Zoro seemed to have a similar idea, though it wasn’t clear if he was actually asleep, or just leaning back with his eyes closed in his usual introverted manner.

Nami and Vivi were sharing stories over the meal, shawls pulled over their shoulders, and Usopp and Chopper were messing around beside them, occasionally joining the conversation to interject one of Usopp’s grand adventures or Chopper’s impressed gasps.

He decided to stroll over to the two women, now with his own bowl carefully balanced in his hand. The chef always ate last, after all.

“Hello, Vivi my sweet! And Nami, my swan! How is the soup?” He asked, practically floating through the air to slide in beside them both. Usopp silently rolled his eyes.

Vivi just smiled, answering for both of them. “It’s delicious, Sanji! Thank you for making dinner again.”

“Why of course! It’s my job as the chef, after all!” He sang, still balancing the soup in his hands that he has yet to even touch, now distracted.

Then, he continued, “You know, this recipe is sometimes called ‘Marry Me Soup.’ They say it’s so good that it’ll convince you to marry the chef.” He said, wiggling his already swirling eyebrow.

Vivi just giggled. “I’m flattered, Sanji, but I don’t think my father would appreciate me getting married right now. Besides, I’ve always been told I’m expected to marry a prince.” She didn’t seem particularly happy about this, nor did she seem very enthusiastic about marriage, period- but Sanji still deflated at the undercut of a rejection. For multiple reasons.

The hopeless flirt within him almost blurted out, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day then, Princess Vivi!’

Except it didn’t, at all, because even for Vivi’s hand in marriage he wouldn’t let that secret slip.

Instead, he just clamped his jaw shut, sat down beside them, and took a sad sip of his soup. Usopp and Chopper laughed, unaware of the true reason for his melancholy. Nami reassured Vivi he’d be fine after she momentarily worried she’d offended him, before scooching closer to inquire further if she really had to marry a prince someday, against her will. They began chatting again, Nami looking fiercely protective all of a sudden.

Sanji only had a couple more spoonfuls before he stood, silently, and walked off a few feet away from the group for a smoke.

A certain green-haired swordsman poked an eye open to glance over at him as he walked by.

That was odd. Sanji didn’t usually smoke while people were still eating. Especially the ladies. It was inconsiderate, he said, cigarette smoke wafting into people’s faces while they tried to eat, tainting the taste with the smell of nicotine.

But there he was, huffing away at the cigarette a bit too fast, in Zoro’s opinion. Then again, he didn’t really know anything about smoking. Nor did he care. He shrugged, shut his eye again, and went back to resting.

Now that Sanji thought about it, looking back, maybe it’d been on his mind more than he thought. After all, why else had he used the codename “Mr. Prince” while he impersonated Mr. 3?

—

“Liar Noland?”

“You know it, Sanji?” Nami asks, peering at this book that she’s never heard of. “But it says it was published in the North Blue.”

“I was born in the North Blue.” He says, and actually smiles, wide and true. His memories of back then are anything but good, but…

“Didn’t I tell you?” He tries to play off, though he knows he’s done no such thing. “It’s where I grew up.”

“No, I thought you were from the East like the rest of us.” She muses, and Usopp agrees.

Sanji continues. And a smile comes to his face again, for the same reason. “My mom used to read me that book when I was a kid.”

For a moment Nami and Usopp both think this is the first Sanji’s told them much of anything about his childhood- they know he had a pretty rough going when he met Zeff, but that’s about it. They’re too focused on the task at hand, though.

Nami opens it and begins to read, the rest of the conversation forgotten.

—

The seven of them stood around the ancient stone door as if peering at it would do anything.

“WHY WON’T THIS STUPID DOOR OPEN!?” Luffy yelled eventually, stomping his feet with impatience.

Robin stepped forward, looking closer at the intricate carvings of winged creatures and giant serpents. Most compelling was the small bowl that seemed to be carved into the center, right below a sharpened bit of rock in the enclave.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before…” She said, hand to her chin in thought. Unlike Luffy, she wasn’t upset, only engulfed in academic curiosity. She stepped back then, walking away to inspect the other parts of the carvings, further down the wall.

“Can’t we just break it down?” Zoro asked, poking at the old stone with little regard for its value. Nami frowned at him, slapping his hand away.

Robin didn’t waste any emotion at his comment, still looking at the newfound bit of text she’d found behind some ivy.

“This stuff is ancient, you idiot! It’s irreplaceable!” Nami growled, scowling as Zoro narrowed his eyes back at her. For a moment, Robin felt a bit of appreciation for the navigator. She was definitely the most levelheaded of this group so far.

“It could be booby-trapped! Besides, it’s probably worth a ton of Berry.” She said, eye’s suddenly aglow with a mischievous shine.

Nevermind, Robin thought with a sigh.

Sanji, Usopp, and Chopper stood back with little to contribute. Usopp seemed to be trying to think of a way to get them over the impossibly tall wall, while Chopper distracted Luffy with the sighting of a big beetle.

Sanji just stood there, a lit cigarette lazily lilting smoke between his teeth. They’d probably figure it out between Usopp, Robin, and Nami. Meanwhile, he could continue to plan out what to make for the rest of the week with the meager rations of fruit and meat they’d gathered.

That was, until Robin finally stood, hand still on her chin but a look of accomplishment dancing on her features.

“Here. It says that to open the door, we must provide a drop of royal blood.” She explained, pointing to the ancient language inscribed on the ivy-covered wall.

Everyone rose their eyebrows at that, including (and especially) Sanji.

“Royal blood?” Usopp asked, confused. “Like a king or something?”

“Aw, man!” Luffy cried. “If only Vivi was still with us!”

“That doesn’t make any damn sense.” Zoro said. “How does the wall know whether the blood is royal or not?”

Robin shrugged. She was an archaeologist, not a scientist. “Who knows.” She said simply.

“I’ll just try it.” Luffy said, rolling up his sleeves and stomping over to the little enclave that held the bowl and the piercing rock.

“Wait!!” Chopper yelled. “You can’t just go stabbing yourself with ancient rocks! Especially ones that have already had other people’s blood on it!” He cried, now trying to pull Luffy away from the wall. He continued to drone on about bacteria and blood-borne diseases as Sanji began sucking a little harder on his cigarette.

Honestly, he didn’t really see the need to get into the old temple anyway. He was starting to think they should just leave. For completely unselfish reasons.

“For once, I agree with the marimo. Let’s just break the damn thing open.” He said, stretching his leg.

“No, damnit!” Nami said, stomping over to him. “You could set off a trap!”

He frowned at that, putting his leg down obediently.

Usopp was next to Robin now, looking between the inscription she’d found and the spot where Chopper was still frantically pulling Luffy away from. “I don’t get it.” He decided finally. “Besides, what do they mean by ‘royal blood,’ exactly? Will any royal blood work, or only the royal blood of whoever ruled this nation?”

Robin found it to be a very good question coming from the teen. She nodded in agreement. “True. The inscription doesn’t clarify.”

As soon as Usopp said it, he began to wonder the same thing. And it made him more nervous. His poor cigarette was almost spent now.

Would his blood work? If it did, would they suspect anything? Should he put it in now, and claim the door was just stupid, like Zoro had claimed earlier? If so, he’d better do it before Luffy, in case the rubber man’s didn’t work-

“HAHA!” Luffy exclaimed, finally pricking the tip of a rubbery outstretched finger on the rock. Chopper deflated in resignation, now joining the rest of them in peering at the bowl as Luffy’s blood fell into it.

The drop of blood fell into the bowl, sat momentarily on the bottom, then was suddenly absorbed by the porous stone as if it was dying of thirst. Everyone looked on in various states of amazement and fear as they waited, one second, two seconds, three seconds, five, ten-

“...I don’t think it’s doing anything.” Nami finally grumbled.

“Well, the good news is, it doesn’t look like it set off any traps.” Replied Usopp, looking around anxiously for any sign of movement in the jungle around them.

Robin was peering at the bowl with curious blue eyes. “Intriguing…”

“Aw, man!” Luffy huffed. He turned suddenly to Usopp. “Usopp, you try.”

“WHAAA? WHY ME?”

“You like Kaya. And Kaya’s kinda royalty. That’s close enough, right?”

“KAYA ISN’T A PRINCESS, LUFFY! SHE’S JUST RICH! AND I’M NOT EVEN HER! THAT’S TOO MUCH OF A STRETCH.” Usopp yelled in frustration.

Zoro, Chopper, and Nami were various degrees of frustrated and fed up listening to the two of them bicker. Sanji was still anxiously tapping his foot, hoping the captain wouldn’t systematically make them all try. And if he did, hoping that his didn’t do shit.

That is, until they heard the familiar call of Marines from up the path behind them.

Sanji turned, eyes wide with panic. “Shit-” He said, lighting another cigarette.

“Marines? All the way up here? How?” Someone said. Sanji wasn’t even paying attention anymore.

“HURRY USOPP! C’MON, GO!”

“NO, LUFFY! MINE WON’T BE ANY DIFFERENT!”

Zoro started unsheathing Wado, ready for a fight, though even he seemed to realize that that was far too many Marines and they were far too close to be able to run.

As the group devolved into arguing, panic, and frantic attempts to prepare for a fight, Sanji looked back one last time at that stupid door and its stupid little blood-sacrifice bowl.

The Marines were visible now, charging from the bottom of the hill and quickly approaching- the path they’d used to get here- the only path out- now blocked.

Sanji cursed, pushing through the mess of the crew and jabbing his thumb onto the rock.

The group went quiet as the giant stone doors began to shake, then pulled slowly open into a dark, but open, temple.

They all looked in surprise to Sanji, who bit down on his cigarette and began running through the opening.

“C’mon, idiots! The Marines are right behind us!”

The group took one look back and followed, sighing in relief as the giant stone doors began to pull shut again just as they’d all made it through.

Everyone was still running, unsure if the Marines would be able to power through, though Luffy had bound up beside him to ask,

“WOOOAH, SANJI! ARE YOU ROYALTY OR SOMETHING?”

“No, idiot. The door’s just stupid. It probably just didn’t work for you ‘cause your blood’s all rubbery and shit.”

Luffy frowned at that, though he seemed satisfied with that answer.

Sanji didn’t turn around after that, but by the feeling of several pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head, he got the feeling the rest of the crew wasn’t quite as convinced.

—

Luckily for him, (and quite unluckily for everyone else), the temple was indeed filled with booby-traps. No one had any time to ask him why the hell his blood had worked because they’d spent the next hour or so of their lives trying not to die.

When they finally made it out the other side, sweaty and beat-up and a few crewmates still a little bit on fire, it was the last thing on everyone’s minds. Especially considering the map they’d found as spoils for their trouble.

Later that night, though, when they’d made it back to the Going Merry and everyone had feasted on grilled pork and pineapple and rice, Zoro stayed behind after dinner, arms crossed and leaning broodily against the doorframe, all despite the drinking that was now taking place out on the deck.

“What do you want, Marimo?” Sanji spit, though he had a feeling he might already know what it was.

“Why did your blood open up that door?”

“Like I said, I don’t think that hunk of rock can actually differentiate between royal blood and not. We just got lucky.”

“Luffy’s blood didn’t work.”

“Yea, and like I said, it’s probably because his blood’s all fucked up and made of rubber.” Sanji bit back, emphasizing the fact that he’d already explained this.

“He’s still human. And I’m pretty sure I heard the Marines trying to prick themselves on it too after we got through.”

Sanji shrugged. “I guess I got some royalty in my family line somewhere, then. Like I said, lucky for us.”

Zoro glared at him. ‘Like I said, like I said.’ It was suspicious.

“Whatever, shit-cook.” He finally replied, shoving off the wall and heading back out to deck to join the party.

Sanji bitterly lit another cigarette.

—

“Newspaper’s here!” Someone calls from the front deck of the Sunny. Sanji’s already walking around with a tray of drinks, currently stopped at Zoro, who takes it without much of a thank you aside from a glance.

He rolls his eyes and moves on, wanting to take a peek at the paper anyway. Nami has it at the moment, so he heads over, even though he’s already given her her drink- first, as always.

“Anything interesting, Nami?” He asks, forgoing the swan~ that got him an eyeroll earlier. He’s also just genuinely curious, which has him distracted just enough to act normal around women.

She skims it and frowns. “Nah, not much. Unless you consider Buggy interesting news.” She says, throwing the stack of parchment to the nearby table without a care. She takes her drink and leaves, presumably to go work at her desk.

Sanji does not find Buggy the Clown to be worthy of his attention, but the damn weirdo happens to pop up way more than he or any of the crew seems to think reasonable.

Regardless, he takes a peek at the newspaper anyway, since he’s already there. Nami’s right, nothing’s of interest- save for the stupid comic strip they’ve included on the last page.

Sora, Warrior of the Sea.

Sanji frowns, his face twisting up into the kind of gangster-like grimace he reserves for Zoro when he’s most exceptionally pissed him off.

He’s not nearly as bothered about it as he should be, but the comic is included in almost every issue of the paper they’ve received since they hit the Grand Line. The first time he’d spotted the Vinsmoke name he’d nearly had a stroke, but apparently, the few crew members who actually read that bit of the paper seemed convinced it was all fictional, the villainous Germa 66 army included.

Sanji was quite fine with leaving it that way.

It’s just a shitty attempt at Marine propaganda, and the fact his family’s been written in as villains as if they aren’t a real royal family kinda does make him laugh. They’ve become so synonymous with evil that they’re written as cartoon villains by the same news company that works with them in the crime underworld. Sanji’s surprised they don’t see it as a slap in the face- maybe they do, but the strips continue to come out unchanged.

On the best days he laughs acridly at the insult it does his biological father, on the worst he bites his lip in anger that he and his crew have to be exposed to their existence.

Though…

He reads the title over again.

Even if it’s just some bullshit marine propaganda, the way they’ve named the main character who beats the evil Germa family again and again brings a small grin to his lips.

—

All in all, the various times his past had almost come out had been relatively easy to cover up.

The closest call, however, had been when they’d landed on an unsuspecting Spring island, a little too close to the North Blue for his liking.

Franky had stayed behind to work on the ship, but the rest of them had gone ahead and went inland to restock supplies, stretch their legs, and find what this island had to offer.

And for once, they'd decided to stick together instead of splitting up. Mainly because some signs around town had said something about a big festival taking place in the square, and Nami, Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper had convinced the last few less sociable crewmates to come along.

Despite the proximity to North Blue, Sanji wasn't actually that worried. He'd never heard of this island before, and he doubted his father would be anywhere near it either. Germa may be a wandering country, but it hadn't left the North Blue in a while as far as he knew, and at the moment they were still in the Grand Line.

So when they all walked up the brick path to the town square, finding before them a wonderful spread of tents, stages, and food stalls, he actually found himself a little excited. Good food, good entertainment, and- he squinted his eyes at the closest stage, where a group of women in traditional garb were performing a folk dance.

Beautiful women? Hell yea, maybe this pit stop would be worth it after all.

“Wow, this looks amazing!” Nami cried, clapping her hands together. “I wonder what it’s all for?”

Usopp jutted a hand over his shoulder. “I think one of the signs we passed said it’s somebody’s birthday. Probably one of the kingdom’s rulers, if I had to guess.”

“Usopp, look!” Chopper interjected, pulling lightly on the leg of the sharpshooter’s pants. “They have cotton candy!”

“Cotton Candy!?” Luffy grinned, patting his hat. He ran off like a cartoon character, leaving a trail of smoke and guffaws of laughter behind him. Usopp and Chopper followed behind.

“Wait! You guys don’t have any money!” Nami said, jogging after them with her Berry pouch already half-opened to loan some out (with interest).

Eventually, she’d caught them, and handed out a bit of Berry to the rest of the crew, too. She sent Zoro back to the ship to grab Franky, both so he wouldn’t miss out and so that Zoro wouldn’t get lost on his own. (If he could even make it back to the ship, anyway).

Then she and Robin began making rounds to all the shops and stalls while they waited, leaving Sanji to do whatever he liked by his lonesome.

And he had absolutely no problem with that.

Obviously, he went straight over to the dancers, making obnoxious heart-eyes in the audience while he watched.

Soon enough, though, he calmed down and ended up wandering the food stalls, trading recipes with the vendors and even picking up some local produce from others.

He'd spent nearly an hour doing so, occasionally running into another Strawhat or two, when a man stopped him near one of the textile stalls.

Sanji had been about to head back to the ship, looking over one last fancy gourd with a scrutable eye, when someone called out his name. Well, a name.

"Young Master Vinsmoke?"

Sanji felt his blood run cold. He snapped his head up, his eyes meeting a man he didn't recognize.

He looked friendly enough- actually, he looked quite pleased to see him. He was posed nervously, as if he couldn't believe what was before him.

Now that Sanji thought about it, he did look somewhat familiar- the frilly outfit and the pins, bobs, and needles stuck into his pin-cushion bottoms. Some measuring tape hung loosely from a pack on his side, and bifocal glasses sat atop his head.

Not familiar enough, though. And Sanji didn't care who the hell he was, not after calling him that.

"Are you talking to me?" Sanji asked, cold anger already growing, though at the moment he was trying to keep his cool.

The man shook his head in amazement. "It is you, isn't it? Young Master Sanji? Why, they told me you'd died!"

Sanji just gaped at him, his latest cigarette falling gracelessly out of his mouth.

He suddenly grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and dragged the two of them behind the nearest stall, to an unoccupied alleyway nearby. The man squeaked in surprise, which Sanji ignored.

"Who the hell are you?" He gritted out, suddenly realizing his friends could be nearby. He prayed nobody had heard them. After last time, there'd be no way he'd be able to sweep it under the rug again.

"O-Oh, you don't remember me! My apologies, sir. I'm Taloose. I work as a royal tailor. I worked for your family when you were young, Mr. Vinsmoke.”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT.” Sanji growled, resisting the urge to pull the man up by the lapels of his frilly suit. He knew the other man didn’t know any better, but it still pissed him off.

Taloose squeaked again. “I’m sorry, sir!”

Sanji let out an irritated breath. “And stop calling me sir.” He grumbled, though with considerably less bite.

“I don’t answer to that name anymore, and I’m not a prince either. So just Sanji is fine.”

The tailor seemed hesitant to comply, but he nodded, silently.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence then. Sanji did recognize him, now that he thought about it. He barely saw the guy- maybe every couple months when he was really young, coming in to fix up little suits for special events for him and his siblings. At that age Sanji was still quite friendly, despite the abuse, but he didn’t form close bonds with the various workers at the beck and call of the Vinsmokes. If anything, he was too focused on his mother’s health and his failings in training. Any memories of this guy were quick snippets and stills of standing on a platform with measuring tape around his waist, and little else.

Realizing the silence had stretched a bit too far, Sanji figured he should probably say something. He had dragged the guy back here, after all.

“Tell me…If you worked for my family, then what are you doing here?” He tried not to let his anxiety seep into his question.

“Well, I’m a traveling tailor. I serve many royal families, including the family here. I helped craft the princess’s dress for this party, as well as some of the other family members. Once I was done, I decided I’d stop by and peruse the textile booths around the market- quite a fine selection if I do say so myself-!” He watched Sanji’s face become irritated and decided to shut up. “But, yes. Just here for the event, really.”

Sanji eyed him carefully. “Do you…still work for my family?”

Taloose shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t mean to flatter you, but you were always my favorite of the Vinsmoke children. Miss Reiju was alright, but the other three boys were quite rude, and with age they only got worse.” He made an unsettled face, as if to imply ‘rude’ wasn’t the full extent of it.

“It became increasingly difficult to work with them, and my work reflected that. I was on the verge of quitting anyway when your father fired me. I wasn’t qualified to be sewing raid suits anyway.” He scoffed.

“So you don’t have contact with them any more? You won’t tell them that you met me here?” Now his voice was betraying his anxiety, but he didn’t care.

Taloose just shook his head, smiling kindly. “No sir. I wouldn’t go back even if they paid me a million berries!” He said, standing tall and adjusting his frilly collar with pride.

Sanji felt himself relax a bit. He nevertheless pulled a new cigarette from the pack in his front pocket.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where they are nowadays, would you?” He asked after a drag. His fingers twitched ever so slightly despite the coolness he now desperately attempted to front.

Taloose was luckily a man without judgement. He shook his head gently. “No, I don’t have a clue. Hard to tell with the place always on the move.” He paused then, looking over Sanji with keen eyes.

“...I can tell you don’t wish to see them again. I apologize if my presence here made you uncomfortable. I assure you, I haven’t had contact with the Vinsmoke family in years. Should for whatever reason I come into contact with them again, I will not reveal your presence.” He says, bowing. “I promise.” A smile graces his face within the bow.

Sanji grumbles as he grabs Taloose by his collar, yanking him up to stand again. “Ya don’t gotta bow to me, idiot.”

“...But I appreciate that. Thanks.”

—

Sanji and Taloose part ways after that.

He’s glad to be rid of the reminder of his past, glad to have the reassurance the Vinsmokes aren’t actively searching for him or anything- but still troubled to have these memories brought back yet again. Running from your past is easy until you’re traveling the world with infamy, and suddenly the spotlight seems to put you back on the radar of harm long thought dead.

Make no mistake, Sanji didn’t regret his choice to join the Strawhats in the slightest. But he was beginning to wonder how much longer he could conceivably keep this secret.

It’s two years before it finally comes back to bite him in the ass.

—

“Hey, guys? The News Coo just dropped off a letter with the paper, but I think it was a mistake. It’s not addressed to any of us.”

Everyone’s heads pop up from their respective locations around the ship, peeking at Nami and the stack of papers now held in her hand. Luffy swings over from his spot on the figurehead.

“What’s it say!? Open it!” He yells excitedly, now looking down over her shoulder at it himself.

“You can’t open someone else’s mail, Luffy, it’s against the law.”

“We’re pirates!” He retorts, and for once Nami feels silly, realizing he’s right in this matter. She purses her lips and eyeballs it again, some recognition starting to come to her face.

Sanji has come down from the galley by now, hands in his pocket as he and most of the rest of the crew approaches the only entertainment they’ve had so far on an unusually boring day of sailing.

“Who’s it addressed to?” Robin asks.

“Vinsmoke.” Nami says simply, and Sanji actually staggers in his place on the deck.

“Strangely enough, isn’t that the villain from that popular comic in the newspaper sometime? Why on Earth would someone try to send a fake character a letter? And how’d we end up with it?” Nami continues, though Sanji doesn’t hear her. He’s too busy falling into the depths of a panic attack here and now.

He’d say that his stomach dropped when he heard her say the name, that his blood ran cold, but with his worst trauma suddenly cropping up in front of him in real life, truly occurring and unable to be stopped, right before the gaze of his crew, his family- he just feels nothing. A switch flips in him and all he feels his nothingness, and then pure hot fear.

“...Sanji? Are you okay?” Chopper asks from beside him, his kind face full of worry at the cook’s near instant reaction. He looks pale, his face is staring straight down at the deck like if he doesn’t look up it isn’t real, and from this angle Chopper can actually see both of his eyes for once, and they’re both blown wide and full of fear.

But he doesn’t answer, because as Chopper asks this Nami slips her thumb under the fold of the envelope and is about to rip it open, and Sanji lurches forward and has to stop himself from Diable Jambe-ing Nami’s hands and burning the letter to ash. He still does something quite out of character for him when it comes to the redheaded woman- which is that he actually yells at her to stop.

Nami, and everyone else, for that matter, freezes.

“Sanji?” Nami asks, incredulous, and a little worried.

He settles for taking it from her hands, as gently as he can manage, which is not at all.

“Don’t.” He says darkly, even though he already has the letter safely in his own hands.

Everyone is silent. They all expect someone to break the silence and yell about not being rude to Nami, but the person they expect to do so is standing right in front of them, doing exactly that. Sanji sighs, and without looking at his crew, slowly rips open the letter.

He looks it over, eyeing it as if he’s in his own pocket dimension at the moment, and no one else is there. Then, when he’s read the contents, he pauses, folds the letter, and sticks it in the pocket of his slacks.

Everyone is waiting with a question on their lips when he finally looks up again, but no one says anything, even Luffy.

Then Sanji sighs, and crosses his arms. He looks all of a sudden more nervous and unsure of himself than they’ve seen him since before Saboady, maybe even since they’ve met him.

“Do you guys remember…back in Skypiea, when we found the book Liar Noland?”

It seems an odd place to start, but they all give various sorts of a nod.

“And I told you all how I was actually born in the North Blue.” He says, reaching an arm up to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. He really wished he had a cigarette right now, but he didn’t want to interrupt by lighting one.

They nod again, aside from Franky and Brook, who hadn’t been on the crew yet at that time.

“Well…” He can’t help it anymore. Quicker than they’ve ever seen him do it before, he slips a cig from his pack and lights it with ease, pulling some smoke out of it like he’s thirsty for it. They’ve all started to put pieces together by now, or at the very least, realize he’s about to open up to them about something quite big.

“My real name…No. My birth name is Vinsmoke Sanji.” He says, wincing at the words put together outloud. “And I’m…I was a prince.”

Everyone’s eyebrows raise at that, eyes widening; save for Zoro and Luffy, who stay relatively straight-faced, listening intently.

“I left when I was 8. I snuck onto a cruise ship, and then Zeff found me.” He continues, mincing the more ugly details that he doesn’t quite feel ready to tell them yet. He doesn’t want this to become a sob story.

“Basically, I’m a runaway prince. Though my father told everyone I was dead anyway…” He sucks in another breath full of smoke. He keeps stuttering and trailing off in his words in a way that so isn’t like him, it’s making him sick. He just wants to get this over with.

“The point is, this letter…It’s for me. I’ve been invited back…”

For a moment, Sanji considers not telling them the truth. He doesn’t want to put them in danger, he doesn’t want them to pity him, he doesn’t want them to feel the need to help him, to do so because he’s too weak to do it himself.

But he also trusts them. More than anyone else in the world, save for his father. His real father.

“For an arranged marriage to one of Big Mom’s daughters.” He grits out, biting down on his cigarette with distaste.

Usopp looks ready to burst with questions, Nami and Robin are incredulous, and even Zoro looks vaguely emotive. Franky and Chopper and Brook are just waiting for someone else to say something first.

But Luffy is, strangely enough, smiling. He adjusts the position of the straw hat on his head, ensuring it’s nice and tight. Then he gives Sanji a grin.

“I’ve been waiting for a reason to pick a fight with Big Mom.” He says.

And somehow, that’s the most reassuring thing he could have heard Luffy say to all of that.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #i am a new fan from the live action. but if u are a new fan from the live action. dont read this unless ur okay with spoilers #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #op #my writing #fic #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #whole cake island #whole cake arc #whole cake spoilers #kinda. barely #strawhat pirates #the pacing in this is a little off and the ending is Eh but otherwise im pretty happy w this. yippee #cross posted on ao3

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peachsayshi · 2 years

Text

WHO SAYS I LOVE YOU FIRST? (Pt. 2) (Dad!Sukuna x F!Reader)

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

a/n: this is part two of this little drabble scenario but Sukuna gets his own prompt because I’m connecting it to the ongoing Dad!Sukuna series! my requests are closed at the moment but I plan on opening them up when I finish what is in my queue - if you have any ideas you want to submit it’ll only be for hc’s or prompts related to any of the fics that I’m currently writing! (I would appreciate some fluff or angst prompts lol most of the stuff is all smut requests) I hope you enjoy this 💖 - I’m definitely going to elaborate on the whole story between this pair when I write my three part series! - let me know if you would like to be added to my Sukuna tag list or full tag list!

TAGS: sukuna has a child, angst :c, sukuna is also an asshole, alludes to past abuse (not with Sukuna)

Sukuna stood before you with a dumbstruck expression resting across his face, while trying to comprehend what possessed you to confess those words to him…in the middle of an argument no less.

He can’t even remember why everything escalated to this point.

One minute you were snuggled in his arms and the next you two had sprung away from each other and started bickering about everything under the sun.

Sukuna was growing frustrated with your odd behavior, and you were tired of him constantly brushing you off.

He wanted to be an active influence in Rai’s life and you weren’t happy with how he treated his role as a father like a twisted game to fulfill a dynastic fantasy he had.

He reminded you in that moment that Rai wasn’t just a human, and you rebutted that he was more like you than Sukuna would ever care to admit.

Back and forth you both dissected everything wrong about your relationship, until the pain made you unravel and you parted to lips to spill a secret you had been keeping guarded up to this point.

“I love you… ” you admitted, and the surprise settled across your face as the silence hung in the air.

Sukuna swallowed the lump in his throat, taking in the sight of his beautiful and vulnerable concubine whose knuckles began turning white as your hands clenched tightly into fists, while you patiently waited for him to say...something.

The truth is, Sukuna’s mind drew a blank.

For the first time in his long life, someone had actually rendered him speechless.

He didn’t understand this conflicting emotion that plagued humans, one which made them incredibly soft and emphasized their weaknesses.

He especially couldn’t wrap his mind that you - the witness to the extremeties of his violence, the devotee that had accepted him in his purest form, and the martyr who risked her own life whenever you stood your ground against his unruly wrath - would ever consider him with any kind of affection.

He took one stride toward you, then another, moving at a slow pace which only made your heart beat faster. He brushed his knuckles lightly across your cheek before hardening his gaze and narrowing his cold eyes.

“An innocent mistake on your part, my pet. You’ll soon learn to get over it.”

An audible gasp escaped you, the hurt washing over you in waves from how quickly your king had come to reject you.

You didn’t even ask for his permission to be dismissed, and turned on your heel before storming your way out of his bedroom where you had been comfortably residing in over the last few weeks.

Sukuna believed that time would heal the wounds engraved in your heart - even though a small part of himself regretted the way he handled this particular situation.

He promised himself that he would at least respect your boundaries until you were ready to approach him, but as time passed he found himself growing restless from how adamant you were on distancing yourself from him.

You avoided him at every cost, ensuring that you were never around his vicinity whenever he would stroll the palace grounds. He would ask the other servants about you, but you already gave them perfectly crafted stories with reasons as to why you had been kept occupied. As his patience began wearing thin, Sukuna decided that he would use his free time with Rai instead in the hopes that he may lure you to his presence through the child you shared.

Sitting on his throne one morning, Sukuna sighed quietly in defeat when he realized that nothing was enough to make you push this particular argument aside. A week had almost passed now, and there was still no sign of you.

He ran his his fingers through his son’s red hair, feeling Rai tilting his head underneath his touch as he looked up at his father with fiery, warm eyes.

They may share similar physical traits, but the feelings conveyed through the child’s compassionate stare was wholeheartedly yours.

A tender glance that made an unfamiliar warmth spread across the cursed king’s chest.

He merely had enough of you giving him the cold shoulder and decided to show up at your quarters one night.

He didn’t care how late the hour was, nor did he take your privacy into any consideration when he slid the screen doors wide open.

To his surprise you were awake, and he found you leaning against the window as you were staring out into the distance.

He made eye contact with you, realizing that you regarded him with neither surprise or fear.

He could tell that you had been expecting this moment, which gave him the confidence to approach you without hesitation.

His fingers held your chin when he stood in front of you, and he tilted your up face up towards him before speaking.

“I will take you to bed tonight.”

The sentence wasn’t a request, but an order. He had every intention of disrobing you right where you were before having you in ways that would make your voice carry across the grounds.

He did very little to hide his own desperation, and your fingers squeezed the overlap of your kimono as you held the front panel tightly close your chest.

Sukuna lightly trace your bottom lip with his thumb, tugging at it slightly as he arched to lean forward. He rubbed the side of his nose on yours, his warm breath making your lashes flutter and you found yourself parting your lips naturally before catching yourself from falling into his trap.

“No.”

Your words were barely a whisper, and it took a moment for Sukuna to even realize that you had spoken before he froze from delivering his kiss.

You felt his hand drop away from your jaw, his fingers stretching out to curl around your neck as he made direct eye contact with you.

He look incredibly displeased.

He has never heard you defy him under any circumstances.

When you were brought to him as a sacrifice he expected you to cower the first night he planned on taking you to his bed, but you accepted him without any question. He wasn’t used to your rejection because never turned him away, and at this very second he found himself growing more frustrated than anticipated.

“You have duties to fulfill, pet... services to perform...” Sukuna reminded, dragging his lips away from yours as he breathed in the scent of your skin before gliding them dow your neck, “…how are you of use to me if you don’t comply?”

His words made you tremble, but you maintained your composure as you held your head high.

“You tell me...”

You challenged him again, making your king pull away from you as he looked at you with confusion and annoyance.

“I’ve given you a whole new life, and this is how you thank me?” he scoffed. “Did you forget how easily men used you...”

He ripped open old wounds that took you a long time to heal, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the mention of your haunting past.

“My past is no different than my present,” you reminded him, “You use me for your own pleasure and if I hadn’t given you a son then you wouldn’t have treated me any differently...”

Yes I would, Sukuna argued back in his mind, but he wouldn’t let those words slip and show even an ounce of vulnerability.

He had no idea why you were winding him up this much, no comprehension as to why he couldn’t rationalize the maddening emotions that were conflicting his mind.

He didn’t want to admit that he had been yearning for you every second of every day, nor did he want confess that he couldn’t look at any of the other concubines without feeling sick to his stomach.

He looped one arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest and making your feet hover off the ground form his sheer strength.

He pinched the front of his brows, his nostrils flaring as his pupils shrunk in size and he could feel your hand claw at his arms as you attempted to push him off you.

He brought mouth lips to your ear, murmuring in a low but sinister voice that had you trembling from his cruel words.

“If you’re unhappy with your position, you’re free to leave.”

When he released you from his embrace is when you felt your heart shatter, unable to withstand all the cracks that he had already inflicted.

Sukuna wasn’t stupid - you knew that he was giving you ultimatum to make you rethink your current behavior towards him by reminding you of how much you had to lose.

Serving your king guaranteed you safety, a roof of over your head and a warm meal. You would never have to worry about Rai under the protection of his father, knowing full well that if any of the jujutsu sorcerers got wind of his existence that they would kill him faster than you can even blink.

Yet, you had grown tired of compliance, exhausted yourself of having to obey and submit with every breath you took. You hated that you’ve shed more tears than laughed, that death stood by you with every threat and insult, and that your love was only worth empty bribes and gold.

These last few weeks made you believe in a dream that never seemed tangible when vicious King treated you like a lover - sharing a bed with you, ensuring that your were pampered and nourished, and taking away any formalities that asserted his power of you.

You were beginning to see a glimpse of a beatiful future - one where you no longer used your body as a means to end, where your son could grow without ever having to comprehend the struggles of how harsh this cruel world could be, and where you could truly give all the parts of you to the one person who mattered.

How could Sukuna have been this blind sided by your confession when you thought that some part of him loved you in return?

You wiped a rogue tear away from your face, acknowledging in that moment that you didn’t want to live the rest of your life being viewed as an object from the being you loved.

You didn’t know how to survive on your own, but if liberating yourself meant a small chance of unconditional happiness, you realized it was a risk worth taking.

***

TAG: @chemstrails-club @mrsmorgenstern @pensivespecter @ekaterinatepes @bloombb @nanamikentcs

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you

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