#jealousy towards your friends happiness is a hell i wish upon no one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softlymellow · 3 years

Text

flaws -- B.B

pairing: Bucky Barnes x ! insecure reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: angst and talk about body image, insecurities and a persons flaws.

summary: reader compares herself to Natasha as she see’s her and Bucky getting close. She think’s he doesn’t have feelings for her due to her not being perfect and because of her flaws but Bucky reassures her it’s not.

note: i hope this imagine isn’t taken this wrong way as me trying to romanticise someones insecurities. if i did please dm me or let me know so i can help fix it!! i promise i wasn’t trying to make anyone feel bad or anything and EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN ALL SHAPES AND FORMS and everybody is insecure about something and that’s completely normal but you are loved and you are perfect and you don’t need a man ( or girl! ) to tell you that. hope you guys enjoyyy

You loved being the reason he smiled or laughed.

Not that he would do it often, his face masked from the trauma he experienced. But when you were the reason he was happy, it gave you almost a sense of pride, but it was taken away from you.

There she was, Natasha Romanoff.

Her incredible orange hair that sat on her shoulders was eye-catching, her glowing skin and her full scarlet lips complimented her appearance tremendously.

You couldn't blame her. She was everything you couldn't be and everything you should be. Yet, the lump that rested in the back of your throat was difficult to ignore as you watched Bucky and Natasha interact with each other. A genuine laugh arose from the male, yet you could only wish you were the reason he laughed.

It wasn't as if you weren't friends with him. Hell, it seemed like a lot more to you. Maybe only to you.

You pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, watching the pair chatter among each other near the dining table as you reside in the comfort of the couch across from them.

Steve sat beside you, busy fixating himself on his new cellphone and playing around with the features.

You drew small circles on your knee to comfort yourself, ignoring the voice that was calling out to you.

"Y/n!" Your head snapped to your right, looking at a semi-concerned Steve. "Almost lost you there," He chuckled while you rubbed your eyes, gaining your full attention.

"How do you change the ringtone?" He innocently asked, poking his phone.

"Just go to settings and search it up." You told him, relocating your gaze to the pair. Steve hummed as he did what you instructed him. You sat quietly before you began to chew on your fingernails, thinking of every possible explanation on why Bucky would choose Natasha over you.

It almost felt as if you were being toyed with, one minute you'd be two peas in a pod, often being teased as one of the only people Bucky began to get close to other than Steve. On the other, he'd be flaunting off to every girl he would see.

"You know you should stop staring before you make it obvious," Steve whispered next to you, jumping at the sudden break in thought and looking over to a smirking man.

"Steve," You hissed, glaring at him, "before making what obvious?" You innocently asked, attempting to cover up the embarrassment you felt.

Steve shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks flare-up, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Steve responded with a smug expression. You rolled your eyes jokingly before turning your attention to Bucky.

"You should give it a shot, yknow," Steve whispered.

You shook your head 'no', snapping your gaze to Steve, "Trust me," He said in a hushed tone. Looking back to Natasha, you couldn't help the sickening feeling as you watched the pair flirt with each other.

"What would he see in me that he wouldn't in Nat," You mumbled under your breath, not intending for Steve to hear.

"You wouldn't know," Steve cleared his throat, poking at his phone with a pleased look on his face. You tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Getting up from the couch, you had decided to leave to wallow in your sadness.

You made your way past the pair and you heard the silence that fell among them, their gaze darting holes in your back as you walked away from the room.

Ignoring the distant mumbling behind you, you made your way towards your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. You dropped on your bed as you felt a swarm of emotions hit you. Once mostly consisting of jealousy.

You took out your phone and headed straight to Instagram. You scrolled through for what could only be interpreted as hours before you paused on a single post that lied on your feed.

It was a picture of Natasha that was posted only a few hours ago. It was taken during Tony's infamous parties last night, one that you had skipped out on due to feeling ill. She sat on a red velvet couch, and she wore a skin-tight black dress that sparkled in the light. She held a drink to her mouth as her red straightened hair fell over her eye. You had noticed that Bucky liked the picture, and you felt the tears brim your eyes. Your grip holding the phone as if your life depended on it suddenly faltered as it fell beside your head, briefly missing your face.

Getting up towards the large mirror that was framed on the closet door, you noticed every imperfection on your figure. Your hands travelled to your shirt as you pulled it off your body, leaving you only in your bra and your negative thoughts.

Your eyes wandered to every flaw, the extra fat and skin on your stomach. The way your body wasn't the perfect hourglass figure. Your fingers traced over your stretch marks that lied on your hips, feeling the slight dent in your skin. Tears began to fall down your face. Your flabby arms and that your breasts wasn't the ideal type.

Sitting on the ground in front of your mirror, you hugged your legs tightly against your chest as you sobbed.

You couldn't fit the standards that were made. The more you looked and the more you scrolled, just end up bringing newfound insecurities. That was a problem you had faced many times during your life and you began to doubt yourself. You would rather be anybody else, feeling unfit in your own body, one that was especially for you. All you saw was what you should be. A happier person, a prettier girl, and a stronger Avenger.

You threw your shirt back on, making your way towards your bed. Lying your head down, you allowed yourself to think about nothing. Empty thoughts. Thoughts that had no meaning and brought you no use.

A knock on the door brought you back to your reality. Getting up, you brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks as you sniffed. Suddenly feeling exposed, you pulled your sleeves down to hide your arms before opening the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw a concerned Bucky waiting outside. His eyebrows furrowed upon seeing your puffy eyes and your red cheeks.

"Can I come in?" He politely asked, his eyes watching every move you made. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

You stood aside, allowing Bucky to slip into your room as you shut the door behind him.

You leaned against the door, your arms crossed against your chest as you waited for him to say something.

He sighed, not knowing where to start, his hands ruffling his hair. "Are you avoiding me?" He obliviously asked. You could almost laugh at how stupid of a question it was.

Your lips could only quiver as you attempted to respond to him. "What?"

"Doll, I don't know if I did something wrong, but you seemed pretty upset back there." He tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

You shook your head as you bit the insides of your mouth, "No, no, it was nothing." You muttered as you sat on your bed, staring at your palms.

"Doll, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He shot you a small smile.

"Do you like her?" You instantly regretted saying that, your insecurities creeping in again.

Bucky was taken back by the sudden question, his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"

"Natasha."

"What, no. Where'd you hear that from?" He enquired.

You looked up at Bucky, tears glossing over your vision. "I've seen the way you look at her, Buck."

"No, Y/n. I've never liked her."

"You don't have to lie for me. I mean, what's there not to like. She has the perfect body, face and hair and-" You were interrupted by his sudden grasp on your hands.

"And you don't have those things?"

"I-I don't." You whispered.

"That's a lie, and you know it." His firm voice alarmed you as if you somehow offended him.

You got up and kept strong eye contact with him. "What are you trying to say, Bucky? Have you seen me?" You scoffed and started to point and poke around your flaws.

"There's nothing wrong with your body, doll." He said in a calmer tone, realising you were insecure about your body image.

"Bucky, you can just stop faking it. Go back to Natasha." You muttered, sniffing as you looked down at your feet.

"I don't love Natasha, Y/n! I love you, doll. I always have." He confessed, slightly panting as he raised his voice.

You stood still, finding it difficult to believe in his words.

"I love you and every part of you." He took your hands in his and planted a small kiss onto your knuckles.

"Then what about-"

"Forget about her, doll. I tried to forget about you through her. Steve told me." He looked up to your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt the heat creep onto your face as you realised he knows your feelings towards himself.

"Do you really?" You asked, hope in your eyes.

He nodded, still holding your hand and planting small kisses. His kisses travelled up towards your arms as you felt a swarm of butterflies swarm your insides.

"I love your arms," he left a trail of kisses as he went further up.

"Your shoulders," he mumbled against your skin, a tingling sensation was left after every kiss as you felt yourself biting your lip in admiration.

He made his way towards your neck, loving the way you tensed under his touch. "Your neck," he kissed behind your ear as you bit back a moan.

You tilted your head, allowing him to move further, his lips moving alongside your jaw. He finally reached your lips and caught your gaze on his. His lips were mere inches apart from yours, you felt his breath fan over yours.

"Your lips," he whispered, his mouth slowly reaching yours as they gently kissed. Your lips dancing over his, enjoying the moment. His lips were soft against yours and he kissed you as if you were fragile, something to not be tampered with.

He slowly let go of you, his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you, doll. Don't doubt that and don't compare yourself to other women. You're equally if not more beautiful than them." He whispered, pecking you on the cheek.

"You'll realise your worth, Y/n." He kissed you on the forehead.

You felt better after Bucky had come found you that night. Your insecurities didn't go away, instead, you found them as someone else's treasure. And that made you feel better.

-----

a/n: man that last part has me embarrassed.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagines #james buchanan barnes #marvel imagines #marvel angst imagines #marvel angst #bucky barnes angst imagines #insecure reader #bucky x insecure reader #bucky imagines #bucky angst #bucky angst imagines #ur mum #i dont think i could ever write smut

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alygatorwrites · 3 years

Note

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough.

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms.

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man.

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden.

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him.

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him.

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece.

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has.

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone.

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

#timeskip reiner still sexy asf #I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Note

Hi! I dont know if you write this, but can i request for angsty-fluff imagine for corpse? Maybe when you’re jealous? Thank u❤️ love ur writings

u ask for jealousy and angst, and i said hell fucking yeah

hope u enjoy!

word count: 1.6k

_________________________

it’s fine

Corpse was ever so charismatic. It was something about him that was impossible to deny. Even when he would get misjudged by people, thinking he may be this intimidating presence purely because of how he dressed and sounded, it would only take a few exchanges of sentences between him and a stranger for them to instantly change their mind and feel drawn to him, instead. You knew this better than anyone, after all, it had been one of the factors in what had made you fall for him so hard and so fast.

The only issue was that, sometimes, he could have the same effect on others and, sometimes, when you caught someone else clearly having some heart eyes for your man, that brought forth the little green monster inside of you. He was magnetic, and as happy as you were that the world was so intrigued by him and he was having all the success he deserved, you couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that wished that magnetic pull only worked on you.

It seemed there were certain days when Corpse managed to turn on this charismatic side of him even more so. Today had happened to be one of those days. It was good, because it was a day the two of you had planned to spend together. But when you went out to lunch and the server definitely let her hand rest on his arm a little too long and said things a little too flirtatious and hardly acknowledged your presence, you started to lose that good feeling.

You didn’t say anything about it, even though you kind of wished he would have figured that him giving the girl a back and forth was encouraging her more and upsetting you further. But you were determined to have a good day with your boyfriend, you didn’t want to start any drama with him.

He asked you if you were okay on the way back to his place, noticing you were being quiet. You told him you were and left it at that, even if you did want to say more.

Finally, in the safety of his home that was like a bubble in which was just for the two of you, you were feeling better. Quality time was your love language and his was physical touch, something you could both give each other with ease when there was no outside interruption. Between the little talks, the exploration of hands over each other, the giggles that turned into wiping tears of laughter from your face and shared kisses, you swore you could spend the rest of your life like this and be happy.

And then the bubble burst.

“Ah, shit, (Y/N).” He began, and the mood between you instantly changed.

“What?”

“They need a tenth player right now and no one else can get online.” He had promised that today was about you. And usually, you would be completely okay with him going and joining in on the streams, often you loved sitting by him and watching him get so invested in the games. Except lately, you’d been feeling at an arms length from him and you hated it. You wanted his undivided attention today.

“And?” You were being short with him, you wanted him to know you weren’t okay with this right now.

“It’ll just be a few games...”

You let out a huff and turned your head to the side, looking away from him. You were being stubborn. You didn’t want to tell him what to do, you wanted him to figure it out on his own, that you didn’t want him to play and wanted him to stay right here in this moment with you.

“You can come sit with me?” He spoke again as you remained silent, seemed as if he wasn’t figuring it out.

“Just go play. It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine.

Sitting on your own now, you felt bare without your limbs being all tangled with his beneath the blanket like they were earlier. You had tried to turn on the television to watch something, but everything on just seemed to annoy you.

With a sigh, you pressed your hands to your knees and stood up, walking towards Corpses gaming room. At first, you were going to walk in, giving in to the want that was craving to be by his side, but upon hearing a number of female voices, that jealousy appeared inside you again and you walked away.

It was slightly irrational, you knew these people were his friends, but today had really gotten to you.

At an attempt to distract yourself, you opened up Tik Tok, but all your for you page seemed to be was more girls wanting your boyfriend.

“Fucking hell.” You said out loud, closing the app and opening up Twitter next. But you should’ve known it would’ve been worse on there, Corpse seemed to be trending every day on that app, you told yourself you really should have known better for that one.

However, the next social media app click was deliberate. You knew that Corpse had been reposting stories of people using his song and you decided on treating yourself to some more sweet torture. And sure enough, his story was filled with more girls. Firing that jealousy and insecurity you had been feeling today even more.

“Fuck this.” You announced, standing to your feet and feeling tears of frustration build in your eyes.

Once you had finished gathering your belongings, you were just about to make an exit when that crazy thing of timing pulled a fast one on you as Corpse emerged from his gaming room.

“What are you doing?” He questioned you, spotting your hand gripping the handle on his front door.

Seeing him should’ve made you feel better, but it only caused more tears to well up, so you quickly looked away from him.

“I’m going home.”

“What-no, why?” He came closer to you then and you turned more towards the door.

“Because you obviously don’t want me here.”

“What the fuck? (Y/N), of course I do. What are you even saying right now?” He was by your side now, grabbing your hand from the handle and holding it in his. His other went up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to face him and that’s when he saw the glaze of tears in your eyes. “Hey, baby,” Worry sparked up in him. “You’re upset...” He stated the obvious and you shook your head out of his grip, directing your vision to the ground.

You thought he might create some distance between you both when you did that, but instead, he did the opposite. He pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapping snugly around your waist and his other hand resting on the back of your head to encourage you against him.

“Don’t, I’m going.” You spoke, but your words were meek, you didn’t actually want to leave and he knew that.

“No. You’re not.” He argued back, his arms pulling you in even closer. “I want you here.” He told you and that’s what made you snap.

“No you don’t!” Your voice got louder, matching the movements of you bracing your arms against him and pushing him back, breaking the human contact. He was in shock, watching you with cautious eyes. “If you did, you would’ve spent time with me and only me today. You wouldn’t have left me alone!” You became more emotional as you spoke, a few tears managing to spill onto your cheeks.

“Baby-”

“No!” You cut him off. “Don’t ‘baby’ me right now.” You took a moment to wipe under your eyes before continuing because you knew this next admission would cause you some more tears. “You know how hard it is to compete it with every other girl who’s all about you right now? They’re everywhere, and they’re all so fucking beautiful. I know you see them, I’m not them, Corpse.” Your voice broke into a sob as his name left your lips and he felt his heart break to see you in that state.

He wasn’t sure if you still needed space, but he couldn’t stand in front of you while you cried and not do anything. So instead, he once again brought his arms around you, but this time he scooped you up, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips so he could carry you.

You continued to cry against his neck as he walked the both of you to his room and when he placed you down onto his bed, he was instantly beside you, cradling you against him.

“I need you to listen me,” He began once you had started to calm down, he wanted to make sure you paid attention. “You are so important to me. So fucking important to me, (Y/N).” His eyes were boring into yours and he brought his hand up to wipe the wetness from your cheeks before continuing. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.” He was speaking with force, but it wasn’t aggressive, he was wanting to make sure that you really understood the depth to his words.

“It’s just, everyone seems to want you and I’m just-”

“Don’t you dare put yourself down.” Corpse cut you off before you could finish. For a moment, he pressed his lips to your forehead before moving his face back so he could look at you again. “I only want you. You’re it for me, baby.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“With my whole fucking heart.”

“I love you, I really love you.” You told him, your emotions were still running high, but you were feeling a whole lot better.

“I love you, too.”

#corpse husband #corpse imagine #corpse husband imagine #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #writing #mine #request #okay its almost 3am and wew i just finished this #not doing tag list rn im too tired #ill self reblog and do it when i wake up #Anonymous #answered #1k

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

📝A LITTLE REMINDER📝

Prompt: This was a request by my lovely @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan . She requested for a possessive Drew smut , so here you go. I hope you’ll like it babe.

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, rough sex, orgasm denial, dom x sub dynamic, cursing, possessiveness, jealousy.

Tags: @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360 , @drew-is-boo

Notes: Sorry this took me so long Des. I’ve been having some pretty chaotic days and I can’t seem to find some time to sit down and write. But I made it! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

‘You should come along’ he said, ‘it will be fun’ he said, ‘what harm can a night out with friends do?’ he said...If I knew it would all blow up like this I would have never, ever left my house for this bullshit!

I am currently on my second dry martini (or my mad, sour bitch drink as I like to call it, since I only order it when I’m debating whether I should kill somebody or just get up and go home). I still haven’t made up my mind yet, although the first option sounds very tempting right now.

I was finishing my martini when Drew suddenly appears in front of me.

“Let’s go” He briefly said

“Where? I didn’t finished my drink”

“I think you’ve drank enough. We’re going home”

“No, thanks” I huffed at him.

Who the hell does he think he is? He ignored me all night because of Dolph’s not so subtle flirting and indecent touching, didn’t even looked or kissed me because of his stupid jealousy, didn’t even cared that I was alone and by myself the whole night and now he wants to act like the nice, caring boyfriend? I don’t think so!

“I wasn’t asking, Y/N”

“And I don’t give a fuck!” I finished my drink in one gulp and made my way to the back exit that led to an alley. Soon hearing Drew’s heavy footsteps behind me.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He grabs my wrist and I pull it away from his grip

“Who the fuck do YOU think you are? You don’t tell me what to do! You’ve been treating me like shit all night just because your little friend thinks it’s funny to flirt with his friends girlfriends and now that you’ve had your fun, you want to come here and act like you own me or something? Fuck off!” I shove him away as hard as I can, but Drew didn’t even flinched.

One of his big hands closed around my neck, pressing my back against the concrete wall.

“Oh don’t get it twisted, love. I DO OWN YOU! The minute I slid my cock inside your pussy I owned you. Every night, when we get to our hotel room and I cum inside your pussy I claim it as mine. I told you that from the beginning and you accepted, that’s why you have this” Drew touched my choker.

It was a beautiful choker with sapphires and diamonds, it had little chains holding all the stones together, with a little padlock on the center.

“To remind you who you belong to. So if I’m saying we’re going home, then we’ll go home. Do you understand, Y/N?” He whispered and I just nodded

“And if I say that you’re mine for me to do whatever I want” Drew’s hand slid up, underneath my skirt and rubbed my clit through my red satin panties.

“I mean it! I’ll do whatever I want with you and whenever I want, because why, Y/N?”

“Bec-Because you own me” I murmured

“You’re forgetting something” He pinched my inner thigh making me hiss.

“Because you own me, sir” I angrily stare at him

“Oh temper, temper! Be careful with that attitude sweetheart. You might regret it” Drew coldly smiled

“Now” He slides one finger in my choker and tug on it “Let’s go, so I can show you who you’re messing with”

The car ride has the air filled with sexual tension and I don’t know whether to be excited or scared for what it’s yet to come. Once inside the bedroom, Drew commands

“Take your clothes off”

I vigorously obey.

“Do you think it’s funny to disrespect me like that? Do you think that, that’s how you’re supposed to speak to me?” He grabbed my neck forcefully, challenging me to hold his gaze.

“Answer me” He snarled

“No, sir”

“Then why do you do it, Y/N? Do you wish to be punished, is that it?”

“I was mad, sir” I sincerely responded

“Mad?” He raised his eyebrows “About?”

“You. The way you mistreated me the whole night because of dumbass Dolph”

Drew’s eyes soften “The problem with Dolph is that, he always wants what belongs to other people. And he has no problem to play as dirty as he can to reach his goal.” The pressure on my neck softened, but he continued to hold it “He has his eyes on you for quite a while now, and I don’t like that. He doesn’t realize it but he’s stepping on quicksand whenever he opens his mouth to say something about you. And as you know, my patience is very thin, I’m getting tired of hearing his charming comments about you” Drew pulls me closer to his face by my neck while he placed his free hand on the side of my face

“Someday he’s gonna push the wrong button and he’s going to understand why people call me Scottish psychopath”

Drew looks so primal whenever he talks like this and it always instantly makes my wetness drip down my legs.

“Now, about your little attitude, missy. Although understandable is unacceptable so, we’ll have to punish you” He leaned down towards my lips and I eagerly wait for his kiss. But when his lips are about to brush against mine he chuckled and stepped away, making me pout.

“Turn around, put your hands on the wall and lean forward a bit”

I did as he asked and right after felt his cock teasing my clit.

“Oh please” I whined

“Shut up. You’re only allowed to talk when I ask you a question”

I can only pant as my orgasm gets closer and closer, already knowing it, Drew stepped back. Laughing when I protested.

“I told you to shut the fuck up” He slaps my ass harshly

He steps forward and repeat the same previous actions for another five times.

Hot tears of frustration rolled down my cheeks when my fifth orgasm is denied

“Oh poor thing” Drew chuckled “You’re so desperate to come, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Ple-“

Drew’s length enter me in one harsh thrust. Making me moan loudly in relief. From behind, his arm circle around my neck, chocking me ask he sets a fast thrusting pace.

One of my hands grabs his forearm for support as I can feel my head buzzing with my sixth orgasm reaching it’s high.

I came hard, wetting Drew’s thighs and successfully making some of my release drip down on the floor.

Drew slid off me, grabbing a fistful of my hair

“We’re just getting started, princess” He whispered darkly on my ear

As he pushed me on top of the bed, placing my thighs upon his shoulders....

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedback is always appreciated 🥰😘

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre one shot #drew mcintyre #drew galloway #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #wwe imagine #masochist writes

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thenovelartist · 3 years

Text

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 5

13. Flower Shop

She was alerted to Chat’s presence not because of a knock on her window, but rather a horrible crash on her balcony.

I swear, if that cat broke my favorite flowerpot, I’m going to skin him alive.

When she flung open the trap door, she saw Chat, sitting pitifully on the ground with his ears hung low as he lamented over what was, er… had been not her favorite flowerpot. Thankfully.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over the dirt splattered across the balcony with broken pieces of pottery scattered around it. “I’ll go to the flower shop tomorrow and get a replacement.”

Marinette almost opened a round of teasing on him, except something in his demeanor had her pause. “You okay, Chat?”

“Hmm?”

“You seem a little… off.”

He shrugged, then after a moment shook his head. “I mean, I will be. But not right now.”

Marinette bit her lip. Where was the ‘pry’ line versus the ‘concerned friend’ line? Because she was certainly concerned but knew better than to press for information he wasn’t going to give. “Are you not feeling well? Have you been overworking yourself or something?”

“Or something,” he muttered, slowly collecting the pieces of the pot.

Upon watching the pitiful scene, Marinette couldn’t help but bite her lip as the pain in her heart grew. “Just leave it.”

“But I broke it.”

“It’s okay,” she said, taking the pieces from his hands and setting them aside. From there, she took his cheeks in her hands, guiding his face towards her to examine. There was a hollow look in his eye, and his skin looked pale. Though, she wasn’t sure if that was just an illusion of all the white of his suit paired with the blue glow of the moon playing a trick on her. “You’re not okay.”

He didn’t even try to argue. Which proved he really wasn’t okay.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Slept?”

“Oh, dammit, Chat,” she muttered, gently patting his cheeks. “Focus, kitty.”

He blinked a couple times, and a little clarity came back to him.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Uh… not well,” he eventually answered.

“And have you been eating?”

“Yes.”

“When did you last eat?”

He fell silent again.

She sighed, standing and then pulling him to his feet. “Get up, Chat. You are coming inside, and I am forcing food into you.”

He didn’t argue. He just stood. And swayed.

Marinette tightened her grasp on him. Chat, I swear, you fall over or pass out on me, I will go full Ladybug on your ass and cage you until you recover.

14. Dancing

It took two hours, a croissant sandwich, and a short nap for Chat to mostly recover.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” Marinette challenged, shooting the not-really-a-question question his direction.

He shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to say that wasn’t it, but there’s definitely more than that.”

Chat just stayed silent.

“Have you been eating?”

He nodded. “My friend makes me.”

That was a relief that someone was looking after her stupid cat. Although, a part of her was upset that that friend wasn’t her. “Good. Glad to hear that,” she said, forcefully shoving aside her jealousy. “Have you been overworking yourself?”

He quirked a brow in her direction. “You promised not to pry?”

“I’m not prying. I’m demanding to know what the hell happened to you that almost made you fall off my balcony and crack your head open on the sidewalk below. Because cats may normally land on their feet, but you sure weren’t going to in that state.”

Looking appropriately cowed, he turned his head away from her.

“So, you want to tell me why you looked like death warmed over up there?”

“Are you just mad that I accidently took out a flowerpot?”

“Your eyes looked completely glassed over.”

“Because I promise to fix it. That was an honest mistake.”

“Stop dancing around the subject, Chat,” she snarled. “Something is wrong. You looked a million miles away standing right next to me. You’re not sick again, are you?”

He pursed his lips, playing with his miraculous and twirling the silver band on his finger. “In a way, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you doing out?”

He shrugged. “I had stuff I had to do, but I wasn’t feeling great and knew I could crash here safely.”

Half of that sentence really worried her, but there was a tiny part of her that was relieved he felt comfortable at her place. She was thrilled this could be a safe space for him, and she would do everything she could to keep it that way.

And while she knew that meant not prying, this, she decided, was a perfectly reasonable exception.

“I can set up a blanket and you can sleep on my chaise to recover.”

“Thanks, but I can’t,” he said. “I really should get home.”

Her brow furrowed in worry. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Trust me when I say it is for my well-being I do.”

He still seemed a little sluggish, but nothing like he was before. And she supposed it would be far better for him to go home and sleep in his own bed. “Okay. But please, for the love of everything good in this world, will you be careful?”

He gave her a small smile as he slowly got to his feet. “I promise, princess.”

She sighed. She wished he had the ability to text her that he got home safe or something of the sort, but she supposed he couldn’t do that. She would just have to trust her kitty to make it home safe and sound. “Okay. Then have a good night and take it easy, Chat.”

When he grinned, it was small but genuine. It warmed Marinette’s heart to see. “Thanks, Marinette. You have a good night, too.”

15. Moonlight

Marinette thought Chat would be better in a week’s time or so.

Marinette was wrong.

He frequently came around now with a dazed look in his eye. And sometimes, it didn’t improve by the time he was getting ready to leave, no matter if she gave him food, water, or a place to rest.

Which worried her to no end.

Then came the day he’d actually passed out in her arms, and true to her mental threat three weeks ago, Marinette went full Ladybug on his ass.

She dragged him down into her room, then transformed, ready and waiting for him to wake back up. She’d lie and say she happened to be passing by and that Marinette was downstairs. Whatever. Her cat was sick, and she was going to drag answers out of him one way or another.

The night crept on, but she didn’t leave his side, instead sitting by him on the bed as he slept. It didn’t just break her heart to see him like this but utterly destroyed it. The moonlight that shone through the windows highlighted his white suit, causing it to practically glow in the night. It just felt wrong. He was supposed to be black, his suit blending into the shadows because she was his opposite, her red suit standing out boldly in the light. And she wanted nothing more than for things to return to normal, or at least some semblance of it.

She just wanted her kitty back.

Tears prickling at her eyes, she slowly began stroking his white ears and white hair, the feeling so familiar even if the sight wasn’t. “Come back to me, kitty,” she whispered, feeling one of those tears escape and roll down her cheek.

Eventually, he stirred at her touch. Her heart stepped up its pace, both happy and relieved to see him recovering. She never stopped petting him as she waited for his eyes to open. Eventually, when they did, they seemed to be a little clearer than before, but they still had an exhausted haze hanging over them. “Marinette?”

“Not quite,” she said, mentally begging her voice to stay steady.

He blinked several times, that haze lifting a bit more as he looked up to meet her gaze. “Milady?”

At the name she had grown far too fond of over the years, a name she hadn’t heard in too long, something in her broke. “Dammit, Chat.” She flung herself over him, practically tackling him to the bed as she clung to him. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

He was stiff under her touch as she tried her best not to cry into his shoulder. But the moment his hand came down to rest on her head, that fight was lost.

“Sorry,” was all he said.

They stayed like that for a while before Chat slowly grabbed hold her shoulders and pushed her up and off of him, clearly creating distance between them. It hurt, but she supposed he did allow her to hug him for a little while. She would have to take the wins she could get.

Wiping the tears, Ladybug began, “Marinette told me everything.”

Chat sighed, propping himself up on his elbow. “I knew she would.”

“Don’t hate her for it, okay? Please. She’s just worried.”

“You begged her, too, I bet. And I doubt she’d tell you ‘no’.”

Ladybug decided to nod. “I did.”

He sighed again, sounding more like a groan or grunt this time. “I won’t be mad at her for it. She didn’t mean any harm, even if she’d too nosy for her own good trying to play superhero caretaker.”

The words may have sounded disapproving, but the gentleness in his tone as he spoke told Ladybug that he didn’t mean it that way. She knew her partner well enough to know those were more swords of concern for her well-being over a condemnation. “She’s kind that way.”

“Too kind,” he muttered. “She reminds me of you; both of you being so sacrificing and willing to help others at the drop of a hat. You can handle yourself as a superhero. I worry for her, though.”

His words warmed her heart more than he would ever know, endearing him to her yet again for the countless time over all the years she’d known him. “She can handle herself.”

“If you knew half the things she did, you might question that,” he muttered, fully sitting up and leaning back against the wall. “So, guess I’ll bite the bullet and concede. You cornered me, and I’m ready for the other shoe to drop.”

His eyes took on a hard glint to them, as though he was steeling himself for a fight.

Geez, kitty. I’m mad at you, but I’m not going to fight you.

With a sigh, Ladybug prepared herself for the conversation she knew they needed to have. “I know you said you wanted space,” she began. “But if you think I’m going to give you space now when you nearly passed out like that, you’re wrong. I’m your partner and your friend, and as such, I don’t think I’m entitled to know, but I would like to be by your side and bear your burdens if you’ll let me. So please, tell me. What’s going on?”

At her words, that steel in his eyes softened before his gaze fell to his lap. He was silent for a moment, playing with his miraculous again. As the time ticked on and he still didn’t speak, Ladybug had to practically bite her lip in a desperate attempt to not push too hard.

Come on, kitty. Trust me.

“When I found out who Hawkmoth was,” Chat began, answering her thoughts in such perfect time she almost questioned if she’d spoken aloud. “It hurt, more than you could ever think possible.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“And my emotions ran wild.”

Her brow furrowed. “Were you akumatized?”

“Almost,” he quietly admitted. “But I destroyed the butterfly and found out where Hawkmoth was hiding so I could face him directly. While he didn’t get a second chance to use a butterfly on me, my emotions ran rampant enough to cause a different kind of problem.”

He lifted his ring for her to see. “Apparently, you can overload a miraculous with emotion,” he explained.

Suddenly, things began to click into place. “And that’s how you became Chat Blanc.”

He nodded, turning his gaze away from her. “When you have that much hate and anger and spite raging through you, it’s possible to corrupt the miraculous when it’s so deeply tied to who you are.” He turned back to her. “And a broken miraculous is a dangerous thing. That’s why I have to give it back to you once I finish this mission.”

Her gut sank. “How dangerous? Like, do you mean it’s power is out of control?” If that was the case, she was sure they could find a way to control it again.

“In a way,” he said. “It’s not like I can’t control the power, but rather the miraculous begins to feed of the emotion its user emanates and drains them.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?”

Chat was silent.

Which only made Ladybug worry more. “Chat,” she said, swallowing down the bitter feeling that was bubbling up from her gut. “What do you mean by ‘draining you’?”

He looked like he didn’t want to answer. “I don’t know how it’s fixed,” he admitted. “But until it is, I can’t wear it anymore.”

Her mind was on overdrive, but a thought soon popped into Ladybug’s mind made her physically ill. Don’t tell me…

“Because, basically,” Chat continued, tone somber and sad. “This ring is slowly killing me.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #marichatmay2021 #ladynoir #oh look more angst #And ladynoir snuck in here this time

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dabi-drift · 3 years

Text

Yaoyorozu, Bakugou, Compress x S/O {Valentine’s Scenarios} - Incomplete

If you want any characters adding here or to anything else I write, just drop me a comment or an ask!

Momo Yaoyorozu:

♡ La douleur exquise: the exquisite pain, unrequited love…

♡ This was perhaps the most appropriate summary of your emotions. You loved this girl, this sweet, gorgeous young woman, with all your heart, all your essence. But would she ever return that love? You watched her interactions with Todoroki and Jirou…it was more likely that she'd develop feelings for one of them.

♡ What was the point in all this pining? Not that you could help it, of course. You would've given anything to break free from the stifling jealousy, the borderline worship.

♡ It wasn’t obvious. You were the type so often described as a 'Kuudere'; your face very, very rarely betrayed your heart. But Momo…she made heat rise to your cheeks and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

♡ She was breath-taking, indescribable…incomparable.

♡ You noticed the way she captured everyone's attention, how she did it so innocently…you couldn’t help falling for her.

♡ You didn’t think she'd ever accept your advances, so you stayed at a distance. You became friends, but refused to take it further. You wouldn’t even try. You weren't willing to lose her.

♡ So when Valentine's came, you were extremely ill-prepared. Ashido asked if you were giving chocolate to anyone, and with your usual stoicism, you said no. For a split second, she seemed disappointed. Was the idea of love really that tempting to her? You would never understand that girl. Love wasn’t always something to flaunt. It hurt. A lot.

♡ Now, you weren't going to lie - you had briefly considered making Momo some chocolate with your sub-par skills, but that'd be too desperate…right? You could've waved it off as friendly, but if she was the only one to receive it, would she truly believe that?

♡ You sighed, busying yourself with school and listening to the mindless chatter of your classmates. Lunchtime approached, and you decided to sit alone. On the roof, of course (when is the roof ever not mentioned). You had to admit, all the happy couples sent you a slight wave of nausea.

♡ You were just wondering, ‘Why couldn’t you and Momo be like that? Why did love have to be so complicated?’

♡ Well, at least your food was there for you. As you began to eat, the last thing you expected was a polite little knock at the door. This was the rooftop - unexplored territory to the average student - no-one needed to be so gentle. You didn’t respond, thinking it'd been either the wind or your imagination.

♡ The door opened.

♡ It was Momo, all worn-out and blushy.

♡ Your heart rate picked up, and all potential words died on your tongue. Why did she hold such power over you? And why, why was she so damn cute?

♡ You wanted to turn her away, but a strange determination was burning in her eyes. In her hand lay a small box, complete with a ribbon and label.

♡ She moved toward you slowly, legs shaking. She presented the box to you.

♡ "I-I made these for you! Please accept them!"

♡ Although it floored you, how could you possibly refuse her?

Atsuhiro Sako/Mr Compress:

♡ His dramatic flair will certainly bleed through to this special day.

♡ This man 100% sat down and learned as many expressions of love (in different languages) as humanly possible; the more poetic the better. Obviously, he uses them at every opportunity, but on a day such as this…it was bound to be more heartfelt (I mean extra).

♡ He was forever going over-the-top, no matter whether it was your birthday, Valentine's, Christmas or anything in-between. He didn’t care for the tradition of men waiting until White Day to return gifts - he wanted you to experience the most amazing day, feel all the love he poured into you. He actually went to the trouble of purchasing (not stealing?? Man's dropped being a villain to officially become your biggest simp) everything he gave.

♡ Let's face it, the lure of thievery was strong, but his devotion to you was far, far stronger.

♡ You'd never professed to be a hero, but…you weren't a villain, either. You appreciated honesty and decency. Y'know, normal stuff - core values that villains were often shown to be lacking. So for Atsuhiro to break from his criminal tendencies, even for a moment…it meant that you were respected, cherished beyond belief.

♡ He hoped to prove as much, with each new dawn.

♡ But today, society had provided a legitimate excuse for Atsuhiro to flaunt his love. He'd organised the entire day, ensuring radio silence on the League's part. His plans wouldn’t be ruined by other obligations. Your importance surpassed theirs, tenfold. He couldn’t (nor did he ever wish to) fathom a world without your radiance.

♡ You were everything he never thought he'd find.

♡ This man will absolutely take you for a fancy dinner (PLF funded, of course), ending the night with a kiss beneath the twinkling stars - the ones he can't help but compare you to. In truth, the thousands upon thousands visible amid the partial cloud-cover, paled when judged against you.

♡ How did he ever win over such an otherworldly beauty?

♡ That thought was reoccurring. But it didn’t matter. It never would.

♡ "Tu sei un dono del cielo, e tu sei tutto quella che voglio." *You are a gift from Heaven, and you are everything I want.

♡ "Voglio passare la mia vita con te." *I want to spend my life with you.

♡ Get used to these more intimate phrases he's sprinkling into conversation. He might slip up a few times, but you'll never realise. And what does it really matter? The sentiment speaks with far greater clarity.

♡ He's a romantic at heart.

Katsuki Bakugou:

♡ Oh, your heart yearned for Bakugou's love. You couldn’t really understand it, given his attitude and that apparent God Complex. Unfortunately though, your rationale was side-lined in favour of this pursuit.

♡ Valentine's seemed like the perfect time to expose your feelings, but you just didn’t know what to do! While you stared at him a lot, you didn’t hang around the Bakusquad, and you couldn’t recall ever hearing him confess to liking something.

♡ That's where Midoriya came in. He was the ultimate treasury of information about the explosion boy. You just knew he'd have the answers. You spoke for a while in the dormitory's common room, Midoriya's notebooks spread across the table. By nightfall, you'd acquired knowledge of practically every inch of Bakugou's life. You wondered for a moment if that was a breach of privacy, but…oops?

♡ You settled on Mountain Climbing gear - Mountain Climbing, as Midoriya explained, was a favourite activity of Bakugou's. He gave you measurements, just in case you bought any clothes (how the hell did even know them), and walked you through the things Bakugou definitely wouldn’t turn down.

♡ It was gonna be a bit costly - good thing this boy was so intoxicating.

♡ It sort of felt like trying to buy his affections, but even if he issued a fierce rejection, you'd still insist he take all the stuff. You didn’t hike, so what use would it be to you?

♡ You were determined to show your love, to prove you'd be his perfect match, far worthier than anyone else!

♡ When you'd collected everything (and thrown in a few spicy chocolate treats), you wrapped it up and steeled your nerves. The day of reckoning was fast approaching, like a herald of ruin. This could make-or-break your heart.

♡ Midoriya gave you lots of encouragement, but every time you saw Bakugou in the interlude, your smile faltered. What if he really did reject you? What if he hated you?

♡ Bakugou being Bakugou, he received letters and confessions of love on a daily basis. He never reciprocated, and he always complained - they were too desperate, too annoying, too…anything! He just seemed to hate love - the very concept! It was disheartening.

♡ But you wouldn’t give up.

♡ You wanted this boy, more than life itself. You wanted to be the one he held dear, the one he protected and grew jealous over.

♡ It was a fluffy fantasy. But hopefully, hopefully, reality would prove sweeter.

♡ The morning of Valentine's descended, and you caught him just before school. He would've walked with Kirishima, but said boy dismissed himself with a smile. He'd been clued in, you supposed.

♡ Bakugou tried his usual 'What the fuck do you want? How dare you address me directly, you piece of shit idiot', but you weren't letting him. He hadn't even realised the date, but when his gaze drifted to the items in your hand, he froze.

♡ You were in the middle of "IgotyouthisandIhopeyou'llbemyvalentinebutIreallydon'tknowit'sfinetorejectmeIjustwantedyoutoknow-".

♡ You saw the blush climbing his neck. You saw it settle on his cheeks. You heard him stutter, for the very first time. He was struggling under his contradictory thoughts of: My long-time crush actually feels the same way! And, I have a fucking reputation!

♡ You took pity on him, swallowing down all your nerves and stepping forward.

♡ You kissed him.

#momo yaoyorozu x reader #bnha valentine's #bnha imagines #my hero academia x reader #bnha yaoyorozu #mr compress x reader #bnha villains #bnha mr compress #atsuhiro sako x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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mnictasbcl · 3 years

Text

I’ll be forever young (with you)

For #dbhcolorsofdeviancy, prompt:

June 13th: Forever young @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Rating: Teen

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson, Sumo

Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson, Connor & Hank Anderson & Sumo

Additional Tags: Fluff, Birthday, First birthday, Presents, Detroit bridge, Swearing, Hank is the best dad

Summary: August 15th, 2039. Connor’s first birthday.

He doesn’t think Hank will do anything that big for his birthday…

And is proven very wrong.

(The final prompt for this event! I’ve enjoyed it very much :) )

Story below! Or, read it on AO3

AUGUST 15th, 2039

TIME AM 07:40:02

Connor awoke to a ball of brown and white fur catapulting itself onto his bed.

Opening his eyes and fully coming out of the stasis, he realised that this was Sumo.

He ran his hands over his soft fur, receiving the wet slobbery kisses over his face, smiling. The Saint Bernard seemed particularly affectionate and excitable, the reason why eluding him as he was distracted by the fluffy cuddles.

But then, finally pulling himself away from the great dog and scanning his surroundings, he found out the reason pretty quickly.

Loosely strapped upon Sumo’s head was a colourful party hat, the words ‘Happy Birthday!’ printed on it in bold letters. Deducing that it wasn’t Hank’s birthday, it wasn’t Sumo’s…

The only other person in the house was him.

He chuckled, moving to pull the hat off the dog but he grumbled and jumped off the bed before he could do so.

“I didn’t think you’d find that comfortable, Sumo.”

The only reply he was given was a snort as the dog sniffed at the floor, nosing slowly out of his bedroom.

Connor shrugged. It made sense. It was a year since his activation day. Strangely… he did recall Hank paying extra attention and asking questions when he had mentioned he was almost a year old since being activated.

But he hadn’t viewed it as a birthday. Merely the day after his testing was complete and he was finally activated and shipped out on the same day for his first mission.

Of course, with the development of android rights, birthdays had been allowed for androids, even encouraged. Markus had celebrated his, he remembered, as he’d created a painting for him as a gift. So had various other members of Jericho.

Still, it felt… different to view this as a human celebration, of him turning a year old. The body he was in was technically not even a year old because he’d fallen off the rooftop on his first mission. He shuddered. It hadn’t been a brilliant day of birth, if humans called it that, that was for sure.

However, with help from people like Hank and Markus, he was beginning to accept his new humanity. Perhaps embracing his birthday would allow him to really move into the next stage of his life.

Besides, it wasn’t like Hank would do anything massive for the day, right?

He walked out of his room and was met with balloons tied to the curtain poles, a banner proclaiming ‘Happy birthday/activation day, Connor!’, presents piled up on the living room table and Hank standing at the kitchen counter, a birthday hat askew on his head.

“Here comes the birthday boy.” Hank chuckled as he walked in, taking in his bewildered expression. “I know I probably went a bit… a lot extreme on this, but it’s your first birthday. You got to have a nice first birthday.”

Connor continued to scan over the room. “It’s…”

“I know.” He took a step towards him. “I know you’re still getting used to all your new-fangled emotions. But this doesn’t have to be big and stressful. Just a nice day where you can open some gifts and eat cake.”

He quirked a brow. “Did someone buy me a biological stomach, Lieutenant?”

“Smartass. Fine, I’ll eat cake. You can watch and drink a thirium pouch.”

Connor nodded. That didn’t sound too different. He followed Hank into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Alright…” Hank hummed as he looked over the gifts. “We’ve got a few things- a lot of things- from your friends at Jericho. One or two from the guys at the DPD… and me and Sumo piled some stuff together.”

Connor looked over it all with confusion, hands reaching out before pausing, reassessing. Eventually, he looked over to Hank for help.

“What… exactly do I do?”

Hank smiled. “They’re for you. Open whichever you want, but make sure Sumo doesn’t eat the wrapping paper.” He threw a slightly dirty look at the dog who was laying in front of the table, waiting. Sumo glared back at him.

Connor nodded. That sounded reasonable. Picking up the first gift, which was from Markus, he found even the tingle of excitement building in his chest, wondering with gratitude what his loved ones had chosen for him.

Markus had gotten him a book about fish, along with a selection of classical piano sheet music for him to play. Seeing the care put in, the thought about what he was interested in… was touching.

Tearing through the next few gifts elicited the same feeling. Everything was so thoughtful, even the Saint Bernard plush Sumo had ‘bought’ for him.

“Full of himself.” Hank jerked a thumb fondly at the dog when he opened the gift.

“It is very sweet, Sumo. Perhaps not as good as the real deal…” He bent down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “But very cute, thank you.”

After everything was placed neatly back on the table, he thought they were finished. But Hank looked to him and proclaimed:

“Okay. I have one last gift for you…”

Connor tilted his head. “But I appreciated the things you have already gotten for me, Lieutenant. They were very generous.”

“This isn’t a thing.” He replied, getting up off the chair. “Come on, follow me.”

The android was intrigued as he was led out to the car. Sumo was put in the back, so he assumed it couldn’t be another vacation or they would have left him with the neighbours.

Still, it seemed like Hank wished this to be a surprise, so he looked down at the mini Sumo plush he had brought with him, stroking his fingers over the soft fabric. He chuckled to hear Sumo whining with jealousy from the back.

Connor managed to distract himself as such until the car pulled to a stop. Looking up, he found they were in the park.

Hank strode ahead of him once Sumo was on the leash, and he hurried to catch up. It didn’t seem like they were in the mood for sightseeing today, the scenery rushing by as Hank continued on.

But, just as Connor was about to inquire where they were going, he found himself at a familiar place. Looking out over the Detroit bridge.

Hank sat down on the bench, holding Sumo’s leash and patting the spot beside him for the dog to hop up.

“I remember this place.” Connor mused, standing beside the bench. Earlier in the day now, he didn’t look out at the stars twinkling overhead but instead the crisp summer sky. “You almost shot me here.”

Hank laughed. “If that’s what you’re asking; no, I’m not going to shoot you. That would be a shit birthday present.”

“It would indeed be rather unpleasant.”

“And illegal.” Hank added. “But… that is partly the reason I brought you here. Not the almost shooting thing. Maybe just the… almost.” He sighed.

“I wasn’t even gonna think about it; you were getting on my nerves, there was too much going on in my head… I was just going to shoot you. But then- you didn’t kill those tracis. And you stood there and told me you were afraid to die. This was the first place I realised that you were actually alive… and all the better for it, otherwise, where would we be now?”

Connor mulled it over. If Hank had shot him, it would have… well, severely halted the growth of their relationship.

“But I don’t want to think about that.” Hank continued on. “I didn’t shoot you. You had a heart. And now it’s your first birthday. In that year, you helped the leader of the android revolution… You pulled me out of whatever rut I’d fallen into. And honestly? I couldn’t see my life without you right now, son.”

Connor glanced to Hank as he paused. He didn’t comment on the way his voice had choked up, instead placing a hand gently on his shoulder, a sign of comfort.

“It’s really helped me, living not on my own again—no offense, Sumo. But just having someone in the house, you… Even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.” He chuckled.

“What I’m trying to say is… Well, I know you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. A long life. A life where you’ll always look like that, where you’ll be forever young- and a while from now, you’ll be living a new life, without—” he looked up to Connor. “But right now, where we are? I like that. I don’t want it to go away. So that’s why…”

It appeared Hank had hit his quota for sappiness, as he simply held out a piece of paper to Connor wordlessly.

Connor took it off him, quickly scanning over it. It was a form. Official looking, with Hank’s signature at the bottom, and room for his…

“An adoption form?”

“If it’s too much, just tell me. I don’t want you thinking I’m some clingy old man but—”

He handed it back to Hank, his signature printed on it. “Thank you… dad.” The word was strange. It wasn’t likely he’d always use it- but the meaning then, the feeling it brought… it was the best birthday present he could have asked for.

Hank smiled back to him. “Great. Now, what about we get out of here? The view’s pretty, but it’s gonna get hot as hell later in the day and that cake back at home isn’t going to eat itself.”

Connor followed after him, back to the car. “Of course. I have heard, however, about this new android update which can install human mechanics such as eating…”

“I’m not saving you any fuckin’ cake, Connor. It’ll go old.”

“Like you?”

Connor wouldn’t have it any other way. The small moments of genuine affection and feelings let out into the air… The regular day-to-day life of working at the DPD and bantering with Hank… Being forever young, one day, that all might end. But for now, he would live in the moment, and he would embrace it. All the emotions that would come with deviancy, whether good or bad, or even a mixture of both… He couldn’t ask for a better Lieutenant turned father-figure to help him through it.

#dbhcolorsofdeviancy #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh connor and hank #dbh fanfic #fanfic

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silvanable · 3 years

Note

Idk if hcs are open and ignore me if it isnt!! Can i request an angsty ikevamp prompt? How would suitors react to an MC he likes who likes another suitor? Both suitor and MC's love can be unrequited, and MC could come to suitor to talk about her unrequited love. If you want to make it super angsty, MC could be suitor's first actual romantic interest in a very long time. Plz feel free to choose any suitor, but my favs are leo/comte. I love your writings :) thanks so much!

i know you said headcanons but i saw this as a perfect opportunity to slap down an angst filled fic because i’m not doing so hot and i can’t process emotions unless it’s written format. anyways, i hope you don’t mind!

i figured it was about time i got back to my roots, bringing the unholy angst back that started this blog—

SO HAPPY THANKSGIVING AND WHY NOT WRECK CELEBRATE THE HOLIDAYS WITH A LITTLE ANGST, EH?

and everyone can cry with me because we all abso—fucking—lutely know that comte would sideline himself and his feelings for the better of others.

↪ GUIDELINES

✒ tags : unrequited love, comte x mc, mentioned mc x leonardo, angsty af, gn!reader mostly but love languages don’t have fucking gn terms

✒ warnings : n/a

✒ word count : 1740

It seemed this was some sort of punishment. It had to be, perhaps to make up for all the things he had done in his youth. Fitting, he would agree, but it did not lessen the pain.

Here you are, sitting in the garden with him.

A wistful sigh falls from your lips.

The things he would do to comfort you. To assure you that you were deserving of all admiration and love.

He would steal your breath with amorous kisses, only daring to relent when neither of you could last a moment longer without air. He would whisper every loving and reassuring word he could muster from his tongue. He would hold you close and keep you in his embrace until you understood how much he adored you.

He would do all these things because he loved you like any other before. You were intoxicating. The way you smiled brought warmth to his chest. The sound of your laughter was a melody he could never tire of. The scent of you was more intoxicating than any vintage wine that ever grazed his lips.

Without you, he was empty and hollow. You had brought the light back into his life. You had offered a hand to him and showed him a gentleness he believed he was undeserving of.

And perhaps he still was because your heart belonged to another.

Comte forced a small smile.

“Ma cherie,” He called your attention. Those beautiful eyes flickered away from the cup of tea in your hands and up to him. His heart still had not gotten used to such a sweet gaze upon him, yet now it was broken with sorrow.

“You said you wanted my advice on something?”

You pursed your lips in response. It seemed you were second-guessing yourself on the need to talk. Comte knew the expression you made all too well and offered a small, encouraging nod.

Another sigh escaped you, far heavier than the one before. “There’s… Someone I like and the problem is, well, they don’t seem to feel the same way.”

What a bitter irony of life.

“See,” You shifted, sitting up and twisted your hands in the hem of your sleeves, “It’s been a long time since I felt something for someone and… I don’t know— maybe I’m just over-analyzing it because they were nice.”

He understood, Comte understood entirely what you meant. After all, he was looking at the very person who had set a spark to his heart’s fire and he would never say a thing.

“Are you sure this mysterious suitor is just unaware of your affections?” He took a sip from the teacup in his hands. He tried to play it off calmly, to hold himself together.

Nothing was allowed to slip through his carefully crafted facade. It took decades to build such a gentlemanly persona and he would not allow himself to fall in shambles, back onto his old ways. No, he had to be a better man.

No matter how much this drove a knife into his chest.

You shrugged, defeated with a gesture of your hand. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because we’re just too different—personal—and don’t even get me started on time-traveling culturally!” An exasperated huff left you, somewhere between a broken laugh and squashed sob.

Comte said your name softly, “Surely there are things you have similar, things that drew you to this person,” He set the tea aside on the table between you both, “Have you confronted them about your feelings?”

As if he was one to talk about such a thing, with you just across from him, yet he hid a secret from you.

A growl of frustration erupted from your throat. “That’s the thing! I’ve tried so many times to find a good moment but any time I start, he somehow always manages to run away!” By now you were on your feet, angrily pacing through the gazebo.

“I mean, did I do something wrong? Is it because he’s a vampire and I’m not?” You vented, too caught in the whirlwind of your growing anger to notice the softness the pureblood gazed at you with.

He understood the fear of that commitment. You were mortal after all, he was not. No doubt the resident—who Comte had a growing suspicion of who, yet would not dare entertain the thought, not yet—feared their long life and falling for someone who would, eventually, pass away and leave them a broken heart.

He would love you nonetheless. If you were his, he would dare to turn you if you let him, so that he could have you to himself longer.

Selfish, yes, but if he had been fortunate enough to have your heart he would never want to let it go.

“Or is it because of the door? I don’t have to go back—hell! I’ve thought more than once these past few weeks about not going back!” You glared heatedly at the mansion. A gaze that was so fierce that the flames of it practically glowed in your eyes.

“But when I mention I might suddenly Leonardo—” Comte visibly flinched, you did not notice, “—is insisting that I go the moment I’m able when all I’ve been trying to tell him is I want to stay for him!”

How could you be so cruel and yet so gentle at the same time?

Comte had only wished you had never said his name, his closest friend. He could feel his heart twist, the ugly head of jealousy reared like a viper, but he forced it down.

He was a gentleman, one of the utmost kind.

Comte’s smile strained but to you, it was sympathetic. “You must understand, ma cherie, as pureblood vampires things are different for us.”

“Yes and?” You turned to Comte, expression twisted and asking to explain how any of that mattered. How did being different like that matter so much when you were so enamored with him that you were willing to give up everything you knew just to be with him.

“Does he not want me and just doesn’t want to tell me?” Your voice welled with emotion suddenly, “Does he think it’s sparing my feelings instead of telling me straight?” Tears gathered in your eyes.

It was painful to see you becoming so unraveled. At that moment, it took all his strength to remain poised and still, to not reach over and take you into his arms and kiss away all of your tears. But he could not be the jealous man, it was not his place, because he was not your lover. He was nothing but your host and he had to remain the courteous host for you.

And now of all times, he damned himself for taking that position, because it meant he would never have you.

“Perhaps he believes that not telling you will spare you of forcing your decision, of stealing the life you have ahead of you.” And to protect you from the heartache I feel now.

You sank back into your seat. A disheartened sigh fell from your lips as you put your head in your hands. “What should I do?” You lifted your head to look at Comte.

He could not resist your gaze, the way your beautiful eyes plead with him. He wanted to see that stunning smile of yours again, the one that brightened his days, the one he cherished in his dreams.

It was decided at that moment, he would see your smile again. Even if it meant he had to break his heart to have you happy. To see you happy was all he wanted.

“Let me speak with Leonardo,” He prayed you had not heard the jealousy hidden in his chest in his voice, “I’m sure I can find what is troubling my friend and spare you from any further pain.” He leaned forward, taking your hand in his.

If he could freeze time he would have, to engrave this moment in space and never let it pass. The warmth of your hand in his. How the light returned to your face with newfound hope. The sparkle in your eyes. Everything, he wanted to remember everything about you at this moment forever and preserve it.

Alas, time was fleeting, and moved on despite his desperate wishes. So he had to keep the memory, tucked away somewhere close to his heart, never to leave him even with the wear of time.

“You would?” The eager hopefulness in your voice was heart-wrenching.

“Of course, ma cherie,” He patted your hand before he reluctantly withdrew his touch, “This is an issue you have with one of my residents and I would not be a decent host to let these problems fester when they affect you so.”

You were absolutely beaming, a bright smile that could rival the sun’s own warmth and light. It was something he wished he could have basked in for eternity.

“Thank you so much, Comte,” You jumped from your seat, throwing your arms around him.

The action was so sudden it had taken him by surprise and yet before he could process and return the gesture, you drew away again.

“Thank you!” You repeated, gathering up the dishes from your tea chat, “I should go help Sebastian with dinner.” Your tone was practically ecstatic as you moved back towards the path to the mansion.

All the while Comte only smiled at you. Yet as your figure grew further and further away, fading into the gardens lush greenery, his smile began to gradually fall.

That facade of a caring, gentlemanly host shattered the moment you were gone. Emotions erupted from the tight fist that had held them at bay. Comte pressed a hand to his mouth, restraining the sounds of sorrow that threatened to burst from him. Amber eyes welled with unshed tears.

Emotions rushed over him like a tidal wave. There was no moment to breathe, not a chance to catch himself. No, these feelings grabbed hold of him and dragged him under. He would drown in them and nothing could save him now.

Comte swallowed hard and his eyes fluttered close.

The sky grew darker as time passed him by in silence.

He took a shaky breath and steadied himself, dropping his hand into his lap, as he regained his composure.

“For you,” His voice betrayed the emotions under the calm face, “For you, ma cherie, and your smile.”

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rejectofsociety · 3 years

Text

Summary: MJ’s days away from marrying Harry, but Peter is still depressingly in love with her and decides to confess.

Rated: T

Warnings: Lotta Cursing, Cliche as hell

Word Count: 7,208

Written for @spideychelleweek with the prompt “Love Confessions”

Also read here on AO3

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He should be happy for her— his dearest friend, Michelle, as her wedding is just days away. Peter should be hugging her as tightly as Ned does and smiling as brightly as Betty does. But he’s not. His smiles are thin and forced while his insides weep softly. And he doesn’t hug her at all, despite the physically affectionate person he usually is. He doesn’t even go near her all that much, as if the most innocent and brief touches could twist and strain his heart even more so than it already has been.

He’s not happy for her. Michelle’s getting married in two days, and Peter’s not happy for her.

He knows it’s stupid, pathetic, and petty to be hung up on his ex-girlfriend from highschool (they’re twenty-eight now), but he can’t help it. He’s tried moving past this undeniable, inescapable yearning for Michelle countless times. He had tried dating other people (to name a few: Gloria, Johnny, Liz— they are still friends now), but Peter’s relationships with them had been brief flings that ended swiftly.

Countless nights had been spent wondering if he was brave enough to ask Michelle for a second chance. But, memories of the look of dismay and the tears that stained her cheeks after he choked out: “I think we have to break up,” chased away any courage he gained. It was for the best, he always had to remind (rather, convince) himself. He had missed too many dates and important events, put her in danger one too many times, was incapable of keeping a job— he wasn’t enough for her.

So, now here they were. In Italy, with Michelle two days away from marrying her boyfriend of three years— Harry Osborn.

“Hey, Pete!” Harry calls, “are you coming with us or are you gonna keep staring off into space?”

Peter looks away from the sun setting peacefully and vibrantly on Vienna’s horizon and attempts to meet Harry’s gaze. His jaw goes tight and his eyes drop to his feet.

Harry’s a fine person— attractive as hell, stupid rich, and... that’s it actually. Maybe it was just him being bitter, but Peter saw no appeal past Harry’s looks and wealth. Sometimes he wonders if Michelle felt compelled to marry him for some reason. Why she would feel compelled to do something like that, Peter has no idea. But, he does know Michelle well enough to remember that she used to glare down at the thought of marriage.

“Sorry,” Peter grunts, after a brief pause.

“It’s alright, let’s just go,” Harry shrugs nonchalantly, “everyone’s real hungry.”

Peter only nods stiffly then follows Harry to the hotel lobby where their friends wait. In addition to Peter, Ned, Betty, Felicia, Gwen, and Johnny were the only ones who would be accompanying the engaged couple that night. Their parents (or aunt, in Peter’s case) had already gone out to dinner and the rest of the wedding guests weren’t close enough to Michelle or Harry to tag along.

Peter’s eyes briefly flicker to Michelle, lingering just long enough for him to spot her lopsided simper aimed towards him. His heart jumps joyously then sinks into the depths of his chest melancholily, prompting him to look away.

Sometimes, he swears her smiles were brighter, more relaxed, and more genuine as opposed to the tight-lipped grins she flashed at her fiancé.

“Where’re Liz and Miles?” Peter asks upon noticing the absence of his two friends.

“Miles said he was too tired,” Gwen answers, “and Liz already ate.”

He nods and stuffs his hands in his pockets, unsure of where to look. Before he can pick a spot to stare at, Johnny catches his attention with a clap of his hands.

“What’re we waiting for? Let’s go eat!” He speaks enthusiastically.

They all agree and Peter steals one more glance at Michelle— her sharp and calculative eyes, her flowing curls, her plump and unsmiling lips— before he tears his gaze away.

He wishes he could tell her how much he misses being her boyfriend. He thinks about the feeling of her lips against his and her hand grasping his palm every night— they always fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Are you still feeling sorry for yourself?” Ned asks somewhat teasingly as if he can read Peter’s mind— although, all he needed was to see Peter’s eyes lingering on Michelle.

“Psh, no,” Peter denies with a scoff.

Ned raises his eyebrows at Peter in disbelief. Peter sighs in defeat, knowing that he and Ned are at a point in their friendship where lying was impossible.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” he admits shamefully.

“Man,” Ned sighs, “you need to move on—“

“I know, I know.”

“—Peter, I’m serious. She’s literally getting married”

“I can’t help it, Ned,” Peter insists, “I’ve tried so hard to get over her. And I almost have, but then...” he looks over at Michelle to see her smile and snort a laugh at something Gwen said, “then I look at her and fall in love with her all over again.”

Ned blinks, “dude.”

“I know,” Peter suspires and ducks his head in embarrassment, knowing how much of a Hopeless Case he is.

“You’re a mess,” Ned states it as a fact as opposed to a teasing joke.

Peter grumbles, “I know.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Soon enough, the friends arrive at a restaurant that Johnny insists is the best place he’s ever eaten. But, Johnny is far from a picky eater and claims every other restaurant he eats at to be the best place he’s ever eaten. Peter trusts his judgement though, but only because they’re in Italy— where all the food tastes amazing.

They’re seated at a large, outdoor table, given their menus, and left to arrange themselves. Ned takes his seat next to Betty, who sits next to Gwen, who claims her seat aside Felicia, who sits by Johnny, who opts to sit across from Peter and next to Harry, who sat across from Michelle (“so I can see your beautiful face,” he cheekily justified.)

Conversation is quickly struck up amongst the group of friends. Peter sighs quietly then looks to his left, his heart stopping in its tracks and his lungs being stripped of oxygen when he lays eyes on Michelle. His eyes widen a little as he stares at her, using the moment to take in every detail of her face— the texture of her skin, the highlights in her eyes, the shine of her lips.

“Hey,” Michelle mutters to Peter, resting her hand lightly on the back of his palm and keeping her voice quiet as to avoid interrupting the conversation around them, “are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Peter opens and closes his mouth a few times dumbly, as if he has forgotten how to speak. His heart pounds and his skin grows feverish were her hand lays; his head grows light as if he’s stood up too fast and, suddenly, he finds himself in high school once again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he finally manages, his voice wavering.

“You sure?” She urges.

He nods quickly, “I’m sure. Are- um- are you okay?”

She raises an eyebrow and bobs her head, “do I look okay?“

“Y-yeah,” he stammers quickly, “you look really good.”

“Thanks, dork,” she chuckles and takes her hand away from his.

The corner of his mouth twitches into an unsteady simper and he manages to let out the breath that had been caught in the back of his throat. The warmth of her hand lingers on his skin and their gazes remain locked for a few moments extra.

Given the ability, Michelle would make everything look and feel as warm and sweet as Peter’s eyes were. Gazing into them feels like returning home to a lit fireplace and cup of hot chocolate on a cold, winter day. It makes her heart flutter and her face grow heated as she finds a small part of herself fighting away a yearning to be held by his protective, bulky arms.

He’s been so distant the past few years, but especially since they arrived in Italy together. She’s unsure if she’ll ever gain the courage to tell him (especially considering the fact that she’ll be wedded to Harry in just two days), but she can’t help but miss being his girlfriend sometimes. He always gave her the sweetest kisses and warmest hugs; her head fit perfectly on his shoulder and he never minded if she soaked his shirt with tears when she was having a hard time. And, if she’s really feeling brave, she can admit to herself that no one had made her feel loved in the way Peter had— that’s what had always made him stand out. Even Harry, who undoubtedly loves her, doesn’t make her feel quite like Peter had.

“I think everyone’s ready to order,” Harry observes, snatching up Peter and Michelle’s attention.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from Michelle, “I think so.”

Michelle meets her fiancé’s eyes and presses her lips into a thin smile. There it is, Peter thinks worriedly, there’s that fake smile.

Harry catches a waitress’s attention and the black haired woman paces over to their table. They each smile politely in greeting as she takes out her notepad.

“Buonasera, posso prendere i tuoi ordini?” the pretty waitress asks— good evening, may I take your orders?

“Sí,” Peter replies for his friends, being the most fluent in Italian.

He orders their meals for his company— excluding Michelle, who speaks for herself in near-perfect Italian. Peter’s eyes light up and he raises his eyebrows at her. She winks cheekily at him in response.

Peter wraps up the order then politely compliments the waitress’s curly hair, making her face flush and her lips spread into a smile. She sheepishly mutters “grazie mille” then left to relay their orders to the chef.

Despite knowing the compliment was merely for the sake of making the waitress smile (Peter loves to make people smile), Michelle can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. She misses Peter telling her how beautiful she is— he used to tell her everyday, making sure she never forgot.

“Sono colpito,” Peter praises Michelle— I’m impressed.

She smiles gently, “grazie.”

“Since when did you become fluent in Italian?” Betty asks Michelle, her voice bright— as always.

“I took some online lessons a little bit before we got here,” Michelle replies, then briefly glances at Peter, “I couldn’t let Peter be the only multilingual genius here.”

“Cute!” Felicia hums.

Peter flushes and Harry speaks up with a raised eyebrow, “I’m literally her fiancé?”

“Mm, right,” Felicia remembers, having momentarily forgotten why they had traveled to Italy.

The friends chuckle and Peter stirs in his seat, stealing a sideways glance at Michelle as he does so. His breath hitches and he quickly tears his gaze away when he sees her looking back at him.

Like all food in Italy, their dinner exceeds expectations. And as they eat, Harry seems to hold Michelle close. Somewhat physically, but mostly mentally— dragging her opinions into conversations, keeping his eyes locked on her as if to stop her eyes from trailing to Peter, reaching across the table to hold her free hand and making her smile that tight smile.

Peter can’t help but notice these things. He’s jittery with what feels like urgency, as though he’s had a window of opportunity gaping open for years, but now it’s shrinking and beginning to disappear. In two days— when Michelle marries— the window will be completely gone. Eating dinner aside his former lover is what does it for him— makes him realize how anxious he is and how badly his heart aches.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” Ned says later that night, when the sun has set and the friends have retreated to their hotel rooms.

“You do?” Peter raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair.

He feels guilt roll around in his stomach like a boulder every time he talks to Ned about Michelle. He knows Ned must be tired of the subject and tired of urging him to move on. Ned’s set Peter up with a handful of dates— he’s the reason Peter dated Johnny for a few months— but, he grew to give up when he realized the only person Peter could love as deeply as he loved Michelle— was Michelle.

“Yeah,” Ned nods, “if nothing else, you can get it off your chest.”

“But she doesn’t feel the same way,” Peter assumes, running his hand through his hair, “wh-what if I freak her out? Or she doesn’t wanna be friends anymore?”

Ned shrugs, “then say it was a joke or something.”

“Dude-“ Peter pauses, then mulls over his friend’s words for a moment, “... that’s actually not a horrible idea.”

“I know,” Ned replies flatly, “I also know that this—“ he gestures vaguely to Peter “—isn’t healthy.”

Peter hangs his head and sighs, embarrassed, “I know.”

“And who knows,” Ned adds, “you might feel a lot better afterwards.”

“Or a lot worse,” Betty chimes in as she emerges from the kitchen with a jar of pickled olives.

“Betty, seriously?” Ned huffs as she casually pops an olive in her mouth.

“‘M jus’ sayin,’” she mumbles through a mouthful.

“No, no,” Peter waves Ned off, “she’s right.”

“You guys—“ she swallows the olive then settles on Ned’s lap “—where so cute when you were together.”

Peter chuckles softly and nods, sweet memories dancing in his mind, “yeah she was- she is pretty, um... pretty damn great.”

“When’re you gonna tell her?” Ned asks, wrapping his arms around Betty’s torso.

“Um...” he rubs the back of his neck, “I’m- uh- I dunno. Soon, probably.”

Neds nods then Peter stands up and stretches. Whether he’ll actually talk to Michelle one-on-one (or confess his feelings to her), is still somewhat of a mystery to him— despite telling his friends he would. There’s a rather high chance he chickens out and bails, but for now, he needs to think it through.

“I’m gonna go take a walk,” he announces, plucking his jacket off a coat rack.

“Alright, don’t get lost,” Ned jokes.

“Be back before your bedtime,” Betty adds.

“Gee thanks, guys,” Peter sighs semi-enthusiastically.

He ducks out the front door and drags his coat over his shoulders. As he trudges through the grand halls of the hotel, his head spins dizzyingly. His mind races and swirls while simultaneously feeling stagnant— as if he’s hit some sort of brick wall that he needs to tear down.

Mulling over his obnoxious emotions, Peter steps outside. The night air is cool and crisp, quickly refreshing and relaxing Peter’s tense body.

Before he can pick a direction to start his walk, Peter is stopped in his tracks by a commotion inside the hotel. His ears prick up and his head whips around to look at the front doors. If he’s unmistaken, what he’s hearing is an argument between Michelle and her fiancé.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me, MJ!” Harry demands, “let’s just talk about this!”

“I told you, you can’t bitch at me when I look at another guy!” Michelle snaps, “that’s all I have to say.”

Cazzo, Peter thinks sharply to himself as he sucks in a breath. He quickly looks away as Michelle storms out of the hotel. She’s quickly stopped by Harry who grasps her wrist tightly.

“Can you just calm the fuck down?” Michelle challenges, snatching her wrist away from him, “I’m not leaving you, I’m just going on a goddamned walk!”

“Fine,” Harry huffs, “just be back soon.”

“Whatever,” she mutters carelessly as her fiancé whirls around and storms away.

Peter forces himself not to look at her, although she is less than a meter away from him. Instead, he stares at his feet anxiously, as if Michelle won’t notice him.

“Oh shi- hey, Peter,” Michelle startles as she turns around to see him.

Peter quickly forces a more smooth, less awkward appearance as he looks up at her with a half smile, “ciao bella,” he cheekily greets.

She hums her amusement and smirks at him, “No wonder Harry’s freaking out about us.”

“What, he wants a threesome or something?” He jokes dumbly.

Michelle lets out a laugh, her mood immediately improves. It’s impossible for her to not loosen up a little around Peter.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She chuckles, giving his shoulder a playful shove.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “a lot of things.”

Seeing his goofy grin, Michelle feels her heart flutter and her cheeks grow a little warm. Even years after she first fell in love with that idiot, he still makes her blush with the tiniest things.

“You- um,” Peter shuffles his feet uncertainly, “you wanna go on a walk? I-if not-“

“No, I’d love to,” she quickly interrupts.

A joyed smile spreads across his lips, “awesome.”

With hearts skipping and smiles beaming, the two begin walking down the sidewalk with their fists stuffed in their pockets to resist the urge to hold each other’s hands. In the resting city, the two friends remain quiet as both are unsure of what to talk about. Peter wisely chooses not to mention the fight he overheard, figuring that it’s none of his business and Michelle will bring it up if she wishes.

While Peter overthinks every step he takes, Michelle stares at her feet as she considers her situation: engaged to a decent man she likes, while feeling infinitely stronger towards her friend— and ex-boyfriend. She’s so far deep in her relationship with Harry that she feels that it’s pointless to leave it, especially when their wedding was as close as it was.

Sometimes, she felt as though she had made a mistake by saying yes when Harry proposed. She had froze when it happened, trapped by the gaze of his father and her family— she couldn’t humiliate him in front of everyone. And once the wedding plans had been made (it had all happened too fast for her to process), it felt like it simply made sense to marry him.

But then there was Peter. Several years ago (it felt like a lifetime had passed since), he had broken up with her and shattered her heart in the process. At first she had furious with him, then she was just sad, and now she still got upset from time to time— when she thought too hard about it— but she mostly missed Peter. She had never quite been able to fall out of love with him, even when she was tied down with an engagement ring. She doubts he returns the feelings that she holds for him— the ones that make her face grow warm, her heart flutter, and her head spin. He can take her back in time to high school with a smile and make her feel like the same girl who’d fallen head over heals for him. She hates it.

“How’s everything with Harry?” Peter blurts, internally cursing himself the moment the words leave his mouth.

“Um...” her voice trails off as she looks for the words.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly corrects himself, “y-you don’t have to-“

“No, no— it’s okay,” she assures, “things with Harry are... I-I don’t really know. He’s fine— mostly. But tonight, he got all pissed off that I looked at you during dinner. And it’s not the first time he’s done this either.”

“Oh,” Peter frowns, “that seems like an overreaction.”

Michelle sucks in a breath and nods. If he knew how she really felt, he would see what Harry’s been upset about. Harry isn’t oblivious (unlike Peter seems to be), and he doesn’t miss the longing glances she casts in her ex’s direction or the beaming smiles she flashes him a little more than necessary.

“I mean, it’s-“ she cuts herself off with a shrug, “he’s just like that.”

Peter bobs his head slightly and averts his gaze to his feet. He notices they’re crossing a bridge now as they speak— it’s the first time he’s noticed their surroundings that night. Usually, when Michelle’s in the picture, everything fades out of focus but her.

Before his mind can spiral into a whirlwind of thought, he finds himself blurting a question he knows he probably shouldn’t ask— makes him sound like a jackass (or a dumbass, depending on who’s listening):

“Why’re you marrying him?”

“What?” Michelle stops in her tracks and looks at him, seeming mildly offended.

He stops with her and rushes to correct himself, “I-I mean- like- it just seems like—“ he pauses a moment to collect his thoughts— “it seems like you don’t seem to sure about all—“ he gestures vaguely— “this. But that’s just what it looks like to me. I could be wrong-“

“No, you’re not completely wrong,” she says quickly, “I’m a little... I-i don’t know. I guess it just seems like it makes the most sense.”

“‘It makes the most sense?’ Is he, like- paying you or something?”

“No!” She defends, “fuck no. What-“

“Hey, hey,” he holds out his hands submissively, feeling his face heat up a little “it was just a joke. I’m kidding.”

She sighs softly, “it was a bad joke.”

“Yeah, I know,” he rubs the back of his burning neck, “sorry. It just... kinda feels like maybe you shouldn’t be doing something just because ‘it makes sense.’”

She eyes him closely, her shoulders relaxed again, “what do you mean?”

“I mean I’m a spider-themed vigilante, Johnny sets himself on fire, Felicia is both our best friend and thief I’m supposed to stop every night, and I—” he stops himself before he can add ‘I’m in love with you’ to the list of oddities “—the only thing that makes sense here is the fact that Harry is rich despite never working a day of his life.”

Michelle hums softly in agreement then asks: “where are you going with this?”

He sighs and pauses a moment, “I... I guess I just don’t want you to go through with this and regret it later. But I-I dunno. It’s none of my business.”

She steps back and leans against the bridge’s railing. Peter watches her carefully, trying to guess what she’ll do next. He won’t show it, but he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her close to his chest and kiss her a thousand times. It makes him anxious as he feels it all building up every second he spends with her. He’s hid his feelings like treasure for all too long and he’s so close to caving in and revealing them.

“It’s like you don’t want me to get married,” she observes.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he ducks his head and averts his eyes to the ground. His heart thunders in his ears and a rosy tint decorates his cheeks. He swallows thickly then lets out a shuddering breath.

Michelle’s eyes widen a little and her mouth falls open. His not-so-secret secret hits her in the chest like Thor’s hammer.

“You... don’t want me to get married,” she states and a small sense of almost-hopefulness flutters in her chest.

He shakes his head and shifts on his feet.

She eyes him closely, her heart pounding with anticipation. She thinks she knows the answer of what she’s about to ask next, but she’s unsure. Part of her hopes and begs that her suspicions are true, the other part of her dreads that she might be right and prays to no one that she’s wrong.

“Why not?” She asks, her voice shaky.

Peter takes a deep breath and gives himself a moment. He needs to think, clear his head, and- no. No, that’s the last thing he needs. He’s done too much overthinking and it’s all built up to this moment. He overthought their relationship, he overthought his feelings for her, he overthought and overthought and overthought and on and on and on— he could never seem to stop the racing of his mind.

But, in this moment, his mind finally slows to a halt. He looks up at Michelle and collects himself— only thinking about her.

Finally he confesses:

“Because I’m still in love with you.”

Michelle can only stare for a few beats. She can’t recall a time where she felt so much joy and disappointment in a single seconds. Her chest rises and falls, she wants to cheer and cry, her heart is heavy as led and light as air— all in the same breath.

Peter continues with sadness glossing over his eyes, “I know you don’t feel the same-“

“No, Peter,” she cuts him off with a wavering voice, “that’s the problem... I do.”

His eyes widen and a single word falls dumbly from his lips: “what?”

“I feel the same,” she says but it doesn’t satisfy her until— “I’m still in love with you too.”

Peter can only stare a moment, stumbling over his words as he finds himself breathless and his heart fumbles as if it’s forgotten how to beat. Even in his wildest dreams and fantasies— he could never imagine those words leaving her mouth.

“But I can’t be,” Michelle chokes out after a beat, drawing Peter’s attention to the conflicted tears in her eyes, “I can’t be in love with you—“ she runs her hands through her hair “—I’m supposed to be in love with someone else but I’m not a-and I can’t... I can’t... I can’t fall out of love with you.”

Peter leans back against the bridge and looks at her with pity in his gaze, “MJ, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” her head falls into her hands, “you’re not the one engaged to the wrong guy.”

Peter’s heart skips a beat at her words— ‘wrong guy’ implying that there’s a ‘right guy,’ and her eyes implying that the ‘right guy’ is the one she’s looking at. And they’re both looking at what could have and should have been their future. And they both hate and love it in the most odd, confusing, and twisted way.

“Y’know...” Peter begins, “I can think of at least three movies and six shows where this happens.”

Michelle laughs breathily yet there’s still sadness in it. Peter chuckles with her, a longing smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” Michelle chuckles, “it’s really fucking cliché.”

For a while longer, they gaze at each other, feeling as though a great burden has been lifted off their shoulders, only for another one to be placed atop their conscious. Their skin is itching with a yearning for each other’s touch and they can feel their hearts reaching for each other.

They can feel the strong longing radiating off each other and not a word needs to be spoken. Peter reaches for Michelle’s hand and she takes it gratefully. He pulls her to his body and stands on the tips of her toes, making a faint smile twitch onto Michelle’s parted lips.

There’s no hesitation between them as their lips collide, just as soft and warm and comfortable as they both remember. Michelle lets out a sigh of relief through her nose, cupping his face in her hands and tilting her head to the side as she’s greedy to feel more of him. Peter’s arms fall around her waist and, for the first time that night, his heart falls into an even rhythm. It’s calm and even as it slows into sync with Michelle’s own pitter-pattering heart.

It’s the first time in a long time they’ve felt at peace.

Slowly and hesitantly, they withdraw from each other. Michelle looks at Peter’s moonlit face through her half-closed eyes, taking in the tranquil look of bliss on his face. His eyes are still closed, his head still tilted to the side, and his lips still loose. She can’t remember the last time she saw him this relaxed.

Then the guilt hits her— and it hits her damn hard, like a punch to the chest.

Harry poured all this time and money into the wedding, all their friends and family have arrived in Italy, thousands of dollars of dresses and flowers and food and desserts have been picked out, their loved ones cleared their schedules just for this— just for Harry and Michelle. For her.

“Peter,” she says, her voice a whisper that urges him to open his eyes and look up at her, “this can’t happen.”

He blinks a few times, his expression melting into a frown, “MJ?”

She tilts her head to the side and cups his cheek in the palm of her hand. He leans into her touch, his attentive eyes never parting with hers.

“I can’t be with you,” she continues, seeing how her words break his heart, “did you really think I’d just leave with you?”

“I-i don’t know what I thought,” he admits shakily, “I guess I just... I don’t- I don’t know.”

She strokes his cheek with her thumb, “do you at least understand why I have to go through with this?”

His eyes trail off to the side and he nods slowly. But he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why she should pretend to love someone she doesn’t or why she should worry about wasting Harry’s money when they both know that nothing could put a dent in his bank account or why- this isn’t a cliché movie or a poorly written show. That’s why. This is real life and even though they’ve confessed their love for each other, Michelle can’t automatically shut down an entire wedding just for him.

Michelle leans in to plant another kiss on his lips but he turns his head away. She stops and frowns but respects his wishes and steps away from him.

There’s a heaviness to each other’s presence. There’s a sadness in the air now, laced with longing and clouded with a mutual love for each other. There’s nothing left to do or say, so Michelle whispers:

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And walks away, back towards the hotel.

Peter watches her for a moment then looks away. He inhales a wobbly breath then shakily releases it. He knees are weak and trembling below him and his head spins dizzyingly, forcing him to drop into a crouch. He lets his head fall into his hands as his thoughts begin to race. He hates it when they do that.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, then he shouts it and he hates himself for disturbing the peace of the city.

“Fuck!”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Michelle lays awake almost all night beside Harry. She stares at the ceiling with a blank expression as she mulls over the events of the night.

She lets out a breath as she turns and looks at Harry who’s fast asleep and thinks he and Michelle talked things through. He thinks everything’s been settled and thinks Michelle has agreed to keep her distance from Peter, but Michelle still has no idea if she cares to uphold the one-sided promise.

She would love to make things as simple as Harry thinks they are— ignore Peter, get rid of any love she has for him, and give Harry her full attention— but she’s already tried doing that several times. It never works. Nothing ever works.

Michelle covers her face with her hands and draws in a deep breath.

“What the fuck am I doing?” She whispers to the ceiling.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Peter doesn’t arrive at his hotel room till much later in the night. When he enters his hotel room, he’s as quiet as possible only to find Ned and Betty awake on the couch with a movie playing. Ned pauses the television and looks over at Peter.

“Hey, man,” he greets tiredly, “did you talk to Michelle?”

“No,” Peter lies.

“Why not?” Betty asks with a frown.

“Because she’s probably in her room with Harry or something,” he explains, “it’s not like I’d go to their room and confess right in front of her fiancé.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Betty agrees.

“Do you wanna watch this movie with us?” Ned offers, “it’s in Italian and we can’t really understand it, but it’s still fun to watch.”

“Thanks, man,” he smiles lopsidedly, “but I’ll pass. I think I’ll just head off to bed.”

“Alright. G’night, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Ned. You too, Betty.”

With that he ducks into his room and plops onto his bed. He can’t help but regret every word he spoke that night. And, call him dramatic (he kind of is), but he isn’t sure how he’ll manage a casual conversation (or any conversation) with Michelle after all this. Maybe he’ll cut himself off from her, pretend this never happened, try to forget about her. He could move to Italy and- no, no. That’s too dramatic. Although Italy is nice.

He’s not even sure how it happens— maybe it’s the emotional exhaustion— but he falls into a deep and heavy sleep within an hour.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Michelle awakes at roughly five in the morning with a growling stomach and foggy head. She groans tiredly and pushes her hair out of her face.

“You awake?” She grumbles, barely audible.

“Yeah,” Harry replies, not looking away from whatever he’s doing on his phone.

“Can you make me some toast?” Michelle asks, still melted into her pillow.

Harry raises an eyebrow, “Um, no?”

She rubs her face, “you serious?”

“Yeah. I’m not making you toast at five in the morning,” he almost laughs, “you can do it yourself.”

She groans again and stretches as much as she can without invading Harry’s space. It’s going to be a long marriage, she thinks with a sigh, immediately knowing she should definitely not be thinking that.

She brushes it off, stands up, then makes her way to the kitchen in her pajamas. Despite being hardly awake, she’s already annoyed with Harry— she really isn’t asking for much from him. Not just with the toast, but with things in general. She wanted him to spend a little less time focusing on his work (never gonna happen); she wanted him to be a little more considerate (nope); she wanted him to be a little more relaxed when it came to her spending time with guy friends (naw).

Her toast pops up and she takes one look at the slab a bread before deciding to trash it.

“How the fuck?” She grumbles, gingerly picking up the blackened toast, “how did you burn? That was like, five seconds.”

She sighs and tosses the toast into the trash can, almost hoping it will make the entire room smell burnt just to piss off Harry. No, don’t think that. She corrects herself quickly as she leans against the island and closes her eyes lightly. Maybe Harry isn’t as bad as she’s making him out to be. He’s... fine. She can live with and tolerate him for a few years. With that thought, her mind brings back a memory of last year.

•

“You know, baby,” her aunt spoke gently as she braided Michelle’s hair, “I’m not trying to judge you or Harry-“

“Just get to the point,” Michelle muttered tiredly.

Her aunt sighed, “I’m gonna tell you the same thing my momma told me fifty years ago: you shouldn’t marry someone you can just live with, you should marry someone you can’t live without.”

Michelle closed her eyes lightly, “what’re you trying to say?”

“I know Harry loves you, but how much do you love him?”

“Enough.”

“But could you live without him?”

Michelle went quiet, having no will to reveal the answer. However, her silence was enough for her aunt— she knew the answer.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said softly as she tied off the braid and kissed the top of her niece’s head.

•

“Fuck,” Michelle whispers to herself as the memory fades.

Her aunt is right— always has been. She could live happily (probably even happier) without Harry. She was only wasting her own time by agreeing to be around him longer than she had too. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Harry for him to be married to a woman who doesn’t love him back. And yes, he had spent thousands of dollars on this wedding, but he could spend thousands of dollars on many weddings without denting his bank account. And yes, their friends and family had come all the way to Italy just for the wedding, but that was ultimately just a few days of their long lives spent in a beautiful city instead of cooped up at their shitty jobs. Also, Harry had paid for their flights, so it was hardly a loss on their part.

But, more importantly— she considers this as her gaze trails off to the bedroom door— she could never love Harry the way she loves Peter and has loved him for a long time.

And then there was that kiss. The warmest, most loving kiss she’s felt in a long time.

She thinks about that kiss a moment to long and suddenly there’s grin on her lips and her heart his pounding and her chest is swelling with joy. And suddenly her body’s moving without her even thinking about it.

She rushes out of her suite and down the halls and she skids to a stop in front of the room Peter shares with Ned and Betty. She quickly knocks on the door and Betty answers it a moment later.

“Oh! Hey, Em-“

“Is Peter awake?” Michelle interrupts.

Betty’s eyes light up instantly, “yeah, I think so.”

Without another word, Michelle shoves past her and Betty breaks into an excited grin as she watches her friend.

Peter’s door is cracked opened so Michelle only knocks lightly before stepping inside. Peter sits up quickly and his eyes go wide upon seeing her.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” she says weakly, unsure of how to say what she’s about to say.

He shakes his head, “no, you’re fine.”

“That’s… um…” her voice trails off.

Suddenly, before Peter can process, she’s across the room and in his arms as he holds her on his lap. She cradles the back of his neck in her hands and leans forward to kiss him. This time he doesn’t turn away and he lunges to connect their lips. This time the kiss is eager and a little sloppy— rushed, like they’re running out of time.

Michelle pulls away, her eyes wide and glistening as her chest heaves and her heart pounds with adrenaline. Peter stares back at her, wonderstruck and sporting a wide grin.

“I wanna get out of here,” Michelle states, determined and confident, “I wanna leave here with you.”

Peter’s heart flutters with so much joy, he swears he might cry.

“Are you serious?” He asks, just to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes, I’m serious,” she says sternly in a way that hits Peter in the chest and makes him laugh a little. “I wanna go— now.”

“Then let’s fucking go,” Peter cheers excitedly.

She peppers his face with light kisses for a quick moment and he doesn’t bother stifling his soft giggles as her lips tickle his cheeks.

The next moment, they’re up and off Peter’s bed and rushing out of his room and towards the front door. As Peter notices Michelle is still wearing no more than a skimpy tank top and pajama shorts, he stops and grabs his coat from the coatrack.

“Here,” he drapes it over her shoulders and she slides her arms through the sleeves.

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, her cheeks a little warm as she gratefully pecks the side of his face.

He grins at her and they hurry out the front door, holding each other’s hands like their lives depend on it. When they duck inside the elevator, they take the few seconds of privacy to litter each other’s faces in rushed, excited kisses.

Moments later, they’re walking as fast as they can without running through the hotel lobby.

“MJ, Peter!” They hear Felicia call, making them whirl around as their hearts stop.

Felicia has an apple in her hand from the free breakfast the hotel provides. Like every morning, she’s taking advantage of being an early bird so she can get to the best food before anyone else can.

“Where are you off too?” She asks casually.

“We’re- um-“ Peter glances at Michelle, “we, uh-“

“We’re leaving,” Michelle answers for him.

Felicia gasps excitedly, immediately realizing what’s happening, “oh my gosh, I love this trope!”

Peter laughs and Michelle rolls her eyes with a smile. From behind Felicia, Johnny tosses Peter two muffins that he catches swiftly.

“Don’t forget breakfast,” Johnny reminds with a grin.

“Thanks, man,” Peter says then his eyes widen a little with a realization and he looks at Michelle, “our stuff is still in our rooms—“

“Oh shit—“

“—I mean, I got my phone but that’s it.”

“We can get your stuff for you,” Felicia offers.

“Yeah, just text us a rendezvous and we’ll be there,” Johnny agrees.

“Awesome, thank you,” Peter gratefully replies, Michelle thanking them at the same time. “Love you guys.”

“Love you too, Pete,” Felicia laughs, “now get the hell out of here.”

“Right,” Michelle grabs Peter’s arm and they thank their friends once more.

Then, smiling like the idiots they are, they run out of the hotel together. They rush down the same path they walked along the night before, making it across the bridge where they kissed, and hurrying through the streets that are fairly empty.

They run until the hotel is long behind them and then a little further.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Michelle pants quickly.

Peter slows to a stop and Michelle stumbles to a halt beside him. He smiles at her and brushes her hair out of her face, still holding the muffins Johnny threw at him in one hand.

“Let’s sit down,” Peter nods to an elegant fountain that spurts water from several different tiers, “maybe figure out where we’re going.”

“Yeah,” Michelle laughs a little, breathlessly.

They sit on the edge of the fountain together and Michelle leans against Peter as she catches her breath. Peter rests his head on her shoulder and sinks into her gratefully.

The run may not have tired him out, but he was (up until five minutes ago) exhausted. Finally, as he breathes in the fresh air of the morning, he feels like he can rest— like he’s found real peace. He knows Michelle feels the same. She doesn’t have to say it, he just knows as he can practically feel the burden she just lifted off her shoulders.

“I have an idea,” Peter says softly after a moment.

“What is it?” Michelle asks, holding him close to her with an arm around his back.

“We should go to Paris,” he explains, “you’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower— and I’ve always wanted to kiss you there.”

Michelle looks down at him and he looks up at her. She grabs his chin lightly and gently molds their mouths together, unable to get enough of the feeling of his lips against hers.

“It’s perfect,” she says as she pulls away.

Already leaning in for another kiss, Peter smiles as he says: “let’s fucking do it.”

#spideychelle week #I forgot to post this yesterday #its still Monday if you’re tired enough #spideychelle #petermj #peter parker #spiderman #michelle Jones #mj #im so tired #spiderman ffh #spiderman hoco #harry osborn #fanfic

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vodkaxtonic · 4 years

Note

Can you do a Suki x reader one shot? The reader is Sokka’s twin and is jealous over the growing relationship between sokka and suki. WLW please 🥺❤️❤️😔

Jealousy •Suki x Reader•

A/N: Sorry, this took so long! I hope you like it though!

Wordcount: 1,4K

Warnings: cussing, lighthearted flirting

You scoffed as you watched Sokka and Suki from afar, angrily sharpening your arrows as your teeth ground against each other. It's always fucking Sokka, and it made you angry. Even though you were the first one to talk to her, to make her like you, she seemed to like your twin. What did she see in Sokka, you asked yourself. Your brother was a full-on moron, though, he could be brave and tough, he was an absolute idiot. You knew that you were jealous, even though you'd never admit it. You had too much pride to do so.

"Y/n?" Your head snapped towards your sister, Katara, as you raised your eyebrows. "I know you and Sokka are close, closer than you and I or Sokka and I will ever be, and this will never change, not even if Suki is in his life," Katara explained, a reassuring smile on her face. If that was the problem, you thought. You only nodded, your eyes gazing towards the arrowhead that you sharped as you watched it from all angles for any imperfections, a satisfying sound escaping your mouth as you realized that it was perfectly shaped. You sighed deeply, putting the knife back into the sheath that was attached to your belt. "Do you mind getting some water from the stream with Suki?" Katara asked, eyebrows raised in question. "Why can't Zuko come with me?" You whined a bit, not wanting to be alone with Suki. Hearing Suki, who you had a crush on, daydream about your twin? No, thank you. "Zuko is teaching Aang how to firebend. Also, you need to talk to Suki. You can't hate her if she's dating Sokka, you know that." You groaned in response, begging for your sister to shut up for once. You loved her, but she seemed to make everything worse than it already was. "Fine." You gave in before you took the two buckets, making your way over to your brother and Suki. Their conversation seemed to quiet down immediately as they saw you walking over, making you raise your eyebrows. "Suki, Katara said we should get some water from the stream." "Oh, I can help Suki! Because...you know you hurt yourself in Omashu." That was a pathetic excuse, you thought. The pain from your strained muscle was still hurting, but you weren't completely incapable of moving. Just a bit slow. "I got it." "Oh, come on, Y/n!" Sokka begged, and that was the only thing you needed to snap. "You know what?" With that, you let the buckets fall onto the ground, theatrically raising your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want." Without another word, you turned around, stomping over to your tent, ineffectively trying to suppress your anger as you slipped inside.

"Y/n?" Your body tensed as you heard Suki's worried voice in front of the tent. "Can I come in?" You wanted to tell her to fuck off, you wanted to, but when her words sounded so pleading? Could you turn her away? You only groaned in response, before you muttered a quiet 'yes' loud enough for her to hear as the tent opened. With ease, Suki slipped inside as you turned on your back, clasping your hands behind your head as you looked at her. "What's wrong?" You had to hold your laugh back as you looked at her, shaking your head in annoyance. "Nothing." "Doesn't seem like nothing." God, could she just let it go already? "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to be honest with me!" Suki said, her voice a little louder, more demanding this time. "We're friends, after all." Friends, you thought, your gaze darkening. Friends, and nothing more. "Don't worry, go back to Sokka. Else that poor boy will die." There was a bitterness in your voice that sent cold shivers down Suki's spine. "What do you mean?" She questioned, leaning over a bit while you sat up, annoyance and anger clear on your face. "Don't you get it, Suki? Are you that fucking dumb?" You snapped, your voice loud as she backed away a bit at your emotional outburst. "I don't get it-" "Of course you fucking don't. I could write it in the sky for you, and you wouldn't get it!" Your voice was loud, as she backed away a little further. "You're really mean right now, Y/n," Suki said, her voice a little quieter, and maybe if you would've looked a bit harder, you would've seen the tears in her eyes. "Maybe you should go back to Sokka then, and leave me the fuck alone." That was enough for Suki to stand up, miserably trying to cover up her pained expression. You followed suit, standing in front of her with your arms crossed. "I was just trying to help-" "Of course you were as if seeing you with my brother every fucking day isn't making my life a living hell! Do you fucking enjoy it?" You asked, your pulse rising with the anger within you. God, how can one girl cause so much pain and happiness at the same time? You couldn't explain it if your life depended on it. "What are you even talking about?" Suki's voice raised again, done with your weird mood swings. That seemed to send you over the edge as the next words left your mouth, and you immediately wished you could take them back. "Because I'm in love with you, do you fucking get it now?"

Silence filled the tent as you and Suki stared at each other in shock at your confession, and uncomfortable heat rising to your face. "You guys know we're not in an actual house? We can hear every word." "Shut up, Zuko!" You and Suki yelled in unison at the firebender that had poked his head into the tent before you gave him a firm shove out of the tent, only hearing as thump as he fell on his ass. "Why didn't you just tell me, then?" Suki asked, eyebrows raised. You could see a smile covering her face, eyes lighting up, and it confused you even more. "Because you're dating my brother?" You answered as if it was obvious, even more confused when Suki started laughing. "You think I'm dating Sokka?" "Well, yeah." You answered, suddenly unsure of everything you had seen. But they were so close there was no way you imagined this. "You wanna know why Sokka and I are so close?" Suki asked, a smirk on her face as she stepped up to you, making you back up as your face turned red. This took a whole different turn than you had expected, and you weren't sure what to think about it. "Because Sokka was trying to help me to ask you out." Your jaw almost kissed the ground as you halted in your steps. Now you felt dumb. "B-but-" Before you could say something else, her lips pressed upon yours with so much confidence and passion that it knocked the oxygen out of your lungs. It took a few seconds for the shock to wear down, your eyes fluttering close as Suki pulled you in, your hand wrapping around the back of her neck as your fingers tangled in the back of her hair, slightly pulling as she gasped against your mouth.

"This is pretty gay." You and Suki jumped apart, heavily breathing as Zuko and Sokka poked their head into the tent again. "Shut up, Sokka!" You groaned loudly, your face red as you let your hand run over your face. "And why the hell would you think I'm dating Suki? I only have feelings for one traumatized grumpy firebender." "Wait, what?" Now it was Zuko's turn to be shocked, and you grinned as Sokka's face reddened. "Nevermind that." "Don't walk away like this!" Zuko ran after Sokka, who seemed to sprint away, leaving you and Suki on your own again as you grinned at each other. "If you ever yell at me like that again, though..." Suki's voice was warning as she stared at you. "I'll punish you." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she smirked at you, making your breath hitch in your throat, and you only nodded. "Good. So I guess we're in a relationship now?" Suki questioned, smiling as she laced her fingers with yours. "I guess so." You chuckled, pulling her close once again, taking a deep breath. Maybe you had seen all of this from the wrong perspective from day one.

#suki x reader #suki atla #suki #sokka #sokka x zuko #zukka #atla #katara #aang #suki x you

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clickbait-official · 3 years

Text

Warnings: cursing, everyone is ooc, violence, weird writing

~~~

The sun rises on a horrible day.

You wake up knowing it will be a terrible day.

It's one of those days you just know.

You have a mother and an older twin.

Your older brother’s name is Izuku. He is very nice.

Izuku talks about someone named Kacchan?

He doesn’t seem half as nice as your brother makes him seem, after seeing him in person.

Izuku’s always very jumpy around Kacchan. Like he’s afraid.

But one day that changed.

~~~

“Hey! Extra! Come here!” Bakugou calls out to you, thinking you’re Izuku.

He expects you to jump, and generally be how Izuku is around Kacchan.

But you’re not Izuku. You’re you. And that sentence does not sound grammatically correct.

Things happen, and because you already knew it was going to be a bad day, it’s no surprise when Bakugou accidentally breaks your arm.

He freezes.

He picks you up and runs to Recovery Girl.

She asks what happened, and as Bakugou goes to answer, you whisper

“I fell down the stairs and hurt myself bad.”

Bakugou nods along.

~~~

“Why did you lie for me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I-”

“I fell down the stairs, and you just helped me to Recovery Girl. Like every other hero-in-training would. Got it?”

“I-yes.”

~~~

Izuku notices that Kacchan doesn’t bully him anymore. He asks his friend group, and eventually you.

“Hey, what happened with Bakugou? He seems kind of… scared? Whenever I come near him, he doesn’t even yell! It’s like a whole different person! Do you know why he’s acting so weird?” He asks one day.

You decide to tell him the truth.

“Don’t get angry, big bro.”

You only ever pull out the “big bro” when you might be in trouble.

“But you know how I broke my arm the other day?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, umm, Kacchan accidentally broke my arm?”

“WHAT?!?”

“Shh! Don’t yell!”

“Where is he?”

He looks around and upon seeing him, marches over.

“You.”

Bakugou turns around

“What the hell do you want, stupid deku?”

“You have no right to look at me like that. You know what you did.”

“What did he do?” Denki asks

“He broke my sibling’s fucking arm and for what? Petty jealousy? Run after me all you want but don’t ever come never my sibling ever again.”

The courtyard is silent. Then the whispers start.

“He seems really angry.”

“This doesn’t seem like him.”

“We probably shouldn’t go after his fucking silbling, jesus christ”

He turns on his heel and brings you back to the school.

Bakugou apologizes later.

~~~

“I’m-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, i guess. Just don’t do it again, oky? And don’t go after my brother!”

Conversation slowly dies out and you two stand there, neither really wishing to part.

Izuku comes up.

“What did I tell you, Bakugou?”

He grabs Bakugou’s arm and drags him away

And everyone’s like woah bitch is pretty damn strong.

Izuku just talked to Bakugou. Saying not to go near his darling sibling.

You were eating lunch outside when a very strange group of people showed up about 100 yards away.

Izuku recognized them, apparently.

“The LOV!”

They grabbed your arm and tried to pull you away.

But Bakugou punched one of them, and so their attention was on them.

“Take me instead.”

So they took him away.

By saving you, he sacrificed himself.

You ought to pay your debts, you know.

Tis the law of equivalent exchange.

It’s 9 when you leave a note for your brother. Just in case you don’t come back.

You sneak out the night after looking for him.

No one is awake in the city.

It’s a quiet night.

You walk near an abandoned warehouse when you hear an explosion from the inside.

Bakugou?

“Just go the fuck to sleep, brat.”

That sounded like one of the villains!

You stay outside for a while before sneaking in.

The door opens to a hallway

There’s a cell on the right side.

Inside was… Bakugou?

You grab the key and open the cell. You walk in, and shake him awake. He looks exhausted.

“Cmon, we gotta go.”

He stirs awake and sits up. He stands up slowly.

You lead him out of the cell and down the hall.

While walking down the hall, you two smack into something. It’s soft and fleshy.

A person?

No. A nomu. Which is arguably worse.

But the nomu was pink?

It turned around slowly

The nomu was very vain.

It’s one of those things you just know.

The nomu still had hair?

And the amount of hairspray the nomu used had probably single-handed caused climate change.

Your fav the nomu is problematic.

After complimenting it many times, the nomu lets you go.

You know, to move the plot forward.

You run out of the building into the nearby woods.

Rushing through the thorny bushes- Bakugou goes first so you don’t get hurt.

Kinda hot, ngl.

Katsuki cuts himself on a rather large thorn, and curses quietly.

He knows now’s no place to be loud.

You rest under a tree.

You only brought a small backpack w/ water, snacks, and a small medical kit.

You fix his arm. He goes much quieter.

“Thank you.” He says, real softly.

After putting away the medical kit, you fall asleep on him.

He feels your head on his shoulder and turns his head towards you.

“What the hell, extra- oh.”

He picks you up and starts walking.

~~~

It’s 4 in the morning when you wake up.

“Finally, stupid. We gotta go now.”

You two walk back to his dorm.

He lays you on his bed, then lays beside you.

You both fall asleep to the sun rising.

~~~

“Should we go in?”

“If there’s any evidence of where my sibling is, I want to see it.”

The door opens wildly.

Several eyes roam the room before landing on the people on the bed.

“They’re here?”

Izuku runs into the room.

“Why are you here? How’d you get here? Did the LOV do anything to you? Are you hurt? Why is Baku-“

You smack Izuku and hug Bakugou closer.

He opens an eye open and says

“We’ll talk to you dumbasses later.”

Then falls back asleep. Soon, you do too.

“Aww” Kirishima whispers.

Izuku smiles a little.

“As long as he doesn’t hurt her again, i guess i’ll be happy for them”

-timeskip to many years later-

“Cmon, dad! We’re having a playdate with Uncle Midorya’s kid!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You’ve gotten married 20 years later and adopted a kid. You’re happy, with your little family.

The End.

(that ending was really rushed sorry bout that)

#bakugou x reader #tw bullying #tw bones #it was supposed to be an enemies to lovers but i failed #oops #:/#bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #clickbait

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rpd-rookie · 4 years

Note

hi ! I wanna request an angsty oneshot (with a happy ending,,) of carlos x reader. something where maybe reader suspects carlos is cheating and confronts him and it results in huge agruments or something along the lines of a fight (nothing physical ofc) but it ends up getting resolved in the end?

Author’s note: Before reading, I just want to make thing clear by saying that I have nothing against Valeveira shippers or the ship in itself. If anything, I respect it (as I respect all ships in the RE fandom) and perfectly understand why people ship Carlos and Jill so much (I’m not blind I felt the sexual tension in RE3remake). I have nothing against Jill either. To me Jill Valentine is the Goddess of Resident Evil along with Claire. It is very important for me to say all this because the last I wrote a jealousy-themed one shot that included a RE ship (that was Aeon) I incurred the wrath (and the hate) of a Aeon shipper. So, now that it has been said, enjoy the story.

Green-Eyed Monster - Carlos Oliveira x Reader

You could feel it eyes upon you. That green-eyed monster staring at you with a mocking smile, slowly poking you towards an overwhelming anger that you know would soon lash out at your boyfriend who couldn’t seem to notice your gritted teeth and clenched jaw as he was talking about the ‘fabulous’ ‘supercop,’ Jill Valentine, for the umpteenth time. That little monster had been your companion for days, ever since Carlos had renewed contact with his ‘old friend’. And truth to be told, it was not the kind of company that you liked most. It was permanently clenching your stomach with his claws, filling it with a disgusting nausea you didn’t know how to get rid off, and whispering terrible ideas and thoughts in your ear. But that’s Jealousy right? That sickening fear that someone will take whom you love most away from you. That foul worry that you might not be good enough in the eyes of your loved one. That panic that someone might take your place. But what if your place had already been taken? What if you had already been replaced? What if Jill had already stolen Carlos from you? What if … what if all your fears had already happened?

“Is something going on between you and Jill?” You realised what you had just said a couple of seconds after saying them, as if your words had been quicker that your thoughts, as if the little green-eyed monster had taken possession of you and turned you into the mere spectator of the incoming argument. That’s not what you wanted to say. Or was it? Carlos lost his smile as he seemed to gauge your feelings through his astonished brown eyes, wondering at the same time if he had really heard your silly question. “What did you say?” You did not reply and simply stared at him with cold blankness in your eyes, waiting for him to say something. “Are you asking me if I’m cheating on you?” He was vexed, almost angry. You could tell it by the way his sudden gravitas was making his voice sound deeper than usual. But he was also hurt, deeply hurt. You only had to listen to the almost-unnoticeable shakiness and slowness of his words. “Are you?” Two words. One accusation. But enough to make everything blow to smithereens.

“You can’t be serious.” His eyes widened as he put his cutlery on the table, perfectly aware that he would not finish his meal tonight. Your accusations were enough to digest. “Honestly Carlos, I wish I was joking.” Your composure contrasted sharply with Carlos’ astonishment. He scoffed, refusing to believe you were bluntly accusing him of promiscuity. “Do you really believe I could do that to you? And with Jill?” That name made you slightly shiver and clench your fists on the table. Carlos noticed and he took great offence at your reaction. “Oh come on! We just took a couple of beers together, Y/N!” “Yeah. Yeah, a couple of beers.” You repeated with a sarcastic smile as you stood up to clear your plate, which was a mere way to end the discussion as soon as possible. “You don’t believe me.” No indeed, you did not believe him. You believed the little monster on your shoulder laughing at you. “How uncharacteristically perceptive of you.” As much as Carlos loved you wit and sarcasm, he hated when you were acting that way. It had a knack for getting on his nerves in spite of his incredible sweetness and patience. “Jill is a friend. We survived Raccoon City together.” “That must forge links, I guess.” You declared as you threw your meal in the trash. “Nothing happened and nothing’s happening.” He harrumphed, raising his tone slowly while he gestured you to stop with your nonsense already. “But you wished it did.” That was not a question. That was a direct affirmation that was as sharp a knife and that Carlos couldn’t deny. And it stabbed all the trust you and he had placed in your couple. “It was a long time ago.” He tried to justify himself but you wouldn’t hear what was to you pathetic excuses. “She never wanted me. Everything remained strictly platonic. And then we went on separate ways.” You nodded though you were not convinced, too focused on the little monster whispering ‘lies, lies, lies’ in your ear. “And now she’s back and everything you can talk about is her. Jill is amazing. That supercop, you should see how she beat the shit of that Nemesis.”

Carlos sighed, getting tired of your jealousy as his legs were fidgeting under the table. He had no reason to blame himself. He was faithful. Always had been. But he sure as hell had also no reason to silently accept your false accusations. “You’re ridiculous.” He mocked. “I’m ridiculous?” You harrumphed with a forced laugh. “You should see yourself and your heart eyes every time you say her name… God, it’s making me sick.” You turned your back on him, unable to look at him in the eyes, and furiously grabbed the sponge to wash the dishes. “Okay, now you’re acting crazy.” Carlos spat and you dropped your plate in the sink, offended by his words. You were not crazy. You knew what you had seen. Your boyfriend’s smile every time he would mention Jill, that spark shining in his eyes every time he would talk about her and her heroism, and more especially him leaving in the evening to have a drink with her, all dolled up and excited, only to come back in the middle of the night, reeking of sweat and alcohol. Sweat, really? You know they had sex, don’t you? The green-eyed monster murmured.

“Why don’t you just admit that you’re fucking her? So we can properly fight about what’s really going on.” You demanded. “Because that’s not true!” He half-shouted. “I’m not fucking Jill. How else can I say it so that you can finally understand?” His gestures were wild and frantic and punctuating his words, showing how pissed he was. The Hispanic blood taking over certainly. “Oh so now I’m stupid? Fantastic.” You humoured and Carlos bumped his fist against the wooden table as he stood up to assert himself. “What is it that you don’t understand?! Goodness! You’re insufferable.” He growled but you didn’t lose your spunk and chose to stand by your opinions despite how impressive Carlos was when he was angry. “Then maybe you should go find Jill. I’m sure her presence must be more pleasant than mine.” “You know what? Maybe I will.”

Exhausted by your childishness, Carlos exited the kitchen to go and grab his jacket by the main door of your cosy little apartment, definitely decided to leave the place and put an end to this stupid argument. “Fine.” You screamed as you followed him. No way you would let him have the last word. “And maybe I will fuck her too so that you’ll finally blame me for something I did.” He pointed a finger at you, looking at you straight in the eye. He didn’t mean that but he was so furious right now he just wanted to hurt you as much as you were hurting him with your lack of trust and your awful accusations. “Go ahead! Enjoy!” You waved towards the door, welcoming him to pack up and leave though you secretly wanted him to stay. “Oh I certainly will. Cause I’m sick of sharing my bed with a insecure paranoid like you!” The rebuke hurt. You couldn’t hide it and you resisted the urge to push Carlos out of your apartment. “You know what the insecure paranoid has to say?” You shouted and Carlos slammed the door behind him. “Fuck you!” You yelled, hoping he would here that from the corridor.

You roared, fingers tangled in your hair, furious and more especially pained. But it took you quite an instant to allow your suffering to truly settle as you were still somewhat holding up to the hope that you boyfriend would change his mind and come back to you. It took you the humming of Carlos’ bike in the street slowly fading away as he probably was riding right towards Jill’s arms.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Curled up on the sofa with your little green-eyed monster and his new blue friend he introduced as Guilt. And Guilt was as bad as Jealousy, perhaps even more painful. Guilt was the one murmuring all the regrets and remorse he could imagine. Guilt was the one that could tear your heart off your chest and tell you that it was your fault. Guilt was an ugly son of a bitch.

Carlos only came back early in the morning, around 5 or 6 am, with dark circles under his brown eyes, dishevelled hair and an exhausted slow gait. You watched him sit in silence on the couch next to you and take a deep breath. He wanted to say something. He just didn’t know how to say it. You chose not to pressure him and remained still by his side, legs bent against your chest, puffy eyes staring at him. “I was with Jill.” The confession twisted your stomach in a painful knot and you felt yourself unable to breathe anymore as if your lungs didn’t know how to function anymore. But this time it was not the little green-eyed monster that was causing you this suffering. That was Guilt. “ We talked a lot… about you mostly.” You listened carefully, aware there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say that would make things better now. “She’s the one who convinced me to come back. She helped try seeing things from your point of view. I understand why you got jealous. I guess if I had heard you talking about a guy the same way I was talking about Jill, I would have got jealous as well. But what I don’t get is how you could actually believe I would be able to cheat on you.” The pressure in your body slowly relaxed when you realised that Carlos did not want another argument but merely a calm explanation, something you should have had from the very beginning instead of bawling at each other. “I don’t know. I guess I was really an insecure paranoid after all.” Carlos briefly chuckled when he spotted your faint smile. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I was a jerk and …” You placed a hand on his thigh to cut him short. “No. You were right. And you don’t need to apologize for anything. If anything, I’m the one who should apologize. I was the unreasonable one in this story. I let jealousy get the better of me when I should have listened to you and trusted you. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.” You promised as you looked him in the eye and Carlos smiled so softly it made your heart melt. How much you had feared not to be able to see that smile again after what happened. “Good. I hate when we fight.” Carlos said as grabbed your hand in his and pressed his forehead against yours. “I hate when we fight too.” You pressed your lips against his, desiring that healing kiss more than anything right now. And it did heal you. And it made the monsters go away. All was fine now.

#Carlos Oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #one shot #resident evil #resident evil 3 #re3 remake

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twc-thoughts-you-didnt-ask-for · 4 years

Text

Bundle -Mason-

Working on a series of one-shots of M!UB holding their first child, this is the second part. As an FYI, I will not be having baby names in these because… well because I never thought of any lol

This is inspired by the ask Sera got for if UB could hear the baby’s heartbeat

Would love to hear any feedback you may have :)

Read Adam’s here

Mason squeezed his eyes closed as if that would dim the sound of Dinah’s screams in the room he sat on the floor outside of.

They tried to get him to wait on the other side of the building with the rest of his unit, but he refused. They told him he was a risk to her and the baby if he lost control. It was absurd. Annoying. Insulting.

Smart.

But Mason refused to leave and he would like to see someone try and get him to. He agreed to not be in the room, but he needed as close to that as he could. Women die in childbirth. Complications happened. Hard calls have to be made.

He’d be damned if he stayed as far away as the agency would like knowing all that. If something were to happen to Dinah, he would be there to do whatever it took to keep her alive. To keep her with him. He didn’t care what the agency had to say when it came to her.

He let the sounds of her screams settle into guilt... as it always did when she was met with any discomfort. This was all his fault. She would laugh at him every time, saying that it took two to tango and they happened to tango a lot. But he had a lot of guilt about... all of it.

Mason remembers when he started to pick up on something being off. Dinah didn’t have a “liar” setting. She would look at him so often, her heart racing and not in the way he liked. She would be quiet, distant. It was like being with an ice figure and Mason wasn’t accustomed to that with her. She was always so happy, so cheery, so... everything he wasn’t. Everything he was shocked to find he adored.

When the truth of it came to light he... didn’t react well. At all. He rarely felt shameful, but there was no other way to feel when he reflected on it.

They were surrounded by people all the time at the agency or at the station, signs of the living all around. It was only when he was walking the detective home one night, taking the scenic route as they had before, that he stopped dead in his tracks.

He heard the soft beating that followed Dinah everywhere.

“Mason?” he heard her ask as she turned to him.

At least he thought he heard her. He wasn’t sure. He kind of felt like passing out.

“Are you pregnant?”

“What? I-”

“Are you?” he asked a second time, breathlessly.

“Yes.” she responded, the weight of the truth she’d been hiding in each word.

No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. They had been careful, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they? The life they lived, the jobs they had, he struggled with guaranteeing her safety, let alone a child.

No, no, no, no, no.

The weight of both their lives felt like a cement block around his ankle and he was swimming in the river with it.

Warm, familiar hands wrapped around his forearms, bringing him back to the here and now. Dark green eyes looked at his in the comforting way they always had.

“I was going to tell you, okay? I just... was trying to figure out the right way how to. I... I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to lie. I know this is a surprise, I was surprised to but... I’m keeping it. I want it.”

He was barely listening.

He took her hands in his, something he rarely did. “I need to go. I need time. I need-”

“It’s okay. I understand.” she said.

Reading her eyes he could see she understand in the warm ways that she always had... but he could also see the the warm hope she had that everything would maybe go the way she wanted. Everything would be okay. It was the same exact look she had in her eyes when early in their relationship she knew what they were but hoped he would see them as more.

And he left.

Mason spent a quiet night in the middle of no where stargazing, the only disturbances being Nate blowing up his phone. Mason did what he could to quell the mother hen of a man. Nate, of course, knew of Dinah’s condition, they were close. She had confided in Nate, as her closest friend in UB, not only for her own panic but how to ease Mason’s. She knew Nate would support her immediately... as Mason should have. That Nate would be excited for her... as Mason should have.

It made him sick with regret and guilt. With an odd type of jealousy that he couldn’t be anyone but who he was.

Mason returned the next day. He couldn’t very well disappear for days and he wouldn’t want to do that to Dinah. It wouldn’t be good for her... for them. He wished he could convey everything he thought to her in pretty words the way Nate would. He wish he could roll with the punches and take responsibility the way Adam would. He wish he could be excited with Dinah the way Felix would be.

He would try to accustom himself to the idea of them instead of just her. His best try.

But he couldn’t change who he was and he knows Dinah would never ask it of him. Despite all odds, she stood by him and fell in love with him. He would stand by her the only way he knew how to... which was just to make sure he was there and that she was taken care of and okay. That they were he reminded himself. They.

And so they pregnancy went. Dinah continued working, Dinah and Tina would squawk about how excited they were to do all kinds of activities with a baby, Felix and Nate would jump in sometimes, Adam would insist that the heighten their attempts to protect the detective, Dinah would be ill in the mornings (the smell making Mason ill in solidarity), when her feet would swell and ache Mason would use his talented fingers to ease it away, and so on and so forth. Until today.

A shout and a baby’s cry brought Mason back to the here and now and he could have toppled over in pain with all of the smells and noises assaulting him.

But then it was silent.

Panic set in.

To hell with the plan to wait for Elidor. Mason would deal with the repercussions to his actions later.

Mason burst into the room, in the back of his mind hoping that the door hinges stayed in tact, and couldn’t care about anything else in the room but Dinah. The only love he’s ever known.

She’s was clammy, deathly pale, her eyes were closed, her blood on the bedding, blood on the floor, and... oh, god, he couldn’t tell if she was even breathing with all the noise in the room. Where was her heartbeat, where was her heartbeat, where was-

“Specialist agen-”

“Leave him be. If he were going to kill her, he would have by now. Mason, she’s fine. Just exhausted. Everything went well and I would like for you not to cause a scene.” Elidor said to him calmly as he dealing with something.

No, not something. The child. Their child.

He would leave them to it. He would be of no help there.

He moved Dinah’s sweat-soaked hair out of her face, his hand cupping her cheek to try and put some warmth back into it. He wanted her to open her eyes and look at him the way she always did. He wanted to say something not at all appropriate to get her skin to turn pink in the way he had adored. He wanted to pretend that her body were never burdened with anything.

A nurse appeared at his side and he stiffened. Wanted her to get away from Dinah... but he saw her hold a bundle of blankets in her hands. A moving bundle.

“Would you like to hold your daughter?” she asked with an expectant smile.

“No.” he answered harsher than he meant to. “I... I’ve never held a kid before I wouldn’t know how to.”

With a cheery “I’ll show you!” he was quickly the one now holding the child. His child. His daughter.

And it was one of the few things in his lifetimes that made him want to cry. He wondered how he entered this room and couldn’t care less about her. How he went nine months treating her like some kind of parasite.

He never wanted this. Any of this. He never wanted to be on human protecting duty, he never wanted to have confusing emotions for the detective, he never wanted to be in love, he never wanted a child, but now that he had all of that... well, it made him weak in the knees with emotion. This enviable life he had. These blessings bestowed upon him.

It was more than a man, mortal or not, could take.

The baby had tufts of Mason’s hair, the detective’s milky skin, and splattered on that skin were a myriad of freckles just like Mason’s. He wanted to know what kind of eyes she had, what type of sounds she’d make, he wanted... he shocked himself in all the things he wanted.

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to critique the child I just spent nine months making and hours trying to push out.” he heard Dinah say, now awake again.

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to... she’s...” he choked on however he was going to finish that sentence.

Looking at Dinah, the shock was plain for him to see. It annoyed him a little, but he shouldn’t be surprised. This was not who he was ten minutes ago. Everything had changed.

Mason stood with the baby, enamored by her really, while the room was cleaned up and the sheets changed. Dinah was helped into the bathroom where she had to put on a funny little diaper, but Mason valiantly fought the urge to poke fun or comment.

Once all was settled, Dinah laid back down, exhaustion still apparent on her face no matter how she tried to cover it, and patted the spot in the hospital bed where there was enough room for Mason.

“Let me have a turn with the baby, you’re hogging all the fun.”

Mason delicately handed his daughter over to her like she were the most expensive porcelain doll money could by. He was surprised by the reluctance he felt in the act.

Slowly he eased himself into the bed with her, wrapping himself around her in any way he could. Reveling in the two heartbeats he knew so well. That everything was okay. That everyone was healthy. That this life was his.

Peppering kisses over the detective’s neck, he allowed the detective to grab his hand and drag it towards their child where tiny fingers wrapped around his large one. Mason lost himself in the moment. He didn’t know sounds, smells, sights.

He only knew contentment.

Tranquility.

Change.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #twc mason #twc #twc fanfic #the wayhaven chronicles mason

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dejayoonw · 4 years

Text

hold tight , jjk

part 5 | make it up

word count: 4.3k

warnings: jealousy, mentions of drugs, dirty talk, praise, pet names(baby girl, little girl, pretty girl, she calls him daddy), jk has a big dick, oral (m receiving), deep throating, face fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spanking, finger sucking, like one (1) pussy slap, he cums in her mouth

a/n: this is part five of my social media au hold tight & will probably make most sense if read along with the rest of the au.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late do we?” tugging your best friend's hand towards the door you wondered how Jungkook would react if you were to be a little late to the wedding, would you get to see him annoyed like the first time you met him just before he recognized you? You hoped you’d get to see that side of him again, liking it more than you cared to admit. Pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind you got into the passenger seat of Tae’s Bentley, it was his proudest possession to date. You were happy that your best friend's hard work had paid off enough that he could afford something like this, plus for the two of you to live in an upscale apartment. Of course the two of you shared the rent on the place but still, you were proud of him for being so successful while doing something he loved.

Pulling up to the wedding venue you smiled to yourself as Tae pulled into the parking space next to Jungkook's car. Your smile was soon wiped off your face the second Jungkook stepped out of his car. He was wearing tight black pants that accentuated his thighs with a button up shirt tucked in, two of the top buttons undone to show off a little bit of his chest. The only disappointment was one of your favorite parts about him, his arms littered with tattoos, had been covered by his sleeves. And yet, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed, not when he looked this good. You will yourself to stop gawking at the boy, letting your eyes meet his only to see him already looking back at you with an uncharacteristically smug look on his face. You couldn’t care less that you’d been caught, in fact you were glad he’d seen you. You threw a wink his way and turned to your friend, taking the camera he’d lent you to use for the job out of his hands. Poor Tae was doing his best to ignore his best friend eye fucking the guy he’d hired, he found himself wishing more and more that Hoseok had been available.

Throughout the wedding you made sure to focus on the job, as much as you wanted to flirt with the pretty man in the oh so tight jeans you didn’t want to mess things up for Taehyung. So you kept to your section of the venue and did as you’d been instructed. The ceremony surprisingly seemed to go by quickly though the reception was lasting a lot longer than you’d expected. You weren’t sure how many people kept the photographers around throughout the whole reception but you guessed if you had a rich daddy to pay for everything you might do the same. Just as you were about to take the fortieth picture of the bride's grandmother doing shots with yet another man in his twenties you heard your name being called.

“The groom said they’re about to move the party to one of his friends' houses, it’s just their friends. He invited us.” Taehyung told you quietly so no one would overhear. Jungkook stood next to him though his eyes were anywhere else but on you or Tae.

“So they want us to take pictures of their friends doing coke and getting fucked up?” You mumbled not exactly excited about the extra work. Jungkook snorted at your response, you couldn’t help but smile a bit, feeling proud.

“No they want us to come get fucked up with them. Or, at least I don’t think that they’re planning on doing drugs.” Taehyung seemed to be questioning whether he should even go now, worried you might be right.

“Look at them Taehyung, of course they're going to do drugs. Why should that stop us from partying like Belford? We can be The Wolves of Walmart.” Taehyung shook his head at your ridiculous joke, especially considering you probably had just as much money as any of them, but chuckled nonetheless. How the two of you had even stayed so close into your adulthood was honestly something you both wondered everyday. You two were so different. Where he worried about things like drugs and shied away from anything overly sexual you didn’t bat an eye to it. You weren’t necessarily into coke or anything hardcore like that, but you’d smoked your fair share of weed in your lifetime.

“We’ll go if you want to but if anyone offers me a line I’m leaving.” Tae said, shuddering slightly at the thought. You smiled up at your soft hearted best friend finding his caution endearing. This was why you’d been able to stay close, because the differences the two of you had always seemed to be nothing in comparison to the adoration you held for each other, platonically of course. Once upon a time you might’ve harbored a crush for your introverted, modest friend but then he came out to you in tenth grade and you quickly got over those feelings. Besides, you were more into the bad boy type anyways.

“Are you coming too, Jungkookie?” You asked looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyes opening just a little wider. How could Jungkook say no to you when you looked at him like that? As much as your relentless teasing made him feel like he might have an aneurysm, he couldn’t resist spending more time with you. It felt weird not having you messing with him today, so maybe you’d talk to him at the party. This was probably the last time you’d see each other anyways, he should make it count.

“I’ll go for a bit.” The cute little smile that took over your face was enough to rid Jungkook of any second thoughts he might’ve had. Jungkook saw you as this powerful intimidatingly sexy woman who somehow still emitted the cutest energy. How would he ever survive tonight with you switching back and forth so drastically?

It didn’t seem to be a concern once the three of you got to the party. Ever since you walked through the door you’d been swarmed by multiple people. It was one after the other, even if Jungkook had worked up the courage to talk to you he’d never get the chance to. So he sulked on the couch, squished in between a couple engulfing each other and the arm of the couch. He’d lost Taehyung a while ago, though Jungkook figured he’d found someone for himself.

You loved your viewers, well most of them, there were definitely a few on the weirder side that occasionally took things too far, but overall you loved them, you were so thankful to them. It was times like these though, that you wished your job wasn’t so public. You’d been stuck in the same spot for the last hour, person after person had come up to you to ask if you were Honey from onlyfans. You hated that you sounded so snobby in your head but you really just wanted to talk with people normally tonight, you were there to have fun after all. Not that talking with your viewers wasn’t fun, you just really wished it didn’t feel like work sometimes. You’d zoned out on the guy next to you who had been telling you all of his favorite videos of yours in great detail. Your eyes found Jungkook across the room, a strong pout on his lips as he played on his phone. You tilted your head slightly wondering what had him so upset and why he wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Yuta, dude, leave that poor girl alone. Sorry Honey, he doesn’t know how to shut up sometimes.” One of the girls, who’d earlier introduced herself to you as Sorn, said trying to save you from her friend. Honestly Yuta wasn’t bothering you, it was just that he’d been rambling for the last 10 minutes and you would much rather be figuring out what’s going on with Jungkook right now. You smiled over at Sorn silently thanking her.

“It’s no problem, I think it’s sweet that you enjoy my content so much Yuta. I do think I'm going to go check on my friend though, again, it was nice talking to both of you.” You said, smiling sweetly at Yuta while winking at both of them before making your escape to Jungkook. You say yourself on the arm of the couch he was sitting on, catching his attention right away. You couldn’t help but notice the annoyed look on his face when he looked up at you.

“Why are you pouting over here all by yourself?” You asked him trying not to laugh at how obvious it was that he was struggling not to look at your legs that you’d draped over his own.

“Not all of us have a fan club everywhere we go to keep us entertained.” Jungkooks sharp tone had caught you off guard and shamefully sent a wave of head down to the pit of your stomach, but maybe that was the drink you’d been nursing since you’d gotten here. You weren’t sure why you found yourself wanting to make it up to Jungkook, you hadn’t done anything wrong. It’s not like the two of you came together or anything. Yet here you were, giving him your best apologetic eyes, with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Jungkookie, I didn’t mean to make you jealous.” You said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t think you were still teasing him. Jungkook didn’t know where this shift in attitude came from but he could swear he’d seen this look somewhere before.

“I’m not jealous, what do I have to be jealous over?” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or you but it was clear neither of you were buying it. You didn’t push it though, you didn’t know why you felt so compelled to make things right with him. Maybe it was just instinct because you were admittedly attracted to him and you tend to submit to the people in your life who you connected with physically.

“But still, we’re friends and I let you sit over here alone while I talked to a bunch of people. I should’ve stayed with you. Let me make it up to you?” There was no way in hell Jungkook was reading this right. You were sat with your legs draped across his lap, your fingertips grazing his shoulder and every so often they’d brush his neck just slightly, but there was no way you were saying what he thinks you’re saying.

“What, um, what do you mean?” He asked, avoiding your intense gaze.

“Anything you want, name it and I’ll do it.” How was this happening? Jungkook had to be reading it wrong. But, what else could you mean? His mind was racing so fast, he felt himself freaking out. Before he even thought about it Jungkook was mumbling something about finding a bathroom and stumbling off away from you. Jungkook wasn’t even sure how he found the bathroom, but all he knew is he needed water, now.

Splashing some of the water onto his face Jungkook attempted to calm himself down. Why had he gotten so freaked out? This wasn’t like him, normally he was good at getting people he was interested in, man or woman. Why did you make him so nervous? Just because he’d seen you naked before didn’t mean you’re any different from the people he’d slept with before. Except you were, he hadn’t slept with you. He’d just seen some pictures and maybe a video or two(or fifty) of you. He’d fantasized about you without even knowing you and now he knew you, kind of. He felt creepy. Why did he though? You posted that stuff for people like him to look at, you made it clear that you knew he’d seen your stuff and you didn’t act like you felt weird about it. In fact, you acted like you liked it. So why was he hiding in the bathroom? You’d basically just offered to fulfill all the fantasies he’d had about you. He had never been one to run from that kind of offer before, at least not from someone as beautiful as you.

The more Jungkook thought the more he hated himself from most likely missing his chance with you. How many of your viewers could say they’d had this opportunity? He didn’t know, but the answer was none. You’d made it a rule a long time ago not to sleep with any of your viewers. There was just something about Jungkook, which is why you’d made your way outside the bathroom to apologize for freaking him out. You weren’t sure why you thought he’d wanted to sleep with you in the first place. Sure you knew he’d seen your stuff online but that didn’t mean anything. Jungkook didn’t see you at first when he opened the door but when you’d called out his name he was glad to see you.

“I’m sorry I forced myself on you like that, I think I just read the signs wrong. I got carried away because I think you’re really attractive and, I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You kept your eyes on your hands folded in front of you. You had this pitiful look on your face like you were ashamed of yourself. Jungkook was disgusted with how hot he found it. Why did literally everything about you turn him on? More importantly why hadn’t he jumped at the opportunity to act on it when he first noticed that you were willing. Yoongi would’ve called Jungkook a little bitch if he’d seen the way he’d been acting around you.

“Shut up and get in the bathroom.” Your eyes went wide as you checked to make sure it was actually Jungkook’s mouth those words came out of. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the stern look on his face. Where had this come from? Where had he been hiding this side? You knew if you walked in that bathroom you’d be getting exactly what you’d silently(and not so silently) been begging for since you met Jungkook. He didn’t want to push you, but he couldn’t deny the excitement he felt when you rushed past him into the bathroom.

“If you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.” You told Jungkook when he shut the two of you in the small bathroom. You wanted to give him the opportunity to leave before anything happened. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured.

“I can assure you babygirl, I want nothing more than to show you just how much I want this.” Before you could process his words Jungkook's lips were on yours, kissing you like a man starved. His lips were soft and he wasted no time being gentle, sliding his hands in your hair and tugging your head back further to give him better access as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Then, before you could get used to the feeling of his mouth on yours, his lips left yours and attacked the skin on your neck. Sucking, nibbling, and licking as he tried to find your sweet spot. Your fingers were desperate to cling onto something, moving from his back up to the base of his neck you raked your fingers through his hair as his mouth worked wonders on your neck. You were a whimpering mess as he left little marks all over your neck. Jungkook smiled at the sweet sounds leaving your lips, feeling proud of himself for getting this kind of reaction without even really doing anything. You could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties and you ached for some kind of relief. You involuntarily pushed your hips into his, feeling his already forming bulge causing both of you to moan at the sudden contact.

“You better keep your hands to yourself if you want this to go well for you, little girl.” You had to stop yourself from moaning out loud at his words. Jungkooks grip on your hips was tight enough that you’d probably bruise but all you could feel was pleasure.

“Kookie please,” You begged, dropping down to your knees in front of him, taking his large hands in yours. “wanna make it up to you.”

You wouldn’t continue without his explicit permission, so you gazed up at him with wide eyes. How could Jungkook say no when the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen was on her knees in front of him begging to suck his cock?

“Go ahead baby girl, show me what that pretty mouth can do.” He said letting his hand fall to the back of your head gently. His cock was practically screaming to be let out of the tight confidments of his jeans. As you cautiously undid the zipper and button and pulled both his jeans and his underwear down at once Jungkook let out a soft noise at the relief. You gawked at his size, he was probably the biggest you’d ever had, prettiest too. Your mouth was watering at the sight, he was perfect.

Looking up at him you were stunned again by the beauty that is Jeon Jungkook. Staring down at you with his mouth agape he brought his hand to your jaw, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip. Keeping your gaze locked with his you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out just slightly, licking at the pad of his thumb. Jungkook groaned slightly as he finally guided his cock into your mouth, watching you close your lips around the head and started slowly bobbing your head up and down his shaft. You began to use your tongue as you quickened your pace. Jungkook was mostly silent but you could tell he was enjoying himself when he tightened his grip on your hair every time you took him deeper.

You began to use your hands a bit, causing a moan to leave his lips at the feeling. You then took his cock deeper, finally making him buck his hips forward, hitting the back of your throat. Rolling your eyes back you pushed your head down further on his cock hoping he’d get the hint. Thankfully he did, tangling his hand in your hair to hold your head still, he bucked his hips again, harder this time, shoving his cock even farther than before. He repeated the motion, fucking your face until you had to tap out.

Pulling off of his dick with a pop, you were gasping for air, your chin covered in saliva and your hair was a mess, you looked perfect. Quickly Jungkook pulled you up by your arms needing to feel your lips on his again. Your pretty little hands snaked their way up Jungkook's shirt, feeling his abs as he kissed you. How that simple action affected him so much Jungkook didn’t know, but he did know he was in for it. Sex before didn’t come close to how it felt with you and he hadn’t even fucked you yet, how was he ever supposed to have sex again with a random girl knowing it could be this good with you?

You lightly traced Jungkook’s abs letting your hand slowly fall down to his cock, pumping it in hopes of getting what you wanted. Jungkook kissed you a little harder making you moan and rub your thighs together for some relief. Needing to feel you Jungkook pulled your hand off him and roughly turned you around, pushing you against the bathroom counter. You whined at the feeling of his hard cock against your ass.

“You’ve been such a good girl baby, sucking my cock so well. Feel how hard you made me?” He whispered, his raspy voice sending more heat to your dripping core. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hand cupping your clothed pussy making you whine out. “Want to be my good girl? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy?

“Please.” You begged, wanting nothing more than to be his good girl. Jungkook pulled your dress up over your ass, yanking your soaked panties down letting them fall to your ankles. His hands gripped your ass as he admired the pretty sight for a moment before he dipped one finger into your entrance almost groaning at how tight and wet you were.

“Fuck babygirl, who did this to you? You’re soaked.” He teased, adding another finger to stretch you out enough for his cock. You let your head fall forward, loving the feeling of Jungkook's fingers pumping in and out of you. Then suddenly he pulled them out and slapped your aching pussy causing you to yelp. “I asked you a question, pretty girl.”

“You did.” You whined out, pushing your ass back into Jungkook's hips, needing some relief. Thankfully he shoved both fingers back in, feeling satisfied with your answer. But he wasn’t done teasing you.

“Are you sure it’s only for me? Not all those other people you were ignoring me for?” He asked, curling his fingers up and hitting your g-spot.

“No, fuck,” You moaned as he continuously hit that spot, you were so close. “It’s only for you, daddy.”

Jungkook groaned at the nickname, he’d never cared much for it but something about the way you said it made his dick twitch. He pulled his soaked fingers from your pussy ignoring the whine you let out in protest. He spread your juices all over his cock before lining the head at your entrance. Both of you let out gasps of air and soft moans as he slid his cock into you.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” All you could manage to reply with was moans of agreement as he bottomed out. Both of you needed a moment to not cum right away. The feeling was too good. Needing him to move you ground your hips into his making him groan out a sweet sound as he gripped your hips tightly to stop you. Before you could beg him to move he had pulled back almost all the way out and slammed his hips back in forcefully. Your head fell forward as he repeated the action at a fast pace. His hands left your hips to squeeze your ass, letting one hand fall down to spank you, surely leaving a handprint.

Needing to get deeper Jungkook pulled your leg up onto the counter, gripping at your thigh tightly. You moaned at how deep he was getting now, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you were coming apart. Jungkook shushed you letting his free hand wrap around to shove two of his fingers into your mouth to silence your loud moans.

“You’re doing so good for me pretty girl but I need you to be quiet okay? We don’t want to get caught, do we?” The thought of someone catching the two of you had you clenching around Jungkook's cock, making his hips sputter for a moment. “Oh you like that idea? The thought of someone finding out what a slut you are for your daddy?”

Jungkook's hand left your thigh and immediately found your clit, rubbing at a fast pace to match the way he was pounding into you. You moaned loudly around his fingers, biting down on them lightly causing a hiss to leave his lips. Your leg that had been holding you up was starting to feel like jello but you ignored it as you came undone all over Jungkook's cock, clenching and shaking in his hands. He held out, fucking you through your orgasm until you let your leg down so you could hold youself up. Jungkook quickly pulled out ready to cum on your back until you dropped to your knees and opened your mouth wide. Moaning at the sight Jungkook let his load spill all over your tongue only getting a little bit on your lips. You kept your eyes on his as you gathered his cum on your fingers and popped them in your mouth making sure you got every last drop. After you swallowed you opened your mouth to show him, making him smile down at you, grazing your cheek with his thumb.

“Did I do good?” You asked softly, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

“You did amazing baby girl.” He told you, pulling you up to stand. He chuckled and held you still when you wobbled slightly still not fully able to stand on your own. Crouching down, Jungkook pulled your panties up your legs for you and let your dress back down.

“Thank you, daddy.” You told him, partly teasing and partly serious. He rolled his eyes and smirked at your words placing a soft kiss on your cheek. The moment was interrupted by a banging on the door, making you two jump apart.

“Yo, are you two idiots not done yet?”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #hold tight #dejayoon #bts social media au #jungkook social media au #bts au #jungkook au #bts sm au #jungkook sm au #bts fake texts

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