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golden-cherry · 11 months

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deal - cl16 (9/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Finding an outfit is harder that it seams. Especially when your roommate can't really help you, because he's at his other apartment.

Warnings: fluff, angst (whoops), mentions of cheating (not Charles), mentions of smut (oral, fingering, p in v), angry Charles, text messages

Word Count: 3.6k

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A/N: here it is friends. did my absolute best and honestly, I'm sweating so hard. I chose the name for Charles ex bc it’s the name of the girl my best friend absolutely despises. and this is not a Charlotte hate acc. hope you like it still. feedback is appreciated!

The weather app on your phone is of relatively little help.

Charles had said that you were going out to dinner around eight o'clock in the evening, and according to the app, it should still be fifteen degrees then, even though it's December. While he had said that "it doesn't matter what you wear," but if you were going to be spending more time with him soon, and by extension his friends, you would want to make a good first impression.

Not that your first impression on Charles was particularly good.

Since you promised Charles that he could sleep in his bed tonight, you try to keep the mess of clothes to a minimum. Instead of pulling each piece of clothing out of the closet and then tossing it into the nearest corner because it doesn't match what you had in mind, you put things neatly folded back in their place.

After your roommate left the apartment, you started cleaning up your room so it wouldn't be too embarrassing if Charles stayed there tonight. After all, he doesn't need to see your underwear or the little stuffed animal turtle that sleeps in bed with you. Generally things that maybe old friends know about you, but definitely not the roommate you've been living with for two days.

The roommate who is no help to you when it comes to choosing clothes for tonight. Since he hasn't told you which restaurant it is, you don't know exactly what the dress code looks like, which is why you're now standing in front of the closet at a loss.

In Monaco, when it comes to restaurant choice, anything is possible. You could dine at Le Louis XV, the most expensive restaurant in Monte-Carlo, or Jack Monaco, which is significantly cheaper, but you have a direct view of the harbor with the oversized and expensive yachts.

Secretly, you hope it won't be too expensive tonight. Joris would pay you back the rent soon, but you're still unemployed and unfortunately can't live quite as carefree Charles, who apparently has enough money at his disposal to have not one, but two apartments in Monaco.

A fact that you would never blame him for.

When you can't find anything that would theoretically go with any restaurant visit, you drop onto the bed, annoyed. It can't be that hard to find something, right? You fish your cell phone out of the pocket of your sweater and start typing.

Briefly, you consider actually sending the message, but alas, you're so desperate that you feel you have no choice. You hit send and are about to throw the phone across the room as if you've just confessed to your school crush that you like him.

But Charles isn't your school crush. He's your roommate and first and foremost your friend, which is why you just drop the phone on the bed next to you.

You sit up and narrow your eyes as you go through the clothes in the open closet. Somewhere in there is a pair of dark gray, straight-cut jeans that match the white blouse you carefully hung back on the hanger a few minutes ago.

And sure enough. After a few minutes of rummaging around in the clothes, you find the jeans and as you hold them up next to the blouse, you're relatively pleased with the choice. There should also be shoes floating around somewhere that should go with them. But at least this is a good start.

Satisfied, you clean up the rest of the room. Since Charles has not invited you to dinner, but also to a club, you will certainly be home late, so you decide to make up Charles' bed. Your bedding disappears into the hall closet after you take Charles' things out. As you bring them into the bedroom and spread them out on the bed, you find yourself briefly considering pressing your face into the pillow. For sure, Charles smells attached to it.

But before you can do that, your cell phone vibrates. It's a message from Charles.

Your heart skips a beat. Do friends give each other compliments like that? You glance from your phone to Charles' pillow, then to your outfit for tonight. You bite the inside of your cheek and start typing.

You plug your phone into the charging cord as you head toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for the evening, so you don't see the two messages Charles sends you.

The Ferrari feels different somehow. After Charles sat in your old Renault yesterday, the expensive Ferrari feels strange under him. Not wrong, but different. Like something is missing.

He feels the stares on him as he steers the car through the streets of Monaco. The gray Ferrari attracts attention, with its red and white stripes and the number 16 on the side. But not just because the 488 Pista Spider is a beautiful car.

But because people know who owns the car.

The fact that you don't know that Charles is the Charles Leclerc is refreshing for him, but the guilty conscience gnaws at him. He should tell you that he drives in Formula 1, because after all, you would be dragged into the limelight by him, should people find out that you are friends and, above all, that you live together. Before that happens, he should at least give you the opportunity to get out of it.

But Charles is too selfish for that.

Even though you've only known each other for a short time, Charles enjoys your company too much to mess it up. You're so normal, so kind, without asking for anything in return like most want him to do. You're just you. And by God, he's never felt better than in his short time with you.

He expertly steers the Ferrari into a parking garage entrance, where he has to type a pin into the designated keypad next to him before the barrier. The barrier opens so that he can drive a few meters further, where a metal gate awaits him, where he also has to enter a pin - a different one. Only then does he reach the parking lot that rightfully belongs to him.

It has been some time since he has been here. After driving the last race of the season in Abu Dhabi about three weeks ago and becoming vice world champion, he had stayed on site for a short time to soak up some sun and recover from the stress before flying back to Maranello with his team for a final briefing and to discuss the upcoming season. But even that only lasted a few days. He could have been back in Monaco by now.

But he didn't want to.

He knew exactly what was waiting for him here. A conversation he wanted to delay as long as possible. He didn't stay away from Monaco for so long for no reason, and he wondered if he hadn't returned too soon. But he can't, first, avoid this conversation, and second, stay away from his home. He loves it here too much for that. Just like other things he'd rather not think about right now.

In the elevator, he puts his key in the designated hole and then presses the button with the number of the floor where his apartment is located. Just a few weeks ago, he thought that if he entered this building again, his heart would be beating wildly in his chest or his palms would be sweaty, but he is not even nervous.

He knows what's waiting for him behind the elevator door. And he's ready to wrap things up.

Charles enters the apartment as he has thousands of times before. And just like hundreds of times before, he hears the sound of footsteps on the floor moving quickly in his direction. But never before has he felt this indifference to those footsteps.

"Charles?" A woman comes out of the room where the living room is located and rushes toward him with her arms outstretched. When she reaches him, she wraps her arms around his torso to hold him close, but Charles puts his hands on her shoulders and gently but firmly pushes her away. "Charles, I'm so sorry. What I did is inexcusable and I will-"

"'You won't do anything,'" he interrupts her, wishing he could jump in the shower to wash her touch off him. "I'm just here to get some things. And to ask you to stop calling." He walks past her down the hall and into the room where his clothes are.

"And I told you I would do everything I could to make this right between us," the woman says as she follows him. She places herself in the doorway with her arms crossed as he packs some of his clothes into a large gym bag. "I'm not ready to give up on us yet, Charles. I love you."

Charles can't stop the laughter that escapes him. After stuffing several pairs of socks into his side pocket, he turns to her and puts a hand on his hip. "You gave us up when you fucked that guy, Annika. And dare you to talk about love. You don't even know what that is."

As his phone vibrates in his pocket, he fishes it out. A message from Y/N. He doesn't even notice that a small smile creeps onto his face at that.

But she does. "Who's that? Do you have a new one already?"

Charles quickly types a reply and presses send before turning back to his clothes. "No," he says coldly. "And even if it were, it wouldn't be any of your business."

"Of course it's my business!" Annika almost screeches as she takes a few steps toward him. "I'm your girlfriend, after all!"

"You," Charles zips up the bag and stands in front of her, "are the absolute last person I want anything to do with." He pushes past her into the hallway, where he drops the bag on the floor to go into the bedroom, where some odds and ends are waiting for him to take as well.

Annika follows him like a dog follows its master. "And why do you let me stay here then?"

"Because I'm nice."

"You're not that nice. We both know that."

Charles looks at the picture frames sitting on the windowsill. Among them is a picture of him and his father when Charles was little and went karting. It's a fond memory that he certainly doesn't want to leave here with her. "I've changed."

In disbelief, Annika laughs. "Never. In the two years we were together, I asked you so many times for things that should have been natural for a relationship, but what came from you? Nothing." Now it's her turn to put her hands on her hips. "You're so focused on your job that you don't notice what's going on around you! If you had paid more attention to me, then-"

"Then what? Then you wouldn't have slept with that idiot? Then we would have been happy forever? Peace and happiness?" Charles takes some pictures out of the frames and carefully lays them on top of each other so they don't scratch. He would leave the frames here, after all, they were gifts from Annika. And he definitely doesn't want to keep them. "Grow up, Annika. You knew what you were getting into from the start."

"But not that I have to share you with the whole world." Slowly, she walks toward him and as she stands in front of him, she places her perfectly manicured hands against his chest. "You're all I've ever wanted, Charles. But you were never there. And even when you were there, your mind was always at work or somewhere else, but never with me."

She's not exactly wrong about that. The season had cost him quite a few nerves and he definitely hadn't been a good boyfriend, and maybe none of this would have happened if he had paid more attention to her. But that's definitely not a justification for what she did. Charles knows his worth. And that's exactly why he clasps Annika's wrists with his thumbs and forefingers to take her hands off him.

"For not being a good boyfriend, I am truly sorry." He drops her hands. "But that's no reason to cheat. You and I are done." Charles leaves the bedroom and grabs his bag in the hallway before heading for the elevator door.

"You're leaving? Just like that? Throwing away two years like they never happened?"

Again, his phone vibrates in his pocket. Another message from Y/N, making his heart skip a beat. He grins to himself and types a response that, under different circumstances, he might have thought twice about. But the quicker he replies, the quicker he's out of this place and back to you.

"I'm not throwing it away, you already did." Charles puts his phone back in his pocket and presses the button to make the elevator come. "I'm letting you stay here because I know how bad I've been to you and that this year hasn't been so easy for you either. But if I need this place one day, for whatever reason, you're out of here. And I don't care where you end up. Find someplace to live. Move back in with your parents. But this," he points to the space between you, "is over. Forever."

Annika runs a hand through her hair, then crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Then I hope for your sake that you treat them better than you treat me."

The elevator door opens, but Charles doesn't move a bit. Instead, he looks at his ex-girlfriend, who stands before him with raised eyebrows. "Who do you mean?"

"Do you think I'm that stupid? Or blind?" She points her finger at his pants pocket. "The person you just answered immediately."

"And what's so special about that?" he asks, confused.

Annika takes a step toward him. "You always make everyone wait for you. You make your fans wait for good results, your friends wait for calls. You even make your mother wait for you, because I'm pretty sure she doesn't know you're home yet." Annika stops in front of him. "But whoever that is - that person has all your attention. She doesn't have to wait for you. Let me give you a hint along the way, Charlie."

"Don't call me that. And I don't need your help."

"And even if you did." Annika stretches her arm out, past him, so the elevator door doesn't close. "The fact that she doesn't have to wait for you is good. Don't make her wait for you, too. It's not fair to her. And not to you, either."

As he sits back in the Ferrari - the sports bag and pictures safely stowed in the trunk - he doesn't know what to do with himself.

Charles made it clear to Annika that their relationship was over, and it had been overdue for at least a month. But what she said at the end stuck.

He actually keeps everyone waiting, which is why he keeps blaming himself. He could have told his mother he was back in Monaco a long time ago, but somehow he didn't. He could have told you that he's not just Charles, but he didn't, and so he keeps you waiting for the truth that you know nothing about.

Would you even want to be friends with him anymore if you knew who he was? Or would you want to be friends with him all the more?

Never, he thinks to himself. That's not who you are. And he can say that even though you've only known each other for a short time.

And even though you've only known each other for two days, you're all he can think about. He thinks about how you sat together on the grass and talked about his father. He thinks about how you cried at Cars. He thinks about how you flirted with him even though, in your opinion, it wasn't flirting (it was to him, of course; he wanted to know how to win you over for a reason). He thinks about how you told him about your ex-boyfriend and how he would love to beat him up. He thinks of you standing next to each other in the kitchen washing the dishes.

He thinks of you standing in front of him dressed only in a towel. With bare shoulders and bare legs and that - if he would get the opportunity again - he would not hesitate to pull you into the bedroom and fuck you with his tongue, his fingers or his cock in such a way that he would ruin all other men for you.

Charles closes his eyes briefly to get the image of you on his mind, and then drives off. He would love to drive to the lookout and talk to his father about the situation, but somehow it doesn't feel right without you there.

But he can't talk to you about it either, because it involves you, and although it would certainly be best, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. Not because he doesn't trust you, but because he's afraid of losing you.

He slaps his hand against his forehead. "Get a grip, damn it," he says to himself. The two of you haven't even touched, and he's thinking about how he'd take you on every surface in the small apartment. That's just not normal.

And most of all, it's not fair. You confided in him about your ex-boyfriend because Charles is your friend. And your roommate. And that's what he needs to be to you.

It wouldn't be fair for him to get into a relationship with you because one, you don't know who exactly he is, and two, he can never be what you need him to be. You need someone who is there for you, who takes time for you. Someone you can laugh and cry with. Not someone who is away most weeks of the year and can't even manage to call his own mother.

You would always be waiting for him. And even though he doesn't want to agree with Annika, he has to. The whole thing is not fair to you.

And so he deletes the last two messages he sent you, which you apparently haven't read yet, as he parks his Ferrari in an underground garage and walks the last few meters to your apartment.

He decides that he is your friend. Only your friend. Because he has to be, and because he can't be anything else. Because you need a real friend, and not a relationship.

Charles unlocks the apartment door and drops the gym bag to the floor beside him.

"Charles?" Unlike Annika's voice, his heart starts to beat faster at yours and his palms start to sweat, so he quickly wipes them on his jeans. You come out of the bathroom dressed in dark gray jeans and a white blouse that accentuates your curves. As you stand in front of him, you turn once so he can check you out from all sides. In all his life, he's never seen anyone look so divine. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure what to wear. I hope that's all right."

His smile is gentle and he hopes you don't notice how hard he has to swallow, and he would have loved to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But his ex-girlfriend is still clinging to him, and before you touch each other properly for the first time, he wants her washed off.

It's not fair.

"It's okay," he says with a smile and goes to the fridge for a glass of orange juice. You stop by the apartment door next to the gym bag, but don't ask where the stuff is from. And for that, he's very grateful. "I'm just going to jump in the shower and then we can go, okay?"

He doesn't wait for your answer as he pulls new clothes out of his suitcase, walks into the bathroom, undresses, and stands under the hot stream of water. Even now, he keeps you waiting, which further solidifies his decision to keep your relationship purely platonic. While he's shampooing his hair, he makes a deal with himself that he'll do whatever it takes to make this friendship work. Even if that means suppressing his feelings.

As he leaves the bathroom freshly showered and ready to go, you sit on the couch. He's looking at you, thinking about what Annika said, what he'd like to do with you, and all the things he could lose. And all of that just isn't fair.

"I'm sorry you had to wait for me," he says softly, reaching for your car key that's on the dining room table. It feels better in his hand than the one from the Ferrari. So familiar. Like the key will fulfill everything he's ever wanted.

"It's okay," you reply, getting up from the couch. You take a few steps toward him and smile at him, and his heart melts. "I'm fine with waiting."

the messages Charles deleted -

next part

#charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #Charles Leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #Charles Leclerc series

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imaginecolby · 6 months

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prove it || c.b.

summary: after an argument between you, colby promises you that he'll do whatever it takes to get you to forgive him. requested by anonymous.

"i'm so tired of having this conversation with you! if you can't trust me, then we shouldn't even be in this relationship anymore!" you shouted, storming upstairs.

"you don't get to storm away from me in my house!" colby said, following closely behind you.

"well, maybe you should actually listen to me for once, and i won't have to storm off. i don't know how many more times i need to tell you that i don't want you for your clout, or your money. the faster you understand that, then the faster this fight can be over." you took a deep breath before speaking again. "colby, we have been going at this all day. i'm tired of fighting. until you get can get it through your head that i want to be with you, then i can't do this anymore."

you finished packing your things up, and made your way to your car to leave. you half expected colby to come running after you, but when he didn't, you finally let yourself cry. you drove back to your house in silence, letting the tears fall. this was the only thing that you and colby ever fought over, but after the fourth time having this fight, you didn't have it in you to continue to argue over it.

after a quick stop for food, you finally made it home. you sat on the couch, crying as you ate. you really were worried this was gonna be the end of your relationship, but you knew that you couldn't be part of a relationship where someone didn't trust you. you deserved better than that, and you weren't going to continue to put yourself through that.

a few hours passed with no word from colby. you figured you wouldn't hear from him tonight, and forced yourself to try to sleep. unfortunately, that proved to be easier said than done. you tossed and turned all night, mind racing with images of your night replaying in your head.

"god, this sucks." you sighed. you slept for a total of about two hours, and it hit you bad the next day. you moped your way through work, barely talking to anyone, or getting any work done. everyone was trying to get you to open up, and offer some comfort, but you weren't in the mood. you were just trying to get through the next few days, in case this was really the end. once you were finally off of work, you made your way home, and stepped straight into the shower. you sat in the bottom of the tub, letting the warm water massage your muscles, and washing away the stress from the day.

after your shower, you put on some pajamas and moved to the couch, turning on a movie. you rolled your eyes as all of your recommendations were romantic comedies that you were not in the mood for. you ended up turning on an action film that you ended up not paying much attention to. you spaced out as you ate your leftovers, feeling numb. you were all cried out, and now longer knew what to feel.

"god this has been the worst few days." you sighed, turning the tv off. you sat in silence for a while before there was knock on the door. you got up to the answer door, colby standing on your porch.

"hey." he said quietly. you stood there, your arms crossed across your chest, saying nothing. "can we talk?" you turned to move back into your house, colby following closely behind you. you say back on the couch, and he sat on the chair across the living room for you.

"talk about what? just so you can talk down on me some more? you've made it abundantly clear that i don't come from the same world as you and that i don't understand how the industry works." you spat, mimicking his voice. "news flash, i knew that when we met, and i knew that when we got together. you don't need to continue to make me feel bad about it."

"i know, i'm sorry. sometimes i just get too into my head about all this. you're the first real girlfriend ive had since i've been in LA, and im still having trouble figuring this out." he said softly.

"you can't continue using that as an excuse whenever you blow up at me. i understand you're having a hard time figuring this out, but sometimes it feels like you don't understand how badly it hurts when you say things like that to me. it makes me feel like you don't trust me and that you don't want to be with me."

"god, i'm such an idiot. i never want you to feel that way. i love you, and i love everything about us. i never want to make you feel like that i don't care about you, or i don't trust you. i regret that i ever did that to you, and i want to do everything i can to fix this."

"well, an apology is a start. but i need you to prove that you actually believe that and you do trust me."

"i do, and i will. i am so so sorry that i ever made you feel like i didn't want to be with you or that i didn't trsut that you were with me for the right reasons. i love you. i love you more than anything, and i want to be with you." he said, moving to sit next to you.

"i love you too." you said, pulling him into your arms. you hugged him tight and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"i'm sorry." he said again, looking up at you. "so so sorry."

"i know. and i accept your apology. and all the future ones i expect from you." you teased.

you and colby spent the rest of the night together, finally feeling better after the last couple of days. you hoped that things would continue to be good for you and colby, and you would stay in a good place for a while. maybe forever.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader

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show-your-fangs · 11 months

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omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?

Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭

i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.

this is part two of this blurb from my moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.

That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you.

The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.

You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.

“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert.

“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know.

“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.”

“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”

That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate.

“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”

You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips.

“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”

Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning.

You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more.

You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black.

You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives.

Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before.

You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit.

Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you.

“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him.

“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”

“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”

Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—

“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.”

Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat.

“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”

That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.

But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.

“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there.

“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else.

“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”

God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”

“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them.

A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful.

“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving.

“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”

You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.

“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”

He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.

“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash.

The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.

It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you.

i've been smiling like an idiot all day

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x you #hotch x reader #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au

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broke-art · 3 months

Text

Macaque x Fangirl reader

"You must be my biggest fan." The hooded storyteller leaned down next to your seat. "I hope that journal isn't to steal my stories." He gestures to the open notebook in your lap.

"What?! No! No of course not." You promised hurriedly. "Your stories are so good but, they're yours. I couldn't tell them half as well. No I'm-" paused trying to collect your thoughts. You certainly had been taking notes but not to steal anything. It's just the story reminded you so much of someone.

The hooded figure smiled indulgently.

"And who is that?" He asked clearly meaning the sketches next to your notes.

Some heat flared to life in your cheeks.

"Oh that is my depiction of the six earred Macaque." You explained ensuring to keep your eyes glued to the journal. "He was the brother of the monkey king? Played a super important role." You rambled. "Actually your story reminds me of-" the words died in your throat as you saw his grin slowly turn into a slight frown.

"You.....you know about the six earred Macaque?" He said slowly.

You nodded slightly.

"He's my favorite. It's really unfortunate how he died." You mumbled with a shrug.

The figure seemed to flinch a bit but when you looked at him he pasted on a grin that felt a touch forced.

"Sooo....you're a fangirl?"

A blushed burned at your cheeks and you tensed.

"I wouldn't call it that!" You shook your head adamantly.

The figure chuckled.

"Hey it's nothing to be ashamed about. Although-" He sat next to you thoughtfully touching a hand to his chin. "Why does my story remind you of him?"

You blinked.

"Uhm well it's pretty well known that when Sun wukong and Macaque parted ways it wasn't under the most...ahem....amiable conditions."

For a moment you thought you heard the man mutter under his breath, 'No kidding' But you couldn't be sure.

"But Macaque was still pretty renowned in his own way and when they did work together they were virtually unstoppable!" You slipped into explanations and gushed about how cool you believed the monkey brothers were.

That was until your own brother ran into the theater.

"Y/n! I can't find Mei or the others any-" He stopped short suddenly and summoned his staff.

"Macaque. I should have known."

"Wha-"

"Get away from my sister. Now." M.k growled twirling the staff.

A low chuckle sounded behind you making you stiffen and slowly turn.

The man pulled back the hood to reveal a black monkey with purple eyes and a wicked grin.

"Ohohoho sister huh?" He looked at you with a risen brown and you felt your gut twist in knots.

"So... Fangirl." He addressed you stepping towards you. "Ready to meet the real deal?"

"I said-" Gold flared around M.k just before he launched at Macaque. "Get back!"

You screamed and raised your arms as purple and gold magic clashed and the resulting sonic blast threw you back into the bleachers.

"Careful there, bud." Macaque's mockery reached you just as your shadow morphed under you. "Wouldn't want someone to get hurt !"

At the last word the shadow opened a portal in the floor.

With a gasp you reached for M.k as you fell only to see him lunge for you.

"Y/N!" He shouted only for his fingertips to just brush your own before the world vanished into a void of black.

You came to with a groan touching a hand to your head.

"M.k you've got some explaining to do." Pigsy groused somewhere in the background as you got your bearings. Slowly, as the world righted yourself you spotted your journal.

You picked it up carefully as M.k dashed out the doors for some unknown reason. You flicked through the pages and froze on your latest page.

'To my biggest fan. Thanks for coming to the show. Was nice to hear someone remembers me. ' - Macaque.

You blinked and despite yourself you smiled slowly. Perhaps you really were a fangirl.

#lego monkie kid #lego red son #lmk #jttw #jttw sun wukong #jttw wukong #lego monkie king #lego #lego nezha #redson #lmk monkie kid #lmk mei #lmk mk #lmk macaque #lmk monkey king #lmk macaque x reader #lmk six eared macaque #macaque x reader #six eared macaque

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vtoriacore · 1 year

Text

✧ the flirtiest one of all! [2]

note: part two of this, fun fact it was actually 6.9k words on the original doc and i’m not telling you this for any particular reason haha i am the epitome of maturity i promise <3 (lying)

characters: azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel

synopsis: pretty simple, you confess by out-flirting just about every human being, merman, beastman and fae on planet earth. because you’re suave babe, go for it!

heartslabyul & savanaclaw | ignihyde & diasomnia

♡ OCTAVINELLE

✯; azul ashengrotto

azul quirked an eyebrow when you entered mostro longue with that mischievous smile of yours but what caught his attention next is the purple rectangular box you were carrying, addressed as 'Ashengrotto'

"My, my. Got something for me, prefect?"

"Depending on the answer you'll give me, maybe."

the little spark of excitement in his azure blue eyes which perfectly reflected the light definitely confirmed your suspicions on whether he knew or not

"Hm~ Well then it seems I'm inclined to ask for the question."

"That was a statement."

"Is that relevant?"

"No I just wanted a reason to talk to you longer~"

the slightest surprise on his face quickly vanished as he tried to control his rapidly increasing heartbeat

"Well, don't keep me waiting [Name]. I'm a very busy merman after all. "

"Haha, okay I'll spare you the embarrassment."

"So, will you accept my feelings or are you just going to continue blushing?"

"Me, blushing? N-never."

"I have eyes, Ashengrotto. You'll have to do better than that!"

"There is no winning against you . . . Regarding your first question though, it would seem a waste if I said no."

"Yeah, a waste of the countless affection I'd be willing to give~"

"Affection doesn't produce a profit dear."

"No, it produces mutual feelings instead. And happiness, with the right person!"

as always, your witty remarks never failed to make him gain those adorable red hues across his cheeks

"If I ever die of exhaustion, it will be because of your antics."

"Correction, my cute antics :)"

"Well my dear angelfish, the exit is that way if you're done tormenting me."

"But the entrance to your heart is this way."

"Whatever will I do with you?"

"Dunno, but you got time to figure it out cause I'm not leaving."

✯; jade leech

his cryptic smile stayed on the minute he saw you at mostro lounge, discussing something with azul as the merman gave this huge sigh of exasperation and nodded his head at whatever you had asked

he (naturally) came up to you once azul decided to walk away from you

"Oya, oya~ What are you doing here my pearl?"

"Good question~ I'm sure you're smart enough to figure it out."

and figure it out he does once he catches a glimpse of the heart shaped turquoise box in your hand addressed to him in beautiful handwriting

"Hm, it would appear I'm totally clueless. If only you would be so kind as to explain the meaning of this."

"Oh what a true shame, Leech."

"Yes, very unfortunate indeed."

"Need I make it more obvious?"

"I might have to request a verbal explanation, fufu~"

"How about I give you the physical one instead~?"

undoubtedly, the wink and statement you gave him managed to make even the jade leech's heart itself skip a beat as he gulped slightly

"I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that."

"I'll take that as a yes for the feelings I'm confessing to you, then."

"And who am I to decline such proposal?"

"Just about the most charming man in existence~"

"Ah, you never do fail with coming up with pick-up lines it seems."

"Of course not, deem yourself lucky for being my test subject in that aspect Leech."

oh jade would definitely consider himself a winner if this is what he gets to hear after today

"Well I cannot say they're not entertaining~"

"And completely genuine, by the way."

if there was a world record for the most times someone manages to make the merman even slightly flustered, you'd definitely take the title with ease

"At this rate, I'll have to start coming up with my own quips. I can't be the only one getting swept of my feet like this."

"Hmph, that was smooth I'll give you that one!"

✯; floyd leech

has this stupid grin the second you step foot into his dorm room when jade is out, and it only widens once he realises what you're carrying with you

"Heya Koebi-chan~"

"In high spirits are we?"

"Hmmmm? Have I ever not been?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. And are you not going to ask why I'm here Leech?"

"No, why would I~ You're obviously here for me!"

"What if I was here for Jade?"

"Then I would make you stay here for me instead!"

even with his playful response, you could definitely tell that if you brought jade into this once more, floyd wouldn't spare you any mercy and have you be a victim of his infamous squeeze

"No need~ I actually did come here for you."

"Ehehe~ Of course you did!"

"Tsk, confident one aren't you?"

"Mhm~ Confident enough to say that the chocolates you're carrying are for me Koebi-chan!"

"Won't you look at that~ You guessed it right!"

the beat that floyd's heart skipped amplified the excitement he felt when you handed him the box of goods

"They smell really good! Are you sure you don't wanna work as a chef for the lounge"

"I'm good. And they look good too, I spent around an hour making them for you."

"No fair! I was going to confess first on white day. Spoiling my plans like this, the nerve~"

"I didn't confess yet Leech! But now that you reminded me, you better accept my feelings."

"Threatened with a confession? Didn't think that was your style haha!"

the merman definitely felt nothing but pure joy as he unwrapped the first chocolate and popped it into his mouth

"Hm~ So what if I did? As far as I know, the law doesn't prevent me from wanting to be with my crush."

"Ah, ah~! One more word and I'll give you a lil' squeeze."

"Did I ever say I would mind that?"

"Then I guess you won't Koebi-chan! But just so you know, I don't plan on letting go!"

___

♡ SCARABIA

✯; kalim al-asim

pleasantly surprised to find out that you're visiting scarabia and is immediately beaming at you when you enter with a cute looking box of what appeared to be spice laced chocolates (the smell made his mouth water!)

"Good morning [Name]! What a nice sight to see so early on!"

"Morning Asim, you're in a good mood~"

"That's because Jamil let me host a banquet for Valentine's day! Isn't he the best?"

"Let me guess, he made you promise to not cook with him after you insisted you wanted to help, right?"

"Woah are you sure you don't have magic yourself? That was so accurate!"

"You're too sweet sunshine, unfortunately that's still a no."

kalim grinned at the nickname as his heart palpitations grew, amplifying when he looked at the crimson box of chocolates with golden trimmings again

"So, is there a reason as to why you're visiting Scarabia?"

"Yeah, you're actually the whole reason."

"Ahhhh that's cute! Would you like to stay for the night?"

"Depending on your answer, maybe~"

"My answer to what?"

"To whether you'll accept my feelings or not."

the pearly white haired boy swears he felt his heart leap out his chest as his ruby red eyes widened

"Oh my- I'm so happy you feel the same way! I absolutely do accept yes!"

"You should also be happy about the fact I spent an hour making these!"

when you handed him the chocolates his perpetual grin only became bigger if that's even possible

"Awe thank you so much [Name]! You're the best!"

"Mhm no problem~ I made it a point to ask Viper for your favourite kind of chocolate."

"You're so sweet, how about we go on a magic carpet ride?? Like the one of that very old tale where princess Jasmin and-"

"Ah spare the details Asim, I know exactly which one you're talking about."

"Great! I heard it's very romantic. Ooh! Maybe we can do a cute duet too!"

"Whatever you want, just make sure you'll focus on the steering."

"But how would I focus on anything but you?"

"You asking me this so genuinely is actually surreal."

✯; jamil viper

the moment his smoky grey eyes landed on your form and the maroon heart shaped box you were carrying with you, he immediately knew what was up, or hoped he knew what it was

"Oh prefect. Good morning."

"As formal as always I see?"

"Were you expecting anything but?"

"I don't set unrealistic expectations, Viper."

"Was that an insult?"

"Are you taking it as one?"

"Do you ever give straight answers?"

"No but I will be needing a very straight answer from you though."

the teasing smile you gave jamil never ceased to make his heart skip a beat, no matter how much denial he was in at the present moment

"Depends on the question you ask, [Last name]."

"Hm rude~ I should be asking Kalim if he would accept my feelings instead . . . Too bad I'm already super invested in you, no?"

just the mention of kalim alone made a scowl appear on jamil's face as he gazed straight in your eyes

"Yes, and too bad I'm already accepting your feelings so you can't back out. What a shame."

"Woah Viper~ Possessive much! Not that I don't like it, ehe."

"Tsk, you're really irritating when you want to be."

"But it's only because I love your reactions. They simply get cuter as they go."

jamil looked at the ground as a red hue crept over his face, he feared that if you said anything else he might just lose every bit of self restraint he has

"And . . . you're sure you want to be with me? You know what it means . . ."

"Absolutely, 100% positive that you're the one and I am not budging on this no matter what you say."

"Tsk, you're not making this easy for me at all."

"Easy wouldn't be fun, just accept that we're totally fated already."

"Because you're madly in love with me ;)"

"Why do I even bother. . ."

"There you go, being delusional again."

♡ POMEFIORE

"Wouldn't have to be delusional if you didn't make me darlin'!"

___

✯; vil schoenheit

notices when you walk in right away, and is very quick to spot the velvety box you're carrying, definitely surprised when the tag reads 'Schoenheit'

"Afternoon prefect, do you need anything from me specifically?"

"Yeah your attention on me for a second or two."

"Well in that case, make it quick."

"Wow being this rude should be illegal~"

"So should taking up someone's time. Someone who has a scheduled shoot in approximately 4 hours."

"Are you saying I'm wasting your time?"

"Did you take my statement as such?"

"Guess I'll go confess to LeBlanche then~ I'm sure he'll like what I made."

vil's eyes narrowed in the slightest as a light scoff left his lips, he didn't expect such a reply but your fiery nature was one of the things as to why he fell for you in the first place so he didn't have a place to complain

"You're really something else entirely."

"Always have been, love~"

the nickname itself made the blonde shiver, but combined with your killer smile, he couldn't help but avert his eyes for a few seconds

"So I'm guessing you're here to confess after all?"

"Yeah, so if you would be as kind as to accept my feelings please~"

"You were already aware of what my answer would be, weren't you?"

"Oh definitely~ Now before you deny the gift, it's dark chocolate. And won't affect your daily calorie intake too much."

"Good, I do admire the thought behind that."

vil couldn't help but smile at the notion of you caring enough as to take care of the small details, but may have become even more smitten with you when he opened the box to see the beautiful designs which were clearly inspired by him

"You better appreciate them, took over an hour to make~"

"Would you really spend that much time and effort into making something so superficial?"

"Duh~ Only for you though!"

"In that case, thank you dear. Please do expect something in return on white day."

"Positively can't wait. Anything you do is bound to turn out great!"

✯; rook hunt

chances are he already knew you were making something, but didn't know for who so when you came into the pomefiore dorm and requested to see him, boy was he mildly amused (not to mentioned excited)

"Bonjour mon amour~ I've heard from Roi du Poison that you inquired about my whereabouts?"

"Well then your hearing must be excellent because that's exactly what I needed!"

"My, my you seem to be in a bonne humeur~"

"That's because my hard efforts to make the greatest chocolates ever paid off!"

"Oh? Tu as fait du chocolat? How intriguing, for who~?"

"For the person who stole my heart~"

rook glanced at the velvety red box in your hand yet to his dismay, couldn't see what was on the tag. however, that didn't stop him from wishing it was reserved for him

"As always, tu es très énigmatique, my dear."

"Hehe~ I saw you glancing at the tag. You must be curious~"

"Naturally, anyone would be, non?"

"Well, you better appreciate the effort I put into this because it's for you~"

the blonde haired hunter couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture as he anticipated the confession which was sure to follow with a hitched breath

"Well I'd love to accept them."

"Since you're accepting the chocolates, you have to accept my feelings too Hunt~"

"With pleasure, [Name]. Or mon cœur. Whichever you prefer!"

"Are you trying to woo me with the way you say my name? Because it's working."

"That wasn't my intention, but I'm glad to hear this."

despite the cool facade rook maintained, he would definitely be lying if he said he didn't feel his heart drum faster throughout his chest at your endearing words

"If that's the case, then I should politely ask for you to stop charming me like that, it just isn't fair~"

"You're as equally charming mon amour, does that not equal out?"

"Unfair! You're doing it again."

"Je n'ai rien fait, je promets~"

✯; epel felmier

the way you came into his dorm with an apple pie laced with cinnamon, he definitely tried to suppress a smile that was threatening to break out on his face

" Hey prefect, what brings you here?"

"Oh you know, my legs."

"Hey- you know what I meant!"

"Okay, okay~ I'm here for a very important reason."

"That would be?"

"You're very impatient, read what's on the tag~"

"Uh, 'Felmier'. My last name?"

by this point, the lilac haired boy began to suspect what was up but nonetheless waited for what you'd say next with a hitched breath

"Congrats, you can read~ Now guess why I'm here."

"W-wait . . . Don't tell me you're . . . confessing?"

"That's exactly what I was about to do but I guess I won't tell you."

"Ah- wait that's not what I was sayin'- uh saying!"

"You should stop hiding your accent around me, it's so adorable~"

"Gh- whatever ya say just spill it!"

"Okay, okay~ Well I'm here to ask if you'd be willing to accept my feelings?"

"I- yeah . . . Yeah I do-"

"You're making it sound like we're getting married~ You should ask for my hand first!"

the red hues decorating epel's face along with the loud beating of his heart did not make it easier for him to look you straight in the eyes

"Oh just hand over the pie . . . I'm puttin' your efforts to the test."

"Hehe~ Okay, okay but you better appreciate it or else."

"I do . . .. And don't make a comment on that!"

"Okay I won't haha! For now."

"Hah- tsk I'll never carve apples for you again . . ."

"Hey Felmier! You take that back this instant!"

"Maybe if you beg for forgiveness."

"Is this how you treat your future spouse?"

"[N-name]!"

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ja3yun · 6 months

Text

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.5

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut(ish), mdni, cheating (i'm sorry), almost handjobs, heavy makeout, alcohol, serious longing, ynjake make stupid decisions, lmk if there is anything else.

wc: 4.7k+

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

a/n: hey...hi...how we all doing. listen if you hate me after this chapter I get it </3. I did leave this on a cliffhanger but the next part is the finale! i love my little pookie yn she's trying her best she just can't handle her liquor (she's so real, so me). hope you all enjoy and see you for the finale next week!

masterlist

The shower hits off your skin as you finally have time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days; seeing Jaeyun again, coming to terms with his engagement, getting forgiveness from him, and his dad’s words. It’s a lot to process. The one thing you can’t seem to understand though is his and Yeoreum’s relationship. When you first arrived it was as if everything was sunshine and rainbows with the way she was talking. Her nonchalant way of saying he got over you quickly, how they’re soulmates, but that's not what his actions are saying and definitely not what they’re argument was eluding to. Your mind scrambles to piece it all together, like, maybe it’s different because you’re here and once the wedding is over and you leave they’ll go back to the way Yeoreum painted them.

But he kissed your hand. He made all those CDs of your old mixtapes. He told you he loved you.

The warm droplets act as a blanket around you providing comfort and warmth as you run your fingers through your wet and soapy hair. Thinking about him just made more memories rise to the surface. How when you got stressed with exams he would make you take a shower with him and he would innocently wash your hair for you. His fingers would rub your scalp as if to ease the pain your brain was in from cramming so many topics in it at once. With his chest flushed against your back, he raked his hands through your hair and made sure he didn’t miss a bit. “I’m practicing. For when we’re old and brittle and have to look after each other.” He would say so casually. That was the thing about Jaeyun, he always made you feel like no matter what happened, his love for you was eternal.

You turn the shower off and step carefully onto the mat, but as a chap sounds from the door you jump and almost lose your balance. Gripping tightly onto the counter to steady yourself you curse under your breath and wrap a towel around your body. “Yes?”

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly.

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20.

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so good. If there wasn’t a bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lacey detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned. Like you had your old life back.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, or at least enough to fake it for the journey, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications.

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturday when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two baby guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom.

“I don’t know,” You desperately try to come up with an excuse as to why you won’t fuck him. It’s a boundary you can’t cross but if you tell her that you need to tell her about you and Jaeyun’s history. Your drinks are now in front of you both and you use that as the perfect excuse, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Shots. Doubles. Test tubes. Cocktails. You’re surprised you’re still standing.

The lights are blurred as you laugh at nothing, jumping around and splashing your drink on innocent bystanders along the way. Eunseo is off finding herself a suitor for the night so it leaves you on your own for a while. That is until familiar hands make their way to your hips and hold you still.

Your head slowly turns around, scared that if you go too fast you might vomit. A concerned look from Jaeyun is what you are met with as he speaks to you but with the music and your drunkenness you can’t hear him, instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle like you’re in high school again after seeing his face. “Jaeyun.” His name comes out with a laugh, “Come to dance with me?” Your head tilts, your eyes shut, and your mouth pouts.

“Y/N, come on sit down with us.” His head nods to the booth his fiance and best man are sitting at, their eyes on you both. Sober you would agree and keep your distance, but drunk you is in charge and you know fine well how that goes. She doesn’t make your life that easy.

“Baby” you whine, “One dance? Pretty please?” Your bottom lip hides your top one and Jaeyun almost falls to his knees. You’re so cute like this he could eat you up, or eat you out if he was in different circumstances. His eyes dart to Heeseung in a pleading manner and he seems to catch the gist, pulling Yeoreum to the bar for another drink.

Jaeyun gives in. “One dance, and then you’re sitting down.” His hands gently squeeze your hips like he used to when he was warning you.

“On your lap?” A smirk slips onto your face and your free hand plays with his hair.

Jaeyun blows out air and looks up to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. “No, Y/N.” He speaks to the sky before finding the courage to speak directly at you again, “On a seat.”

You were making this so difficult for him, if it wasn’t your outfit it was the reckless way you were behaving as if his fiance wasn’t just meters away. The skirt that was already short was now basically halfway up your ass and his hands longed to be placed there. You’re the bain of his existence and all his morals in this moment.

You bring your hands back to your chest, clutching the drink and downing it before throwing the plastic away and reaching up, doing some sort of dancing but to Jaeyun it’s more like one of those animal mating calls. You’re calling him to you and he’s seconds away from answering. His hands let go of your waist and hover over your arm, “Come on, let’s go sit dow-”

“You promised one dance and I have yet to see you dance Mr. Sim.” Your words slur but the tone is authoritative yet playful. Awkwardly, he grants your wish and dances with you, aware of where is appropriate to touch and what’s not but when you grab his hands to place them on your ass he squeezes impulsively, bringing you closer to him. “That’s it.” You say so innocently but it has his two heads fuzzy with need.

“Princess, we can’t dance like this.” Despite his words his hands never leave your backside. Here comes that pout again decorating your face and your eyes twinkle.

“But I’ve been a good girl.”

Oh fuck.

Jaeyun growls and squeezes your plump cheeks, the action pressing his cock against your lower abdomen. You jump a little asking for him to pick you up like you used to do and his mind is so overcome with desire for you his hands slide to the back of your thighs and hoist you up. Smiling proudly you look down at him, now slightly taller from the height he’s holding you, you lean into his neck and brush your glossy lips over his sensitive spot. Even after all these years and with more alcohol in your system than an aunt at Christmas you’re still aware of Jaeyun’s likes and wants.

Jaeyun carries you to the back of the club which was basically in pure darkness, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign and a passing strobe light. Every sensible fiber of his being is lost, the only coherent thought he has is to listen to his heart calling out for you.

He perches you up on the thin bar that’s screwed into the wall, the metal cold against your skin but at this moment you couldn’t care less. Your lips are now on his neck, kissing your way down to his shoulder and his chest rumbles with a moan. “Princess I’ve missed you so much.” His hands hold you steady, thumb rubbing against the lace on your corset.

“Missed you more.” You puff out, eyes locking onto his. “I love you”. The phrase slips out of your mouth purposefully for the first time in 4 years and Jaeyun’s eyes flash with something, something electric and his mouth is on yours quicker than lightning. His lips that you’ve craved finally find their way back home to you. “I love you so much.” You whisper, your lips always connected.

Grabbing his t-shirt you pull him in closer, scared that if you loosen your grip he’ll be gone forever. He feels your desperate touch and his tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he grinds his hips into your core. He uses your moaning as a gateway into your mouth, his tongue exploring around and coming into contact with your soft kitten licks. Just as before, a growl leaves him, kissing you so passionately and deeply. “Love you so fucking much, baby.”

His words fuel you to lose all sense of control and your hands slide down his torso to his jeans, pawing over his concealed cock. You missed Jaeyun more than anything, and god did you miss his dick and how it was tailor-made just for you.

As your hands slip into his jeans he stops kissing you and looks at you deep into your soul, begging for it, and then he really looks at you. You’re drunk, eyes glazed, you might not remember this, or worse, regret it. He's also doing the one thing he promised never to do to any woman. Cheat. His heart stops as he comes to terms with what he has to do.

“Princess, we can’t.” Reluctantly he grabs your arm and pulls it, the warmth of your palm gone, leaving his cock twitching and aching for you. You’re confused, looking between your hand and his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” The innocent question paired with your bambi eyes almost has him saying no and letting this continue but he shakes his head and holds your hand in his.

“Never. You’re such a good girl, yeah?” You smile and go to touch him again but he grabs your face with his hands, the action stopping you. “We just can’t.” You whisper a small ‘why?’ almost inaudible, “Because, baby, you’re drunk and this is complicated. I want you so much, please don’t think I don’t.” He assures you as he sees the tears fill your eyes. His lips kiss yours again and he’s playing with fire but if tomorrow you sober up and don’t speak to him again, he has to have one last kiss.

He picks you up and places you down so your feet are on the sticky club ground. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay Princess?” He whispers and turns around but your small hand is suddenly on his cheek, guiding it to face you. “What is it, love?” his hand lays over yours as he melts into your touch.

“Please don’t marry her.”

____________

A dull pain spreads across your forehead as the sun infiltrates the room rudely awakening you. There is a taste in your mouth but you can’t quite place it, it’s strange yet familiar. You don’t remember much, and what you do remember is blurry and without a timeline. There were shots, vodkas, and dancing, these are the only memories you have.

Looking around the room with squinted eyes you try to adjust to the light, it’s warm and you’re sweating which makes you feel disgusting and sticky. A groan leaves your lips and that’s when Eunseo turns to you, the first time you’ve noticed her since your sleep was disturbed. Her face is stern as her body swivels in the chair to face you.

“Good night?” She says bitterly. Oh, you’ve definitely done something wrong. Quick, think about everything, shots, too many more shots, dancing, a dark room? You shake your head to align your thoughts but nothing is coming. Eunseo scoffs and strides over to your bed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You really don’t remember?” Her tone is accusatory with a glint of sass. Now you really had to think about what she was referring to.

“Um, I remember you going to hook up with that tall guy with the pretty lips?” Maybe you could get her to speak about that instead of whatever awful thing you had done.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the hangxiety kicked in tenfold. “Think harder.” She demands, her whole body now facing you with her legs tucked under her, “When I was hooking up with the hottie?”

Think.

“I-” You had no answer for her, maybe after a couple of paracetamol and some coffee you could then hazard a guess but for now it was a distant memory buried under the alcohol that is admittedly still in your veins. “Eunseo what did I do?”

The question causes silence and the room has tension so thick not even a knife could slice through it. “Are you really sure you don’t remember?” She’s mad. Really mad.

Okay, so you got to the bar, had drinks, got drunk, danced with people, kissed Jaeyun, got in a tax-

Kissed Jaeyun.

That’s the taste in your mouth. It’s him. Dancing with him, kissing him, touching him, craving every inch of him, and Eunseo knows. She saw it.

Your rapid heartbeat is going so fast you think it’s stopped. Your face shifts from confusion to guilt and shock. “See! Now you remember! Please explain yourself.” You couldn’t. There was no excuse to be said without blurting out every detail of your life and more importantly, your life with Jaeyun.

Stuttering you look around wondering if there is any way to escape this conversation, maybe a secret passage that you can teleport from. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a way out. You had made your bed so now you have to lay in it. “Eunseo I-”

“No you know what, let me speak.” She stands up and clasps her hands together, “I can forgive you, just tell me you were so drunk you thought it was someone else, please.”

“It’s more complicated-” She cut you off again.

“I know he’s hot, okay? But to kiss my sister’s fiance like that, you don’t have any shame huh?” Her tone is spiteful as she spits at you trying to wrack up any rationality that you can muster.

“Eunseo please just listen to me.” I stand up and reach for her but she pulls away. Her demeanor is standoffish as she places her left hand on her hip. “It’s so much more than you think.”

“Oh, what? It was love at first sight? You thought it was Heeseung? Taking advantage of the fact they’re fighting?” A step forward from her has you stepping back, “Fucking tell me, Y/N because I am struggling deeply here.”

“He’s my ex.”

Her body stills, her hands laid flat in front of her as she processes your words. “Not your ex that…” she trails off thinking, her eyes following an invisible pattern on the ceiling as she tries to work it out, “Not that ex you spoke about? Surely not?”

Every inch of you wants to pretend it isn’t. Pretend that it's another fling and it means nothing to you but as you stare into your best friend's eyes you realise you can’t lie to her, not anymore.

“That ex.” You breathe out and sit down. “Eunseo, please hear me out.”

The thing about Eunseo is that she has always been understanding but as her gaze burns into yours you wonder if she’ll be so kind. Her weight sits next to you as she sighs and it’s your opportunity to speak. “When you invited me, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Jaeyun would walk in beside Yeoreum.” Your voice is pleading with her to believe you but her face remains the same so you continue, “I was so drunk last night I think instincts kicked in. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

She scoffs, “What was your plan, hm? Did you see him and go ‘oh yeah I’ll get him back easy’”

“Never. It has never been on my radar. It was the drink. I-”

Eunseo interrupts you by sticking her hand in your face, “You still love him, don’t you?” You can’t even look at her, just the swirling mix of her words and the memory of Yeoreum during her argument with Jaeyun swirling in your mind.

You nod, “Listen, I am not trying to break them up, me and Jaeyun haven’t spoken much. We’ve reconciled and that’s about it.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you wouldn’t tell her about the whispered I love you he shared when you saw him on the first night, or the mixtapes and handholding, she didn’t have to know. “I’m not breaking up this marriage.”

“Wow, so kind of you,” Eunseo scoffs, “Listen, I love you but I need you out of here.” Her tone is less venomous but still pointed. “Your relationship with him, from what Yeoreum has told me about his ex, isn’t simple. It’s deep. It’s dangerous to my sister’s happiness, and she will always be my priority.” Your best friend’s face is hard yet holds a fondness in it.

“I understand that, I wanted to leave earlier I just didn’t know when the right time was.”

“Now.” She stands up and crosses her arms as she faces you, “Now is the right time, Y/N. The longer you’re here the longer I have to worry about Yeoreum being left at the alter.”

“Eunseo he won’t-”

“Of course he fucking will, Y/N. He would leave my sister for you. That has been made perfectly clear.”

Wait. The argument Mr. Sim tore you away from, that’s what she was meaning. “What are you talking about?” You feign ignorance hoping she knows more than you do which seemingly it does. “What did he say?”

“He said enough. Look, Y/N,” She pinches her eyebrows, “I love you, and I know deep within me this isn’t your fault but please, go home. For me. For Yeoreum.”

You suck in your bottom lip to stop you from crying. If you lose Eunseo you’ll be right back to where you used to be, alone because of your own stupid mistakes. You rub your hands on your thigh and breathe out slowly, gathering your thoughts and calculating your next moves. There is animosity and hurt in the air and it breaks you. “Eunseo I-”

“I know, Y/N. But please. Don’t take Jake away from my sister.”

“What Jaeyun and I had, it’s so…” Pausing you stand and look at her, “It’s so difficult to explain. I don’t need you to forgive me, but please don’t tell anyone.” Your voice is above a whisper as you plead with her, “If you’re the only one who knows please keep it that way. He loves your sister and he is so happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted.”

A sorrow flashes over Eunseo’s face as you sob. No one in this world will understand the love between you and Jaeyun, not until they’ve experienced it themselves. You make your way around the room and gather your things, ready to leave him once again.

____

Unbeknownst to you, two doors down Heeseung and Jaeyun are having a similar conversation. You seem to be the topic of conversation the day before the wedding, just like Heeseung had warned you of.

Jaeyun is sitting on the bed Yeoreum refused to sleep in last night, his eyes tired as he tells Heeseung the details of what transpired last night. “She asked me not to marry Reum.” He breathes out slowly.

Heeseung’s body turns slowly, his eyes wide and head at a slant. His flabber has been gasted and as he looks at his best friend’s sullen look he only has one question. “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jaeyun’s voice is defensive like the answer should be obvious, but really he just wants to use this chance so Heeseung will tell him what to do. He loves you so much so that as soon as you asked him not to marry Yeoreum he almost instantly broke the wedding off. But he’s not that cruel, he knows there are too many people that will be hurt. If he really was going to call off this wedding he had to do it as respectfully as possible.

But did he even want to call off the wedding? Yeoreum needed him.

“I mean 'and' are you going to cancel the wedding?” Heeseung’s words prevent Jaeyun from answering internally. “Yeoreum isn’t exactly speaking with you right now, she was putting on a brave face in the club but look,” he gestures to the still-made bed, “She can’t even sleep in the same room as you. And you literally can’t see anything but Y/N when she’s around. I don't know what you said when you argued with her but it must have been bad.”

“I’m fucked, Hee.” Jaeyun plants his face into his hands and rubs vigorously into his eyes, trying to shake up his brain to make sense of it all. “Reum asked me yesterday after the walk if I would leave her for my ex.”

The sentence piqued Heeseung’s interest once again, and he wondered what his friend would have confessed. He doesn’t say a word, opting to slowly sit next to Jaeyun. “I-” Jaeyun starts to speak again, “I told her...” The pause is a cause of concern and Heeseung leans forward to try and make eye contact with Jaeyun.

“Jake do NOT tell me you told her you’d leave her high and dry for Y/N?” Heeseung’s hands are gripped to his knees as he holds his breath. The stillness and lack of response were enough of an indication of what happened for Heeseung to shut his eyes and sigh, “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s cold, mate.”

“I don’t fucking know, Hee. I love Yeoreum, she helped me over the past few years to finally get back to a state where I felt like part of myself again-”

“Do you love her?” Looking straight into Jaeyun’s eyes, Heeseung asks a question that has been on his mind since the moment he found out Jaeyun proposed. “Answer me this honestly, did you propose to her because you thought it would help you move on from Y/N? Or because you genuinely love her?”

Their eyes are communicating silently. That wasn’t true, he really loved Yeoreum and he wanted to marry her because they were in love, not because it felt like a fast-track way to get over you. Right? Jaeyun thinks hard.

“Let me tell you what I think.” The oldest speaks up again, “I think you asked her to marry you because you thought settling with her would make you forget about Y/N.” Jaeyun’s face scrunched up, confused by his best friend’s words.

“That’s no-”

“Answer me honestly, Jake.” Heeseung is trying his best to let Jaeyun see the truth, to finally put some sense into him. Jaeyun knows there has always been tension between his fiance and best friend, ever since they met it was like there was a wall between them no matter how many times Jaeyun tried to get them closer. But despite his quibble with Yeoreum, Heeseung wouldn’t say this for anything. And it’s not the first time he’s heard it either.

“You know I’ll support you, but you need to think about this. Think out what you truly want.”

He recalls a conversation he and his dad had with him a few weeks after he announced he was engaged.

“Son, this is pretty fast. Are you sure?” His dad kept a stoic expression and his tone of voice was stale. Jaeyun simply nodded and smiled before telling him ‘It’s what makes sense.’. With that, his dad heaved out a breath, “But is it what you want?”

“Of course it is!” Jaeyun’s voice was raised, “You don’t think I want to marry her? Why would I propose if I didn’t?” A knowing look from his father shut him up almost instantly.

“Jaeyun, listen to me seriously, marriage isn’t going to help you get over Y/N.” Jaeyun stands up. “Dad, I am over her.”

His dad shakes him by the shoulders, “You will never be over Y/N. And that’s okay, but that means this marriage to Yeoreum won’t make you forget, won’t help you the way you think it will. Seriously consider my words before this gets out of control.”

Heeseung waits for him to process his words, staying silent to give him time. He wanted nothing more than his best friend’s happiness. If you asked him a week ago, he would never have said anything, let Jaeyun go through with the marriage because at least he is somewhat content, finally living his life without you. But now that you’re back and he sees how obviously you and Jaeyun still crave one another, he needs Jaeyun to seriously think about tomorrow.

“Heeseung,” His breath catches in his throat before he utters the next words, “I need her.”

#aj writes #enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #the next chapter is...#you're either gonna love it or hate it besties

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onceuponastory · 3 months

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twelve minutes - bucky barnes x reader

But for now we stay so far 'Til our lonely limbs collide I can't keep you in these arms So I'll keep you in my mind - you and i by PVRIS

Plot: Almost a year after their breakup, Y/N sees Bucky Barnes again. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (past) Warnings: Mentions of a breakup and heartbreak, angst without a happy ending. Bucky being a shitty boyfriend. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: So You and I by PVRIS, one of my favourite songs ever, turned 8 on Friday, and I had to write another fic for it to celebrate (please ignore I'm a few days late) so here we are!

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

One night, Y/N stands outside the Avengers tower in the cold New York air. A chilly wind blows, and she shivers. She can still hear the party inside, the muffled music and laughter. Maybe she should just go inside? Isn't that better than being out here, alone and in the cold?

But just as she’s about to turn back, she shakes her head. She didn’t even want to come tonight. Although the Avengers are still her friends, a party attended by her ex, Bucky Barnes, was not the ideal way to spend her night. But Natasha whined and begged for her to come, promising her she’d have a good time and it wouldn’t be that awkward. Unfortunately, it was just as awkward as Y/N expected. In fact, it was worse.

Sure, people still spoke to her, but she could tell they all had one question on their lips, one she was not willing to answer: "So, when are you and Bucky getting back together?"

And so, Y/N left. She types on her phone, ordering an Uber to take her home. Sighing, she wraps her jacket around herself as another chilly wind blows. Soon, she’ll be home and can eat her sorrows in ice cream.

“Leaving so soon?” A familiar voice asks. One that Y/N was hoping not to hear tonight.

“Hey Bucky.” He looks different from the last time she saw him, almost a year ago, now. Just over ten months, in fact. Not that she’s counting or anything. He’s bulkier, no doubt an effect of Steve’s constant early morning runs. Each time he left their bed, he promised to come back, kissing her cheek softly. Even now, her skin tingles just thinking about it. Bucky smiles, brushing some of his longer hair out of his face.

He looks good.

He looks great, actually. She can’t deny it - he still looks as attractive ever. Deep down, something registers in her gut. It’s a strong, passionate longing feeling, the same one she used to have whenever she thought of Bucky. One that she thought disappeared a long time ago. But seeing him now is reigniting that feeling. Desperately, she tries to bury it.

“Good to see you again.” He murmurs, a sign that he’s feeling just as awkward as she is. After all, how often do you run into your ex at a party you didn’t even want to go to? “Nat never said you were coming.” He looks around, a brow raised. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours? She said he’s a lawyer.” Of course she fucking did. She’s going to kill her next time she sees her. “Can’t imagine he’d pass up a moment to spend time with you.”

“We um. We broke up. Well, he dumped me for his secretary, actually. So… yeah.” She’s immediately embarrassed, not meaning to spill her heartbreak to anyone, let alone Bucky fucking Barnes, her ex of all people. Honestly, part of her reasoning for coming tonight and hopefully dragging Harry along with her was to make Bucky jealous, show him that their breakup wasn’t affecting her that badly.

And look how well that turned out.

But her wounds are still raw. Perhaps, after suppressing her feelings for so long, she simply needed to release and express her frustration and pain to someone. And Bucky just happens to be the one she’s letting it out to, the welcome respite she’s needed for so long. That's how things used to be between them. Whenever something was wrong, Y/N and Bucky relied on each other for comfort. They would spend hours in each other’s arms, talking about their problems until they felt better. Y/N still aches for that comforting grasp, even now.

But now, things are different. Including her and Bucky.

Especially her and Bucky.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?”

“It’s okay.” She lies, but knows that if she dwells on it too long, she’ll start sobbing in front of him. Her chest tightens in an all too familiar way. This is what people like Bucky Barnes do. They come into your life and leave a mark. Once they’re gone, you work so hard to heal yourself and make a new life, and then they come back in and destroy everything all over again. And she won’t put herself through that again.

“Looking back on it now, we just weren’t a good fit. Or at least, he didn’t like me as much as I liked him.” The heat on her cheeks deepens, as if she’s embarrassed to admit falling in love with and getting her heart broken by someone like her ex. To admit that she subjected herself to so much pain and heartbreak yet again. But thankfully, Bucky doesn’t mention it.

“Honestly, it’s his loss. You deserve better.”

“Thanks.” And again, silence envelops them. She wonders if he’ll start talking about their breakup, or continue ignoring the enormous elephant in the room. And honestly…. she doesn’t know which she’d rather have. To lay everything out in the open, or just ignore it all again, pretending everything is fine. When her eyes drift back to him, he’s not looking at her anymore, and despite how angry she was at Bucky for what happened, and how much she likes to kid herself that she doesn’t care about Bucky anymore, it still stings.

Deep down, she wants him to want her, like she wants him. To still want her, even now.

“Can we talk?” He asks suddenly. She already hates the idea of being forced to spend time with another ex so soon after losing another relationship, but there’s not much else she can do. And honestly…. She misses Bucky a lot.

“Sure. You have….” she peers down at her phone screen, the light illuminating the space. “Twelve minutes.” Bucky raises a brow.

“Twelve? That’s very… specific.” He chuckles awkwardly. Y/N doesn’t laugh.

“It’s how long until my Uber arrives.”

“Oh.” There’s disappointment lacing his tone, which Y/N picks up on. She stares at him, waiting for his response. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened between us.”

“Okay. Me too.” She nods. Bucky raises a brow.

“...That’s it? Y-You’re not going to say anything?”

“What can I say? You said that you’re sorry for how it ended, and so am I.” She shrugs. “There’s no point in beating ourselves up, Bucky. We just never worked out. You were always too busy, and after a while I just stopped waiting for you. The fights got too much, and we just stopped loving one another.” Honestly, she never stopped loving him. But it’s better to lie and tell him that the feeling is mutual than waste all her tears on someone who actually stopped loving her. She stopped being important to him and was no longer the key priority in his life. Missions were his priority, followed by dinners, drinks, and world trips with teammates - things she stopped being invited to. As an Avenger, he can't refuse to save the world, but she thought she mattered to him. Realising she didn't hurt her deeply.

So one day, she decided enough was enough, and… it was over. And she’s missed him terribly since then.

“You really think I stopped loving you?” Bucky frowns. There’s a strange mix of guilt and accusation in his tone. Y/N nods. “Well, I didn’t. I never stopped.”

Y/N gasps, and his revelation makes her heart pound. What if this is a good sign? A chance for them to make things right? “I thought you did. I thought you stopped caring.” For a moment, she wonders how he’ll react, if he’ll take her into his arms again, and whisper sweet nothings. Maybe they’ll finally make things right.

Instead, he turns defensive. “I didn’t. And it’s not all my fault, you know. I did try to make it home to you, but you didn’t understand how busy I was sometimes.” He snaps, sending a fresh strike of pain through her already damaged heart and destroying all hope she ever had of them rekindling their relationship..

“You had a funny way of showing it.” She retorts, rolling her eyes. Anger flows through her veins, overtaking her last shred of guilt. Why is it her who has to fix things first? To be the villain, the one who has to admit that they’re in the wrong? Angry and bitter tears sting at her eyes. “But yeah, whatever. It’s my fault our relationship fell apart.”

Immediately, Bucky regrets his words. “Look, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.” He hates that this is what they’ve come to now, unable to speak to one another without anger, bitterness and hurt feelings. But maybe this is a chance to make things right? A whole twelve…well, probably ten minutes, now. “And I’m sorry if it seemed I wasn’t trying hard enough. I loved you a lot.” He sighs. “I still do.”

“I never stopped either.” She admits, and Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Really?” He gasps. “W-Well, do you wanna get a drink somewhere? Or some dinner?”

“Wait.” She raises a hand, cutting him off. She sighs. “Not tonight.”

“Tomorrow? I’ll wait. We can go whenever you want.” He urges. But Y/N just can’t ignore the feeling deep inside her, of guilt and apprehension. What if she lets him back in and it happens all over again? If she gives him all of her heart and gets it back broken, yet again? She’s already been through two heartbreaks in this lifetime, and she can’t go through that pain again.

Especially not one caused by Bucky.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She whispers, biting her bottom lip. Bucky frowns, confused.

“What do you mean? W-Why not?”

“Because I can’t do this again.” She whimpers, her voice cracking. “Our break up destroyed me, and I’ve just been through another one. Another break up between us would actually finish me off.” She shakes her head. “Maybe one day we can talk…but not now.”

Bucky opens his mouth, ready to speak. But he nods. “I understand.” He sighs. He keeps his gaze on her, his blue eyes imploring and hopeful. Suddenly, the sound of an engine approaches. Y/N sighs. “Guess my twelve minutes are up.” Bucky chuckles nervously.

“Goodnight Bucky.” She says, getting into the car and closing the door. He watches her go, looking crestfallen. She looks out of the window, locking eyes with him.

“You okay?” The driver asks. “Need a minute?” Y/N’s heart aches, and her chest aches.

“No.” she murmurs. “You can keep driving.” And then they pull away, and Bucky fades into the distance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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batsbirdsandspeedstersohmy · 1 month

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Some thoughts I have on cute story line/au

Wally and dick are dating took them forever to actually admit they got feeling for each other even if everyone else alrighty knew.

Wally is the flash berry is still alive and the flash. They kind of both are at the same time. No it's not confusing unless your arent from key stone or central city. If your from bludhaven you are to scared to ask due to seeing Nightwing and flash kissing. If your from anywhere else then you are probably confused.

Bruce gets lost in the time line

Dick unfortunately has to take up the mantle of Batman

Wally doesn't like that but support his boyfriend in any and everyway he can.

Dick moved back into the manner makes Damian Robin and works closely with him. Wally just about spends every night there even if he isn't living there technically. Since his name is on their old apartment and they don't fully want to lose it yet.

Dick and Damian become close. And thus Wally and Damian become close.

Damian starts seeing them as his parents. Calling them dad in different languages they don't know

Dick has an idea of what's Damian is doing. He knows his Damian even if they don't say it. Dick and wally refers to Damian as their kid.

Wally and Dick go to all meet the parents and Damian art shows and just every and anything they can. Damian will not say it but he is glad to have them there. He gets so upset if anything wrong happens cause he doesn't want them to think he not good enough anymore.

Wally and Dick get engaged Damian knew it was happening. He when with Dick to help pick out the rings. Well he when with Dick to help look at rings and get an idea of style. then waited as Wayne enterprises made something that would work for a speedster. He also inspected the ring very closely to make sure the people who made it didn't mess up.

Bruce comes back

Damian thinks he has to go back with Bruce and Wally and Dick won't want him anymore. Bruce of course thinks he is entitled to Damian. Wally and Dick are heart broken but think its best if Damian stays with Bruce.

Everyone but Bruce cry

Bruce is a bad parent and doesn't see Damian as anything but the killing machine he was trian to be and how he was right when he was dropping off at Bruce door step a few years ago.

Damian is the ring bearer for the wedding of course and hoes with them on wedding planning.

Alfred hates how Bruce is not showing love and how excited Damian is when Dick and wally come over. And how sad he gets as soon as they leave.

Alfred prints out adoption paperwork for what feels like the millionth time and instead of giving to Bruce puts in Dick pile of papers.

Wally and Dick almost cry when they find it and fill out what is their part. They take Damian out for ice cream. And ask Damian if he wants to be with them. Damian of course says yes and how their his dads and please don't leave him again.

They go back and start packing up stuff and go to the bat cave to get Bruce to sign the papers.

Bruce says no he will not and that they baby Damian and he needs to be watched carefully. Dick and Wally are going to get killed if they trust Damian so easily. And he will not let them take him.

Dick and wally are so upset dick gets mad. And yells at Bruce about how he been gone and Damian been hurt so much by him. Wally ends up being like Bruce you have 3 days otherwise we are taking this to court and taking our child back the hard way.

Damian doesnt understand why he can't go with them now. Wally unfortunately understands that it looks worse if they kidnap Damian by taking him now. They promised it only going to be a little bit and they get him very soon.

Damian spends the next three days packing up everything when he not busy. Alfred brings him boxes. Bruce tried to unpack things saying he not going anywhere. Alfred starts moving the boxes to a safe space that Bruce can't get to. But isn't Dick and Wally's place.

Bruce doesn't sign the papers

They go to court Dick and Wally get a lawyer for themselves and one for Damian. Bruce says it stupid for Damian to have his own one. And it's actually Dick and wally having two.

The judge ends up picking Damian a new lawyer and whoever wins have to pay for Damian's.

A lot of Damian's teachers are called in. Damian art teacher is one of the ones who help a lot. She brings up a project about their family tree and how Bruce and Talia are on there. But also Wally and Dick are on it. And Damian has put himself under them but arrows to Bruce and Talia with blood parents.

Talia ends up showing up. Which no one really knows how she knew what was happening. She says wants her son with Bruce that's why she drop him off at his place. (To train with the Batman)

I need to go to bed about 40 minute ago I'll come back and finish my thoughts

#damian wayne #dick grayson #batfamily #bruce wayne #birdflash #dick is damian dad

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selfloverrrrrr · 13 days

Text

You're alone...? (Part-4)

Warnings : Noncon, kissing, Kidnapping, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, protective, jealous, Mafia Au....

Summary: Gojo and Sukuna are rivals. Sukuna pulled Gojo's trigger without any reason now Gojo came to take revenge....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

A day passed. It was the next morning. I was sitting on Gojo's lap in Gojo's office. Gojo was sitting on his chair. We were giggling and laughing at each other's talk. We were alone in his office.

"Your cheeks are soft... I heard that men's cheeks aren't this soft they are kinda hard....my brother's cheeks aren't this soft too" I said pulling his cheeks. He looked at me and smirked. "Oh.. really? My another mussel is soft too wanna make it hard?" He asked with a smirk. I blushed so hard. "Can you stop?!" I said looking away from him and he laughed.

Suddenly the door of his office opened. Maki entered. "Mr.Gojo Yuta called me to tell you go to the 2nd floor...he said someone attacked here" Maki said. "Did he said who attacked?" Gojo asked. "No he didn't " Maki replied and Gojo nodded. Gojo started walking towards the door.

I grabbed his hand. " Why are you going without your gun....are you mad or something?" I said. "I don't need gun tho... they all are there with me " Gojo said. "Shut up ..... I won't let you go without a fucking gun!" I said. "Okey Madam I'm taking the gun" he said and took the gun. "And...." I spoke. He looked at me. ".....be safe " I said. He smirked. " I've to be safe for you, darling " he said and I smiled. The he went out.

Me and Maki were alone in the room. There was silence after Gojo left us there. "So.... you fell in love with him?" Maki broke the silence. I looked at her. "You mean Gojo?" I asked. She nodded. "Yuppp.... Fortunately or unfortunately.... I did" I replied and we both giggled. "What about you?" I asked. "Hmm?" She responds. "Do you like anyone?" I asked. "Yupp I do.... actually he's my boyfriend" she replied. "Oh really? Who's it?" I asked. "It's Yuta " she replied with a blush. "OMG I KNEW IT! DON'T TELL HIM THAT I'M TELLING YOU THIS. I HEARD HIM TAKING WITH MEGUMI ABOUT HIS GIRLFRIEND AND HE'S WAS SAYING ABOUT BUYING A RING" I Replied excitedly. "OMG.... really?!" Maki asked and I nodded.

The door opened again. Nobara entered. "Maki saan come quickly! Mr.Gojo is injured and he's not even letting anyone help him!" Nobara said. My heart skipped a beat. "Wait! Can you please tell me who attacked???" I asked. "It's..... your brother.... Sukuna" she replied. "Oh fuck! I've to go! Or else Sukuna's gonna kill Satoru!" I said and run towards the door.

Gojo's POV

When I enter the second floor. I saw blood and my bodyguards fighting with opponent's bodyguard. I saw Megumi running towards me. "Gojo! It's Sukuna" he said. "Where's he?" I asked and Megumi pointed . I went towards the direction. I saw. He saw me too. He started walking towards me and smacked me directly on my face. "What kind of -" before I could finish my sentence he smacked me again. "Where's my sister???!!!" He asked. 'I can't hurt Sukuna! I promised her!' I told myself. He smacked me again. "Gonna make your death so much painful" he said. I saw my guards coming to beat him "don't come here... don't touch him!" I warned them. Sukuna started smacking me continuously.

Y/n's POV

I run to the second floor. I saw blood everywhere. My heart started beating so fast. Fear got me. Then I saw sukuna. And I saw Gojo infront of him on the floor. There was blood on his face and Sukuna was continuously. "Sukuna! " I called while going towards them. Gojo and Sukuna both looked at me. Sukuna got up and hugged me. "Oh my God!!!!! Fuck I was so scared! Are you okey? Did he hurt you? I know what he did with you! Fuck I'm gonna kill that dick...he won't touch you Again!" Sukuna said. "Sukuna I'm okey...but listen to me! Don't hurt him... please " I pleaded. Sukuna paused. "What?...why?" He asked in a cold tone. "... I.... I love him... please don't hurt him " I said. "ARE. YOU.OUT.OF.YOUR.MIND???" He said. "I... i-i really l-love him " I said. He slapped me hard. He grabbed my face and said "you should fucking DIE!!". His nails digging into my cheeks. I saw Gojo went up and smacked Sukuna. Sukuna fell on the floor. Gojo smacked him again. "Guys...kill his guards " gojo orders. Gojo looked at me "I told you darling... not if he hurts you!" He said and shoot Sukuna's leg 5 times. "Listen motherfucker! If I see your face again... I'm gonna kill you myself" he said and again shoot on Sukuna's leg. But I didn't stop him.

Gojo took me in bridal style and carried me towards our room. I don't wanna see sukuna again. Cause if he can slap for this he's can kill me too and I don't want Gojo to get hurt who kept my promise when he was almost dying... I know Gojo love's me... and he's gonna protect me in any cost!

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

#jjk #smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw noncon #fem reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere #gojo noncon #dark content #dark blog

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greenandsorrow · 4 months

Text

"Boytoy"

WARNINGS; sexual references, ken x fem!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, ken finding out about periods, fluff & happy ending, plot doesn't connect with the movie, probably grammar mistakes

Bonus Part

After their rather intense night they just got comfy under the covers, this time with Ken being the big spoon. Y/n was laying her head on his chest, just where his plastic heart is, his heartbeat lulling her into a deep sleep. Our lucky Ken had his arms wrapped around y/n's frame, while nuzzling the top of her head, inhaling the flowery scent of her shampoo, feeling his eyelids getting heavier.

Since that day they've been inseparable. Ken figured out how to control his waking up in the real world or in Barbieland. He was also informed that there's a portal to y/n's world at his favourite beach. Y/n's house has become his own and she was happy and patient to get him used to human activities such as going out for a snack, walking her home after her classes and so on.

Life is good, it's sublime. Y/n is looking forward to Ken's surprise for her birthday...she was able to figure out what it was but she'd never reveal that to her giddy man. Ken is planning to take her to Barbieland for a day and that means she can meet her childhood friends, the Barbies.

Currently, Ken is waiting for y/n at her apartment because she had exams to take. He is so proud of her for the silliest of accomplishments so y/n can hardly imagine the excitement he feels for her determination and wit at studying. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood for celebrating, or making out, or having a tickling session, or watching horse documentaries. Ken was devastated.

Y/n went straight to her bedroom to change into the fluffiest pyjamas possible before curling up next to Ken and letting out a deep sigh.

"Why did it have to happen today out of all days?!"

Ken is puzzled by her statement. His expression is rather adorable as he tries to understand what is going on in her head. He finally speaks in a sheepish but also curious manner.

"What did happen today that shouldn't have y/n?"

She huffs and buries her face in his arm. She is already tired from all the studying, frustrated with her headaches and exasperated from the too familiar cramps.

"It's nothing Ken...", she murmurs.

Under any other circumstances she would've been delighted to share this part of her human experience with Ken...however the thought of having to break down what periods are to her blonde partner has y/n riled up now.

Ken is of course too dramatic at his reaction to her dismissive answer. He takes an expression of pure heartbreak.

"Are you bored of me?! Oh no y/n!"

Y/n can't help but chuckle a bit and her mood lightens up. He can't be so pure, it's infuriatingly cute.

"It's my period Ken, it's not your fault I act like so grim..."

Ken's confusion is comically obvious and she decides to explain what needs to be explained.

By the end of her primary school teaching moment, Ken is looking at her with a new kind of awe. If women weren't fabulous enough before in his blue eyes, they definitely are now.

And so another monthly ritual is added to Ken's list of being y/n's hype man. He makes a huge, too bright and silly looking calendar and writes down his human's days of the month. She always has a bag of chocolates and plush toys waiting for her, maybe a flower or a cowboy accessory. Y/n has a whole collection at this point. The best part, though, is what comes after the marked days on the calendar end....

Let's just say Ken's libido is that of a teenager's and how could she complain when she's ovulating?

notes~~

Well, that's it... the little happy ending I had promised. Boytoy was the first thing I ever posted on here and the first thing I wrote in general for the public eye🥺 Looking back, I know I could have done it better, but I don't want to be ungrateful because Boytoy made my blog gain an audience. I want to expand my writing on other fandoms so stay tuned! Thanks for all the support <33

Dividers by; @cafekitsune

my masterlist

TIPS; CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

Tags; @notleclerc @moonmaiden1996 @vilovedr @goldenvespa @hope4rain19 @l8nightreads

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daegall · 1 year

Text

[00:00]

pairing: bf!hyuck x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship!AU, domestic!AU

warnings: none, but tell me if there are anything!!

word count: 714 words

a/n: hi let's pretend i didnt' dip for more than 2 months ahahaha anw bro i have 2 cats now and this was legit me the first week with them (minus the haechan part, unfortunately.) anw, i hope you enjoy and forgive me for not posting/replying to everything because i have a shit ton on my plate rn ty <3

networks/taglist: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kflixnet @nct-writers @k-radio + @soobin-chois @markhyuckselca @jaehunnyy @justalildumpling <3

It's midnight. You want to sleep, and cry at the same time. You glare at the source of your misery, Jeno's kitten that you promised to take care of while he was on a trip with Jaemin.

At first you were ecstatic to hear that he wanted you to help him out, and didn't understand why he had warned you about the small angel.

The cat was a devil.

This is the fourth sock he's ripped up and placed on your head, all in one night. You can't even start counting how many times he's woken you up at night by jumping on you or sitting on your face or scratching on your door.

All you want right now, is to sleep. And your boyfriend. God, you miss Donghyuck.

Speaking of the devil, your front door swings open, and it's none other than Donghyuck himself, freshly woken up just like you, hair all messy and shirt extremely crumpled from something you can only assume as sweet blissful sleep. Something that seems so out of touch with you.

"Hi," He mumbles as you look up at him from your seat on the floor.

"Hey," You respond.

"Where is he?"

And as if on cue, the tiny kitten runs from under your bed, running straight for Donghyuck's feet, where he paws at his socks. With a sigh, you reach out for the kitten, pulling him off.

Donghyuck observes your expression, the frustration and anger as you stare at the kitten. He makes his way to you, squatting next to you.

His fingers brush slightly by your cheek, brushing off the cat fur stuck to it, before he leans in to kiss your cheek tenderly. "It's okay, go rest. I'll take care of him until the morning."

Your eyes light up just moments after, the smile curling at the edges of your lips causing Donghyuck to grin as well.

You lean into his touch, feeling relief wash over you like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. "Really?"

Your boyfriend smiles, tilting his head when you do. "Of course,"

What you find funny, just minutes after you've handed Donghyuck the duty, is that you can't seem to find the sleepiness you had before. Donghyuck has the kitten in his care, playing with him and making sure he doesn't ruin any more socks, but you can't stop yourself from walking out your room to sit next to the both of them.

"What are you doing?" Donghyuck asks. "Aren't you tired?"

You are. You're extremely tired. But you find your wants right where you are, taking care of a silly cat with Donghyuck.

"Wanted to be with you," Is your response, before you carefully take the kitten in your arms.

Finally, a smile is on your lips as you play with the kitten.

And somehow, you've changed since the last time Donghyuck saw you with the very cat. You no longer have frustration and hatred in your expressions, you're admiring the kitten so dearly, chuckling when he tumbles down your legs.

Suddenly, Donghyuck can't take his eyes off you, he's sleepy as well, but it seems like he could stare at you for hours and not get sleepy, because that's just how much he loves you.

He loves that you still care for the kitten after it had annoyed you for hours, he loves when you tell him about the funny stories you have with the cat from the afternoon, he loves that you can't help but forgive and love the kitten after everything.

And despite you being so very sleep deprived, and it being very visible in your expressions, you are the most beautiful to him right now. In your pajamas, with the worst lighting from whatever light source is coming from your room, but the beauty of you caring is so ethereal.

And when you get up to chase the kitten around your room with laughs, you seem like an angel.

Donghyuck's cheeks hurt, he's been smiling so much, and he doesn't even care if they're sore, you always make him smile.

That night, he lies with you in his arms, and with the kitten curled up right next to you. He's exhausted, he should be sleeping, but god, does he love this sight of you.

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snippychicke · 8 months

Note

u asked for kuro ideas to write to riddle me this bestie:

some girl ate a devil fruit that gave her shapeshifting animal abilities so while shes in cat form kuro kinda..... adopts her, as a cat, not knowing.... OOPS THAT CAT IS ALSO HUMAN!

You're the best bestie for coming when I call. 😘 (And I mean, I was the one to pull you into One Piece Fandom anyways)

So here you go!

(Edited Sept. 29-- I needed more of this, so I finished the story. Hints of Spice but nothing to terribly nsfw)

--Set at a random port after the events of Syrup Village

We can all agree Kuro, more likely than not, loves cats.

Like, certified crazy cat dude. Especially black cats, but loves all cats to be honest. More relatable than humans, and far more reliable.

Then we have you, our animal-shifting devil fruit eater. Lingering around ports as a cat was a lot easier than being a human, and being a black cat typically guaranteed that you were more or less left alone by the superstitious sailors.

This makes it very easy to pilfer goods as a thief. You could scope out who has what and easily slip in and out without any questions

When you meet Kuro, you didn’t initially think anything of it other than he was one of the kind ones. You were used to many going ‘pssp pssp pssp’, but instead of an empty hand promising head scratches, Kuro actually had some smoked fish for you.

And well, you weren’t going to turn down a free meal. Or the scratches from ears to tail. The animal instincts that were usually wary of humans settled around him, so you weren’t to worry. He didn't even try for your belly as you laid on your side to enjoy the sunlight.

Unbeknownst to you, when you flopped down by his side as he sat on the pier (finding the ocean a nice place to figure out a plan for the future after the disaster of Syrup village) he decided right then and there that you were his.

Once he picked out which ship to steal, he plucked you from your sunbathing by the scruff of your neck and ran.

Before you realized what was going on, you were dumped on the deck of a small boat, the port drifting away. Yet instead of transforming then and there, you decided to hide as shouts and gunfire filled the air.

(Unfortunately, the fight-or-flight instincts were too hard to ignore in animal form.)

You weren't sure how much later it was when Kuro found you and tried to coax you from your hiding spot with food, but it was long enough for the island to be little more than a speck.

He was not expecting his new companion to shift into a human after they wiggled out of their hiding hole, their eyes narrowed in anger.

"What the hell?"

After a lot of confusion, arguing, and maybe some tense feelings, you do end up as partners.

After all, you're a thief of opportunity. But between his planning skills and your abilities, the sky is likely the limit.

The Marines are clueless that Kuro lives, and you're unknown considering no one thinks to link the black cat with the thefts.

A new version of cat burglary. You laugh about it, Kuro rolls his eyes, too cautious to believe your good luck will continue.

As it turns out, you both dream of an easier life. You share your dreams during the late nights sailing between islands while he listens quietly.

Part of him can't help but hope that since you have similar goals, maybe he doesn't have to be so cautious around you.

The hull is soon filled with stolen goods that you start selling to black market contacts into a diverse mix of stacks of Berries and precious metals and gems.

There are nights where you can't sleep, and you have been known to sneak into his quarters as a cat to curl up next to him, just to feel less alone.

He is well aware, though won't say anything. In the morning it will be like nothing happened, but through the night his hand will be on your back as you snuggle close to his chest.

He treasures those moments just as dearly as you do.

Kuro won't admit it, but he wishes you felt confident to come to him as a human as well. But he'll take whatever affection you are willing to give, because he is too cautious to ask for any himself.

When you start reaching the targeted goal, your heart starts feeling heavy, as does his.

Both of you had grown closer during your travels, slowly trusting in each other as well as falling in love.

You're not sure who suggested advancing the goal since things had been going so well, but it's unanimous. After all, better safe than sorry, right?

Between raids, you talk more about where you want to retire to, and sometimes will start adding to the others dreams.

Things take a turn when a theft ends up with some alcohol on board. And well, you deserve to celebrate a little.

Neither of you are drunk. Just relaxed. Inhibitions and walls lowered.

Kuro is the one who makes the first move, cupping your jaw like he would if you were a cat, and commenting on how brilliant your eyes are even as human.

One small little kiss quickly ends up with you in his lap, hands roaming each other slowly, studying the other. You indulge in the feel of the muscles he hides with his clothes. Running your hands through his hair.

He calls you beautiful. Claims you as his, calling you his beautiful thief. Kuro enjoys the shape of your body, squeezing and massaging your hips, waist, ass.

When you beg him please and admit that you need him, it breaks him. He carries you back to his cabin, to his bed. Admits to you how he had dreamed of this, how often he wished you would join him as a human, as he worships your body, carefully noting each little sigh and gasp.

Your nails digging into his back is bliss to him as he finally enters you. The careful, cautious part of him evaporates, leaving the pirate captain who takes delight in making you scream and beg. Whose strength and speed threaten to break the small bunk as he plows into you.

He says those three words as he comes, swearing he is never going to let you go. You're barely able to think straight after so many orgasms, and hope that your soft little kisses in the afterglow convey what you mean.

The fact you curl up next to him, human this time, and falling asleep says enough.

You do end up together in a small but bountiful town, a little townhouse with the comforts you both crave (and plenty of cats.)

… you also may take 'sailing trips' when you both feel too wild for your new life. Just once in a while. There are rumors of the ghost of Captain Kuro and an unearthly black cat that spread through the East Blue.

#one piece kuro #one piece live action #one piece #kuro one piece #kuro/reader #captain kuro #kuro #one piece klahadore #klahadore #Klahadore/reader

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devilfic · 10 months

Text

❝small favor❞

IV. another white guy from new york.

parts: previously / next plot: it's uncanny, but it can't be. right? because that would be stupid. and spider-man isn't stupid. right? pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: violence, guns, knives, blood mention, alcohol consumption, peter parker isn't beating the average white guy allegations, well. when he smiles like that he might. words: 6.7k.

You almost expect them to turn you away at the door when you hand over your badge, some paranoid part of you thinking they’ll take one look at you and know you don’t belong here, but the man at the check-in hands it back to you with a pleasant, “Enjoy your evening.”

That was half an hour ago, and Parker was nowhere in sight.

He was going to “meet you there” as Jameson promised, though without a clue what to look for, you found yourself aimlessly floating through perfume clouds of high society. You didn’t want to hit the bar this close to eight, but if you didn’t find an anchor quick, you’d vibrate right through the floor. Worst of all, you didn’t even have the guy’s number. What would you do if he was a no-show?

Your job, you suppose, sullen and already dreading the evening to come.

There’s no sign of Wilson Fisk either. In your usual setting, you might’ve already flagged down a guest or two to ask what they thought about the rumors, but your usual settings were messy, bloody, and out in the real world. Here, you had a list of questions to ask that didn’t even scratch your curiosity.

What’s your name? Are you excited to be here this evening? How does the Stark Charity Ball reflect the New York City you know and love? Were you attacked? Can you confirm Wilson Fisk was on the scene?

You hadn’t even made it to the fourth question before you’d given up. How would you last a night like this?

Slithering through the crowd, you make your way to the snack table with hopes to eat your way through the night. At least you could count on rich people to shell out on good cheese.

There’s a band playing in the corner, a gentle stringed melody that you appreciate over the chatter of the guests. You make your way over and let yourself get carried away in the tune, only glancing every so often at your watch to gauge the time. It was nine minutes to eight, nine minutes until Pepper Potts took the stage to start the night, and you still had no idea where your partner was.

It’s almost natural the way your hand finds your phone, swiping over the familiar contact name and pressing out a quick message.

The party can’t start without you.

Towering windows make up most of the ballroom, fading sunlight overpowering the chandeliers above, and you take advantage in hopes it might reveal your webbed friend hanging off the roof.

Almost immediately, you get a text back.

Aww, you really do like me :) No kidding. Are you already in place? Just about. Doing a quick perimeter check. You enjoying the party? I would be if my partner was here on time. Hey, cut Parker some slack! His train’s probably late and I don’t see any signs of Kingpin yet. I'm just glad you've stopped trying to fight me on this. If you can’t beat ‘em... And maybe look up every once in a while, you’re gonna run into somebody.

Just as your eyes scan the very last word, your senses go haywire. There’s cold liquid running down your hand and you've just run into something. When you finally tear your eyes away from your phone, you unfortunately realize that something is now wearing the remainder of your drink.

People nearby have formed a clearing around you, but it feels less out of courtesy and more to point and laugh at you. Regardless, you’ve got to fix this, “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

Your victim stands in a small puddle of sangria, the front of their tux dripping in it still, and you could see how red stains crawled up crisp white. You could only imagine how much every bit of their suit cost (and the Daily Bugle definitely didn’t have the budget to cover it).

They lift their copper head and you’re at first struck by the smile on their face, then the peppering of freckles across the bridge of their nose, and finally... their name.

He carefully removes his suit jacket to assess the damage to his shirt, “Nah, don’t worry. I was looking for a reason to leave early anyway.”

You’re breathless, certain you should be rushing to grab towels or begging him not to sue you into oblivion, but you don’t really get that far, “I’m... really sorry.”

He laughs, so genuine that you feel the tension in your shoulders deflate just at the sound. Just then, a waiter rushes over with a hand towel, insisting he lead him to the men’s room to clean up, but he’s waved off with little more than a “thank you” and “I’ll survive, I promise.”

He steps out of the puddle to allow someone to clean it up, bringing him that much closer to you. When he's done with the towel, he hands it off to you. His eyes trail to your chest and his eyes widen some, “The Daily Bugle. You a reporter?”

You realize he’s spotted your press badge and rush to introduce yourself, wiping absentmindedly at your sticky hand, “Uh... yes. Actually. Crime beat reporter.” You set your empty cup on a passing waiter’s tray and hold out your clean hand to shake.

His hand is warm, if not a little sticky like yours, though you have no grounds to complain, “Nice to meet you. I’m Harry.”

“Oh, I know.”

He quirks an eyebrow, still smiling, “Then... was that drink a calculated assault?”

“No! God, no. I genuinely wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Not very safe for a crime beat reporter, don’t you think?”

You’ve got to be on fire. You feel like it, struggling between a laugh and a whine, “I’m sorry you had to be the one to teach me that lesson.”

“No worries. Like I said, you did me a favor.” Harry glances around, “So… you're reporting on what, exactly? You betting on a robbery or something?”

The humor of that isn't lost on you, “Actually, I’m filling in tonight. Our usual reporter definitely wouldn’t have ruined your nice shirt.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I find this stain rather charming.”

You can’t help it. You giggle and he smiles even wider, “May I ask why you want to escape so soon?”

“Not if you’re gonna write it down.”

“Off the record? In exchange for the stain.”

Harry Osborn has a boyish look to him even though he’s steadily approaching 26, some baby fat still clinging to his cheekbones when he smiles wide enough, “Well, this was my first stop since hopping off a nine hour flight from Oxford and I’m, as the English say, absolutely knackered. I was gonna leave in half an hour after photos but…” He laughs, casting a look over his shoulder at the stage, “I’ve made my donation. I won’t be missed.”

Perking up with an idea, you reach into your bag and pull out a recorder, “In that case, how about I get you down for a comment on your generous donation of…”

“Five million.”

You blink, swallowing hard, “Five million… to make up for it? I'll even throw in a few questions about your study at Oxford. I hear you're working on a revolutionary breakthrough with lab-grown bacteria that breaks down plastic.”

Harry's eyes light up. For a moment, the image of Harry Osborn is just Harry, “You sure Jameson would let you publish something nice about an Osborn?”

The Daily Bugle was no friend to Spider-Man, but neither was it a friend to Norman Osborn. You recall some of the more scalding headlines about Oscorp’s president that you’d published in the past. It was the one thing you and Jameson could agree on. “You know Jameson well?”

“Of course. I’ve got a buddy who works there too, actually. You might know him. His name’s-”

Harry’s voice is drowned out by the collective oohing and awing of the crowd when the lights dim, shrouding the grand ballroom in the fading glow of the sun. The stage, once empty, is now illuminated with the presence of Pepper Potts. Uproarious applause fills the room. Harry smiles politely at you. His buddy would be a conversation for later.

You want to focus on Pepper, you really do, but it’s like you’ve broken out of a spell the second Harry’s eyes leave yours, and you find yourself once again scanning the crowd for Parker. There was no good reason for him to be this late and you couldn’t even give him a piece of your mind about it.

You shoot off an indignant text to Peter.

Your guy better have been hit by a cyclist on the way here or he’s getting an earful when I see him. Pepper looks amazing :(

But no instant reply. In fact, three minutes pass and there’s nothing. You glance up to the windows for any sign of him watching and find none. Was... he here?

You glance at Harry. If Jillian were here, she’d punch you in the face for what you’re about to do, for the opportunity you're about to squander. Okay, maybe not a punch, but it’d be violent.

But then you’re thinking about Peter, about that night that changed everything, about his blood and bruises and the men with guns for hands. You think about how Peter worried for you. You think about Harry, who has just donated five million dollars to charity, and how there are over a hundred more of him packed in this ballroom right now. You think about Wilson Fisk, and how much havoc he could wreak if he put Spider-Man out for good.

And then you're elbowing yourself through the crowd, searching for the nearest emergency stairwell, hoping that if Peter’s still watching he might meet you halfway. Parker and those questions be damned. You'd find a way to make it up to Jameson somehow.

You’re about ten feet away from the nearest exit when someone takes a hold of your wrist, a few seconds away from the end of Pepper’s speech, and whoever is holding you back has a grip so iron it stings. You can’t clearly see the face of who’s grabbed you but it doesn’t feel familiar. Your heart jumps into your throat. Had Fisk's men infiltrated the room already? Had they gotten to Spidey? Did they know you? Were you next?

You’ve got no pocket knife on you, but you have a fist.

You curl your fingers inward and aim right for your captor’s head. Your fist makes contact with skin. The room erupts into thunderous applause. The lights go up.

You never actually land the punch, but your captor looks a little too wide-eyed to be one of Fisk’s men, too soft in the face. His own hand has completely stopped yours in its tracks, just a hair away from breaking his nose, and he’s staring at you like a deer in headlights. A big, brown doe-eyed deer. “Uh, hi,” your eyes flicker down to the camera hanging from his neck, almost blocking the badge beneath it that reads "P. B. Parker", and then you meet his eyes with the same bewilderment, “sorry I’m late.”

Parker is about average height with a build you can't quantify when his shirt is draping off him. It's a ridiculously huge plaid thing, the kind of thing someone would wear to hide themselves, but all he does is stand out in the sea of Armani and Givenchy. Old jeans, old shirt, high-tops, and a muddy-grey beanie to top it all off. It was a wonder they let him in the door at all.

What you can feel is the strength behind his hand as it holds your fist in place. Some people are looking—you realize, after the tremors of your punch reverberate back up your arm—and so you yank your hand back before any security can take notice.

Your partner waits a full second before holding out his own, offering a subtle, wobbly smile, "I would've been here sooner but... traffic, ya know?"

His voice is low, you notice this next. Practically a mumble. You kind of realize why your coworkers said you weren't missing much; outside of his awkward mannerisms and sweet, unassuming baby face, he looked like any other white guy from New York. He also seemed like he didn't want to be seen or heard, and you imagined that Jameson had no problem with that.

But his mumbling forces you to take notice of his lips so you can read them, and their thin, blushy quality is only marred by a little dryness. Broken by biting or... or something. "You're late." Is all you manage to say.

His lips part, turning downward, "Yeah, I know," he stutters, the pitch of his voice going up a hair, "I said- um, I caught the last half of Mrs. Potts’ speech." And then he turns his camera to you, flicking through images that are too small on the screen for you to assess the quality of. You actually have no doubt they're good, but you're upset he's late and you're certain there's nothing remarkable about this guy—nothing at all—and yet you can't stop staring.

"You know Spidey?" You blurt out next, and his eyes widen and zero in on you. You don't know why he's surprised. "He's mentioned me, hasn't he?"

Parker blinks, "Oh! Yeah. Yeah. All the time. You're very... good. At your job."

"Thank you. So are you."

And wouldn't you know it, he actually blushes. It's sweet and alarming how quickly red blooms across the apples of his cheeks, how his hands wobble around his camera a bit, how it disarms you for a moment. It'd be cute if you could just figure out what about him was throwing you off.

In fact, you're so enthralled in figuring out that something that you see his lips moving but just miss his question, barely hearing the tail-end of it. You watch his lips again as you ask him to repeat it, but the musicians have started up a jaunty tune with trumpets and high white keys, so you duck closer to him and ask him to repeat it once more.

"I asked-" And as you get closer, you have an excuse to look at him more deeply.

Your eyes follow the curve of his mouth to his chin (and all its little hairs that he hadn't caught shaving), down to his neck where you see, just peeking out beneath the lip of his beanie, a curl. You've abandoned his question now. You just feel, as strange as it is, that you need a closer look...

Your hand is moving before your mind can catch up with it, until it's caught in Parker's halfway to his throat. You're so close to him that you can see the way the skin of his chin rolls with the effort to lean away from you, or the honey speckles in his eyes that are all but eclipsed by his blown-wide pupils.

His fingers are latched around yours. He's not using the same strength he was before, doesn't need to, but you can sort of feel it beneath the callouses. Even then, it's so gentle. You don't know why you react with just as mush wonder. The world might as well be at half-speed. You almost wish him to speak again because you've got nothing to say for yourself here.

Parker looks on at you, still holding onto your hand. He smells... like the city.

"Do you-" He starts, chokes on his spit, and then swallows, "are you always this friendly when you're tipsy?"

You blanch. "What? I'm not-" You yank your hand back, cup it to your mouth and nose, and breathe in the sangria. Could he smell it on your breath? "I'm not tipsy. I barely even had a drink before I spilled it all over..."

You catch Parker's eye to find him looking interested. "Spilled it all over...?"

"Someone. Whatever. It was an accident."

"You spilled your drink on someone?"

"It was an accident."

"You know, I was feeling real bad about showing up late, but Jameson's gonna have a field day with this." You're mortified. He wasn't interested, he was amused. "Are we gonna get sued?"

"No!" Your voice draws the attention of a couple nearby, making you shrink even closer to Parker, "I told you it was an accident and I apologized. And you're still not off the hook for being late."

He folds his arms across his chest, smiles steadily this time, and agrees. The action is so unmistakable that it saps all the lightheartedness right out of you. Parker notices the change.

The only thing that breaks the moment is Harry Osborn finding you both.

Your head whips at the first "Peter!", thinking you'll see red and blue somewhere nearby, but Harry is gunning straight for Parker with the widest smile on his face. You break away just in time for him to envelop Parker in a big, friendly hug that would've knocked Parker off his feet if not for how solid he was. A few onlookers take in the scene, some amused, others not so much.

It takes you a moment to digest that Harry meant Parker, had called him Peter with such love and affection that there was no way he was mistaken, and Parker had returned the hug a beat later without correcting him.

There were probably a million Peters in New York alone. And yet...

They stay intertwined a minute longer, only breaking away so that Harry could hold... Peter's face in his hands. "Peter Parker! What the hell are you doing here?" Harry seems to remember you're there. He releases Peter and points to you, "So, you two know each other after all. Pete's the buddy at the Bugle I told you about. We've been best friends for years."

As if this Peter business wasn't enough for you to wrap your head around, you struggle to imagine these two being best friends. One of New York City's richest heirs and a contractor for the Daily Bugle. Your disbelief is evident as you ask, "How did you two meet...?"

"College. We went to ESU together. We were even roommates before I went off to Oxford." Harry smiles proudly, patting Peter on the back. It's then that you notice Peter is looking very, very uncomfortable. You wonder for a moment if this is all some elaborate joke Harry's playing, but it hadn't struck you as his type of humor.

This is, in fact, a man named Peter Parker. He works for the Daily Bugle, he's best friends with Harry Osborn, he works with Spider-Man, and they both share a name. Unremarkable Peter Parker. Nothing you were missing, they'd said.

Peter must see that you're focused hard on him, so he turns to Harry, "Yeah, Oxford. Why aren't you... there? Again?"

Harry laughs, unbothered, "Don't tell me you didn't miss me?"

"No, it's just... last I remember, your dad wanted you there until your project got approved."

The very mention of Norman Osborn kills the mood entirely. Harry's smile falls quick, though he tries to hide it, and shuffles a bit uncomfortably. "That was the deal. But you know dad: the world revolves around his every whim." Harry's eyes cut to you so fast that you tense up, recovering quickly. "Off the record."

Jillian would not accept that. You, on the other hand, swallow it down and tuck it away for another day, "Anything for a friend of a friend."

That gets Harry smiling again, however terse. The conversation quickly changes course as Harry pulls at the stained white of his shirt to show Peter, "Speaking of: you like? Our new mutual friend gave it to me."

Peter glances at you, chuckling with a nervous edge, and grabs at the fabric to examine for himself, "Something tells me you deserved it."

Harry immediately resorts to banter that Peter melts into. It was no doubt now that they were friends, that Peter's awkwardness had only been on account of you being here.

You can only smile and nod, smile and nod, while you watch Peter's every move. You couldn't say anything even though you were bursting, but now your heart was beginning to pound in your ears, making it hard for you to do what you were trying to pretend you weren't doing.

Spider-Man was smart. Beneath the quips, he was extremely smart. He wouldn't tell you his real name and then show up here as a civilian, so brazen, knowing that you'd instantly figure out it was him. That'd be too easy. He trusted you, sure, but he wasn't stupid. He'd been uncomfortable at the very thought of unmasking when you'd mentioned it last night. If Peter was... Peter, he wouldn't have come at all. Because that would be stupid.

And he wouldn't have bothered to pretend, up until the last second, that he wasn't Peter, if he was just going to flay himself before you like this. Because you would've figured it out eventually.

So, surely, there were a million Peters in New York and you happened to know two of them. And they knew each other. And one of them was a superhero. Of course.

You slip your phone out, checking your recent messages with your heart in your throat. If Peter wasn't Peter, he'd have texted you back by now. Because Peter—fuck—Spidey wouldn't miss a chance to make that joke.

There's one new message. You barely get to see what it says before broken glass sprays from above.

There’s a cacophony of sound all at once. Glass breaking, screaming amongst the crowd, and the sound of gunfire letting off into the ceiling. One minute, the room had been in peaceful bliss, and the next, a tidal wave of terrified guests were rushing at you.

You’re lucky that Peter’s arm is like iron, strong enough to rip you back and away from the crowd that converges on the exits, because if you had stayed in your spot for a second longer you would have been trampled underfoot. Like your phone, which is in pieces the second it slips out of your hand.

Harry is there too, huddled against the two of you in the corner, but that doesn’t stop you three from all being pressed upon by the panicking crowds. There’s no rhyme or reason, no order in the chaos. Beautiful clutches embedded with Swarovski crystals lay abandoned at your feet. Everyone in the room can see, whatever it might be, that their life is worth more than a single thing in this room. Even worth more than the lives of the other guests they shove to get out first.

You try your best to see over the heads of the swarm to get a glimpse of what had set the entire party off, and immediately two things are visible. One: Pepper Potts is center stage, the bright white stage lights beating down on her. If it weren’t for the sweat beading at her brow, you’d think her bored. The second thing was that there was a man standing beside her who wasn’t standing there before, a microphone in one hand and a gun in the other.

Even from all the way at the back of the room, you could see the gun trembling in his grip as the barrel kissed Pepper’s temple.

The next thing is his voice. It’s loud, feedback screeching off the walls so high that you think they might shatter the windows. The crowd is loud and he’s louder. You can hear him saying something about how everyone shouldn’t leave just yet, that they’d want to see this front row and not on the 10 o’clock news. You do not see Kingpin. This man is utterly alone.

Harry is shouting something at you, you can feel his breath and the spit that flies out in the hurry of his words, but you can barely make out what he’s saying over the guests. Peter clutches you both even closer.

“We… we have to…” You start, glancing up at the windows for any sign of Spider-Man, but you see nothing. Your eyes drop to Peter’s to find him already staring right at you. You’ve no idea what’s going through his head, and the adrenaline rushing behind your eyes makes it hard to speculate. You only know what you need to say, “…we need to find Spider-Man.”

“We need to leave!” Harry argues. He wriggles out of Peter’s grip and starts pulling you both toward the nearest exit, but he only makes progress with pulling you forward.

You were about to argue back until you felt Peter’s hand at the base of your spine, pushing you into Harry with ease and right toward one of the exit doors. You turn, clutching onto Harry as to not lose him in the crowd, only to find Peter isn’t following you. “You both need to get out of here.”

“Both? Wh- Peter! We’re not leaving without you!” Your attempt to grab at him is futile. He shrugs away from your touch, keeps pushing you and Harry through the stampede as if he really intended on staying behind. “Peter!”

He finally looks you in the eyes that second time, the desperation with which you’d said his name snapping him out of some dissociative spell, “I’ll be right behind you! I’m gonna help get people out. Some got trampled, I-I’ve got to-”

Harry is next to admonish him, “Pete, come on. This isn’t the time to play fucking hero!”

But Peter’s not listening again—eyes faraway, slipping over the crowd as if searching for something—he’s heading back into the fray, calling to you some half-hearted promise that he’d follow soon, and then his head disappears into the whirlwind of bodies. You were able to follow him up until the moment his hat got pulled off, and then… nothing.

The current pushes and pulls at you and Harry, dragging you down the hallway. You feel your ankle twist awkwardly and are thankful that Harry is still clinging to you because had he not been, you would’ve been dragged down and trampled for sure. He holds you upright, pressing you to his side, assuring you over the noise that you’d go back in to get Peter in a minute.

You think that Harry Osborn is much kinder than his father seemed to be, and that you really do owe him a good soundbite in the Bugle after this.

You feel a draft coming from outside, promising you were close to being free from the confines of the hallway. You grab Harry’s hands and peel them off of you, pushing him forward into the crowd without a second thought, just as you see the light of the city come up ahead. His head whips to you. He calls your name as he’s swept away, but you press yourself hard against the wall and let the crowd lead him out to safety.

The crawl back to the ballroom is awful.

There are fewer people escaping, thankfully, and so it’s less like an undertow, but there are so many people and all of them are perfectly fine with throwing their bodies forward with caution thrown to the wind.

It takes you longer than a minute to get back to the door you’d come out of, even longer to squeeze through with elbows hitting you square in the chest and heels digging into your feet.

The room is less than a third of what it had been when the gunman had arrived. You frantically search for Peter in the remaining, scattered crowd; people are frozen in awe, in horror. Some people in the crowd were begging the gunman to reconsider, and others were praying. Your heart sank. A woman was about to die and there was virtually nothing you could do.

You look up to the windows one more time. You couldn’t see him, couldn’t call him, but you close your eyes and pray too. Whoever he was. Wherever he was.

And then you hear it. The familiar thwip! cuts through the air. You open your eyes and a second later, the clatter of the gunman’s pistol hitting the floor follows. You’re blessed with a whole five seconds of glee before the gunman surges forward and pulls a knife on Pepper, holding it to her throat in a panic.

“Easy there, buddy.” Your head snaps up to the rafters. From a single thread of spider silk, Spidey descends from the ceiling with a hand outstretched. He’s a ways away from the two of them, offering some sense of space. “You don’t wanna do this.”

The gunman has since abandoned his microphone, but his voice reverberates in the near empty room just fine, “Get out of here, Spider-Man! You’re next!”

“Why don’t you and I hash it out, then? Just you and me. Leave Mrs. Potts out of it.”

“No, no,” the man mutters; you can hear sirens growing closer to the building, “she’s part of it. You’re all part of it.”

Pepper speaks up for the first time, “Whatever you want, I can get it. This doesn’t have to end badly.”

That must’ve been the wrong thing to say. The man jerks his knife closer to her skin and you can see, after a moment, a thin bead of red dribbles down her collarbone.

Spidey holds out both his hands, “Whoa, whoa, whoa-”

And it happens in a flash. One second, Pepper is being held at knifepoint, and the next, she’s being pushed off the stage.

Spider-Man immediately swoops in and catches her, swinging her to safety on the other side of the room, but you’re too mesmerized by the new body on stage pinning the attacker down by the throat. How you’d missed him, you’ve no clue, but he’s wrestling the man onto his stomach and restraining his arms behind his back just as the doors to the ballroom are thrown wide open.

Cops stream in, rushing the stage to take the gunman into custody. Some head straight for Spider-Man and Pepper, but it’s the guests that catch your attention. There are maybe fifty of them in the room altogether, but applause catches on like wildfire. All of them, and the musicians and the cops at the door, erupt into applause.

Because the man on stage, the man who’d thrown himself at the gunman and disarmed him, the man who had just saved Pepper Potts’ life… was Wilson Fisk.

You can’t find Harry anywhere. Most of the guests had stayed behind out of sheer curiosity, but Harry was nowhere in sight.

You stand out on the sidewalk with the rest of the crowd as the police escort the gunman into a cop car, murmurs flitting from ear to ear on who he’d been, what he’d wanted, and whether they should stay behind for interviews. Pepper was still inside getting questioned. But Wilson Fisk was out here.

You’d been in the same room as Fisk only once before, the night of his infamous press conference three years ago when you were still an intern trailing after the likes of Jillian. He’d struck you as a measured man, one who carried himself with impenetrable humility, and even in the face of his detractors kept a cool head.

Back then, he’d been accused of money laundering, something to do with all his companies not adding up. In and out of trouble, he was. Jameson had likened him to a cockroach: never quite dead, even when he really ought to be by now.

And now he stands before reporters, guests, onlookers, and the like, giving a statement about his “harrowing” rescue of Mrs. Potts. He hadn’t even been invited.

You know you should be right up there with the rest of them, fiending for a soundbite, but you’re gnawing your bottom lip from afar trying to catch him in a lie. Something about this was refusing to add up, and thankful as you were that Pepper was safe, the whole thing was off. Convenient, even.

You watch him smile and nod, none of the charm ever reaching his dead eyes, but everyone eats it up anyway.

Just as you’re about to force yourself to head over, knowing Jameson would have your head otherwise, you’re flying.

“Jesus!” You screech, scrambling to cling onto Spidey as the crowd below watches the two of you swing away. Your stomach drops as he carries you to a nearby rooftop, and you all but collapse when you meet solid ground. “Oh my God, don’t ever do that again.” You expect a quip in return, but when you look behind you, Spider-Man is sitting with his head on his knees, utterly silent. Your stomach drops again, “Spidey?”

That gets him to look at you, big white eyes narrowing, “We’re not on a first name basis anymore?”

You’re stunned, and then you scowl, “Peter Parker.” When he says nothing, you repeat it, “Peter Parker.”

“That’s his name.”

“His? Or yours?”

His eyes stay narrowed at you, only now his head is lifted upright, “I’m not the only Peter in New York.”

“I’m sorry if I find it a little suspicious there’s a Peter Parker who works at the Daily Bugle selling the only decent photos of you in the city, who just so happens to share your name and- and your lips.” That last part awkwardly tumbles out of you and his eyes are no longer narrowed.

“My lips?”

Peter’s lips flash in your mind. You don’t know how to say it without sounding more suspicious than him, “You’re… you both… your mouths are very similar.”

A beat passes. The silence isn’t enough to convince you you’re wrong, but it is enough to make you fidget.

But then Peter bursts into laughter, and, well, it’s not funny to you at all. “Quit it.” You demand, meek.

“I’m sorry, I just- I stick to walls and you think it’s crazy that we’re both named Peter?”

“You can’t convince me I’m off with this one.”

“There were like… four Peters in my graduating class!”

“He even kind of sounded like you! When I could hear him clearly.”

“He sounds nothing like me!”

“He sounds a lot like you.” You say, and wish that there had been a moment when you’d caught him speaking at an octave higher than his, frankly, forced baritone and an octave below shouting. Peter—this Peter—has a voice you know well enough. You’ve memorized his vocal fry when his voice gets a little too high, that nervous ramble-y pitch of his. It’s so distinct. If you had just… heard him use it just once, “You can’t make me feel crazy about this.”

“’m not trying to make you feel crazy, I swear. You’re one of the smartest people I know. I’d be skeptical too.” You wait patiently for a confirmation or a denial, but he gives you none. He takes a deep breath and stares out over the edge of the building where Fisk is being escorted to his car. You crawl over to sit beside him.

Part of you wants to ask him to prove it, to peel his mask off and show you, but you can’t make yourself do it. He’d only just given you his name. He trusted you with that. You’re wary about pushing it.

Because the pieces fit so well, but he’d never make that kind of mistake. Would he?

Would he think it was a mistake?

Peter sighs. “Hey, you alright?” You ask.

He doesn’t really look at you, though his voice answers at a lower volume than before, "This was too convenient.” You hum in agreement. “That guy… he said we were all ‘part of it’. Like it was planned.”

“You think Fisk planned it.”

“I think he’s a little too eager to be in the spotlight about it.” But getting that off his chest doesn’t seem to change the solemnness in his tone.

“Pepper was never in danger.” Your hand presses against the scratchy concrete, itching to touch him. To comfort him. “If this was Fisk’s plan, it was all for publicity. Pepper was never gonna get hurt.”

“She got hurt.” Peter whips his head to you.

You knew Iron Man was his mentor, had plucked him off the streets and thrust him into a world of gods and aliens before his untimely death. And maybe with Tony gone, he thought it was his job to keep her safe.

“Peter, you can’t… you can’t think like that. You can punch your way through a lot of things, but that? That back there? You did what you could.”

“I could do more.”

You get that urge to touch him again, only this time, you let yourself do it.

Your hand touches the side of his mask, cupping below his ear. He watches you the entire time but doesn’t move to stop you. Your thumb rests on his cheek and your pinky- it brushes the overlap between his mask and the rest of his suit, “It’s not just that you’re Peter, too.”

You feel the muscles in his neck twitch, “What?”

“It’s that… in all that chaos, you chose to stay behind. To help people. You made sure me and Harry got out, but you stayed behind. Everyone was so busy trying to save their own lives and you were thinking about them. I don’t know Peter Parker very well. Maybe he’s just that kind of guy. But I know you. I know if anyone in that room was you, he’d be it.” Peter doesn’t say anything. You feel the tension in his jaw, feel the way his throat bobs with a hard swallow, but he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you. You stare hard into those white eyes and imagine a someone staring back at you. “Or maybe that’s just the kind of people Spider-Man hangs out with.”

He huffs humorously, “Yeah, that checks out. We’re friends, after all.”

Your heart swells to hear it, “friends”. “Don’t make this about me when I’m trying to expose your secret identity.”

“I think Peter Parker would be flattered you think so highly of him. He was kind of worried he made the wrong impression… after you tried to punch him in the face.”

Your jaw drops, having nearly forgotten in the mess of the night. “Well, maybe Peter Parker shouldn’t go around grabbing people in the dark.”

“You were walking so fast. How else would Peter Parker get your attention?”

“Are you just saying Peter Parker over and over to convince me that you’re both completely different people?”

“I just think it’s funny that you don’t believe more than two Peters can live in the same city.”

“There are other factors!”

“Can’t believe you’re the type of reporter who flies by the seat of their assumptions. But you do work for Jameson, after all.” When Peter stands, you naturally follow.

You decide to switch tactics, bruising the alter ego, “You- you know what? You’re right. You couldn’t be Peter Parker. Peter Parker would be shaking and crying if I so much as raised my voice at him.”

“Wow. I’m gonna tell him you said that—wrap your arms around me?” And he snakes an arm around your waist, sending your heart into overdrive again, “he’s never gonna talk to you again. He’s probably gonna issue a copyright claim every time you put his pics on the Web-Blog, now. Legs too.”

“Wait, no. We are not swinging again. We are taking the stairs.”

“How else am I gonna get you off the roof? Legs, please.”

“We can take the stairs!”

“Door’s probably locked and Kingpin’s already on his way back to his super-secret evil lair. Legs or I’m webbing you up in a baby wrap.”

You grumble. It’s enough to make you grab onto his shoulders and jump, locking your ankles across his back with the fear of gravity instilled in you. You reckoned he’d be fast enough to catch you if you did fall. The very possibility makes you sick to your stomach, though. “Please don’t drop me.”

Peter dips his chin into the crevice where your neck meets your shoulder. "Don't worry," and it's not even that you hear his voice, you just feel it, "I've only dropped someone once."

And you're plummeting off the ledge before you get the chance to run away.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #spider-man #tom holland #marvel #mjwrites #pp; small favor

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lovesickfoolwp · 2 years

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right where you left me; part 2 — jj maybank

part 1

pairing : reader x jj maybank x kiara carrera

summary : after secretly liking kiara for several years (and leaving you to be with her), jj thought that he would be on cloud nine when he heard her saying she felt something for him. after all, he took a risk. but was it worth also risking his relationship with you? and what if they were better off as best friends than lovers?

jj and kiara were celebrating a month since they were together when they came to the restaurant where you worked, and now, as the second month started since the two of them were a couple, things had started to get complicated because 'the honeymoon phase' has passed.

they had started arguing about little things, like that one time when jj refused to help kie to clean after they had a party at the chateau. or when she wasn't on his side when he quarreled with pope, as if she was supposed to take their childish quarrels seriously.

and all this just because kiara was still feeling guilty after finding out that you were dumped because of her, and because jj had started to realize that the spark he felt when she told him she liked him had meanwhile started to go out because you can't make a thing that's already finished continue, no matter how much you want it. it's just not the same as it used to be. not always. and unfortunately, not in this case.

with a little time before going to the party on the beach, where jj knew there would be a lot of people, probably you too, he felt uneasy. and being next to kiara, outside in the hammock, waiting for the rest to be ready, he didn't say anything. and the silence of the night and the silence between the two of them was really starting to affect kiara. she also felt that they were not suitable as a couple. this situation was not beneficial to any of them.

so... she was the one who opened the inevitable discussion.

"where would you like to go for our one year anniversary?" she asked, placing her palm over jj's hand to bring him down to earth.

it was a trick question, to see if he could see his future with her as her lover.

caught by surprise, having his mind elsewhere, he asked "do you think we'll catch the one year anniversary?"

she nodded. "don't you?" she asked gently. she cared for him, but it hurt her more to see him absent.

love cannot be forced and she understood that. feelings come and go. none of them deserved to suffer and continue, if they were not happy.

jj realized too late that his mouth spoke first and sighed, only to release his hand and turn his body towards her to get a better look at her. "kie..."

"just tell me if you still have feelings for me, jj. I promise i won't be upset if the answer is negative." she smiled at him. "we both deserve the truth."

"i—" he wanted to say something, but he stopped. then he took a second to put his thoughts in order and continued. "i was so fixated on the idea of having you, that I didn't think that things had changed in the meantime. i tried to bring to life some feelings that, unfortunately for both of us, but more so for you, had set in a long time ago. i feel so bad, kie." he stops talking and puts his hands on his head, avoiding her gaze. "i don't deserve you."

"jj..." she whispered his name and reached out to take his hands off his face. to make him look at her. "it's not about who deserves whom, j. some relationships are just not meant to work, even if the persons care about one another."

"you're not mad at me?" he asked, and her heart broke.

she didn't want to make him feel that way. she wanted to be in his life, but she didn't want to have the wrong role. and the role of being his girlfriend did not suit her.

"why would i be mad at you, fool?" she teased, making him smile. "you didn't intentionally do something to hurt me, did you?"

he shooked his head and the silence fell again, to let them put their thoughts in order.

"so, we really broke up?" he asked her as he helped her out of the hammock, after he had gotten out first.

she approved, holding out her hand so that he could help her and when she reached the ground, next to him, she raised a finger towards him. "but don't think that means you got rid of me!" she threatened him to loosen the atmosphere a bit.

"i wasn't planning on doing that." he said honestly, smiling down at her.

so, during the party, where jj saw you at topper's arm, he started to feel guilty. he had given up on you to run away towards an obsession he had a long time ago. only to see that that obsession was just an idea created in his mind and that the reality it didn't have the same charm.

he was standing away from the group and from the rest of the world, at the bonfire, looking at you as he took sips of his beer.

he did not noticed pope when he sat down beside him, until he put his hand on his shoulders. "hey." pope said and by the time jj was looking at him, he was also looking in your direction. "isn't she the girl you were seeing before?"

"who? her?" jj was acting dumb, taking one last look at you, when you were laughing at something topper had said, turning then his full attention to his friend.

"yeah." pope gave him a small smile, feeling a little bit bad for bringing it up. "what was her name? y/n?"

"yeah. y/n y/l/n." he said and set the bottle down next to him after he finished drinking it. "she's a pogue." he added and shrugged, as if he knew that mentioning this detail was not important, but he said it anyway.

seeing him so miserable, pope felt sorry for him, on the inside, but on the outside he refrained from laughing at him. how dumb must he be to not to do something about it when it was so clear that seeing you with a topper bothered him? and he knew from kiara that the relationship between them wasn't working, so they ended it a few hours ago. he had to open his eyes.

"what?" he suddenly turned towards him, with a grimace on his face, when jj saw him grinning at him.

"what do you mean?" pope hurried to defend himself, raising his hands in the air. "i didn't said or did anything!"

however, the grin was still on his face.

"well, your face sure does!" jj replied and rolled his eyes.

pope started laughing and jj hit him in the arm, making him fall from the beach chair he was sitting on.

pope continued to laugh, shouting at him "you're jealous!".

"no, i'm not."

just like pope's face earlier, his face also said otherwise.

while jj helped pope up, feeling bad that he had pushed him, you appeared in front of them. "who's jealous?" you asked looking at both of them and jj's jaw clenched when he saw you.

speaking of the devil.

"oh!" said the pope and pretended to hear something, putting his hand to his ear as he rose from his chair. "was that john b?"

"sit—" jj wanted to tell him to sit down, but he was quieter than you and he wasn't heard.

"i didn't hear anything."

you looked at him strangely, with an eyebrow raised.

"i'm sorry, bro, i've got to go." he said and put his hand on jj's shoulder again, squeezing it gently this time. "see you later, y/n!"

and with that being said, he had disappeared from the landscape, leaving you two alone. jj, cursing him in his mind, and you, being perplexed.

you wanted to sit next to him, but he got up and he tried to keep the distance between you.

"is that how it will be from now on?" you asked, speaking louder so he could hear you, and he stopped in his tracks.

a few seconds had passed, seconds in which he inhaled deeply, until he turned to look at you.

"what are you talking about?"

"what am i talking about?” you snorted, feeling yourself getting angry. "before you came to the restaurant, i hadn't seen you for about a month! you ignore me!"

he crossed his hands over his chest, looking at you intensely. "i don't want to hurt you more than i already have."

"really?" you asked him, fake laughing, and he approved. "do you think it would hurt me if you behaved like a normal person and at least said hello when i'm passing by?" you didn't give him time to answer and continued, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes. "no, jj! it hurts me even more when you pretend you don't know me!"

and he felt miserable. he let his arms fall to his side, but his gaze was still on you so he felt countless knives being stabbed into his heart when he noticed your eyes shining with tears.

you were crying again. because of him.

"i thought i was doing us both a favor by avoiding seeing you." he whispered, not sure if he should say it out loud.

"how the hell would that do me a favor, hm?" now you were the one who crossed her arms over her chest after running a nervous hand through your hair.

"i don't know, okay?" he said harshly and rolled his eyes. "i don't know what i'm doing and standing so close to you doesn't help me at all!"

you smiled sadly, and wanted to turn to leave. "then excuse me, i will be leaving."

but he stopped you. as you had done with him.

"y/n, please." he said your name like a prayer, asking you to stay by his side. "i'm trying my best to do the right thing, but i don't know how the hell i manage to hurt the people I care about in the process. i didn't mean it to sound like that, believe me."

you stopped and sighed, "so what was that supposed to sound like, j?"

he knew that he was the one who had put an end to it. he knew that he had run away from you to run after an unreal illusion, and now, when he still felt attracted to you when you were close to him and jealous when you were around another boy, he thought he didn't deserve to even talk to you. but he wanted to. he wanted to share with someone what he was thinking because then, after hearing himself say his thoughts out loud, maybe they would make more sense.

"when kiara told me that she liked me, i let myself be led by the impression that i could feel for her what i once felt, and i made the mistake of putting an end to what we had. in that month in which i didn't look for you and i tried to avoid you, i kept lying to myself that the feelings i had for her returned. but after seeing you again, i felt what i felt the first time i saw you combined with all those times you made me feel so many things for you just by being yourself. and i couldn't get those moments out of my head." he said everything in a hurry, but you somehow managed to keep up with him. still, you didn't know if you wanted to be as far away from him as possible or to be so close to him that there wouldn't be a millimeter of distance between you. "i still feel something for you, y/n, but i don't think that i deserve a second chance after what i've put you through. i don't want to be selfish."

when you heard him admit that his feelings for you were still there, you felt both a sense of relief, but also a sense of heartbreak. how could you know that what he said was true, if he didn't seem sure of himself either?

"you know..." you started to say, being also overwhelmed by nostalgia when he mentioned the moments when you were sure of yourselves. "that night i wanted to tell you 'i love you' for the first time," you said with a sad smile, thinking what would have happened if you had told him then.

his thoughts stopped. now the only thing he was thinking about was your last sentence, especially the last three words that had slipped from your lips. he imagined that he could turn back the time to watch your lips say those words over and over again. he imagined how he would listen to you saying those words over and over again.

over and over again.

"do you still feel it?" he asked, forgetting everyone and everything. only you mattered.

being out of touch, not knowing what effect your words had on him, you asked "feel what?".

he swallowed hard and then answered you. "do you still love me?"

caught off guard by his question, you felt yourself sinking into the sand you were standing on. in fact, you wish this would happen. that way you wouldn't have had to admitted it.

"yes."

that's all he needed. in the next second, without thinking about what would happen next, he immediately covered the distance between you and pressed his lips harshly to yours. the kiss was one full of desire, the desire that will grind you both and make you forget about yourselves. he didn't want to detach himself from you anymore. he didn't want to act without thinking carefully before anymore.

he just wanted to continue wanting you, as he wanted you in that moment.

feeling the need for air, you put your head back a little, his hands squeezing your waist as close to his body as possible. you took a deep breath and asked him "did you feel anything when you kissed me?"

"anything?" he repeated, breathing hard and bringing his forehead together with yours. "i felt everything that could be felt."

you smiled and stood up on your tiptoes a bit to pull him into your second kiss of the night. and certainly, not the last.

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