#so instead he’s asking for a person to be there in the darkness with him
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Meet Me Behind The Mall
Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader
Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out
Masterlist
In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.
“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.
After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”
“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.
“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.
That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.
“Where are you going, gorgeous?”
You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.
“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.
“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.
“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.
“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.
“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.
“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.
“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.
“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.
“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.
“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.
“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.
“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.
“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.
“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.
“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.
“Hey!” The man shouted.
“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”
The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.
“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.
“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.
“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.
“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”
“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.
“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.
“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.
“He is?” He asked.
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”
“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”
“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.
“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.
“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”
Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.
“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.
“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”
Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.
“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.
“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.
“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.
“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.
“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”
“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”
“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”
“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”
“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”
“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.
“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”
“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.
“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.
“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.
“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.
“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.
“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.
“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.
“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.
“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”
“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”
“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.
“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”
You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.
“See you at school?” You asked him.
“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.
“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Good night.” He called after you.
Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.
“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.
“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”
“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”
“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”
“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.
“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.
“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.
“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.
“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.
“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.
“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.
“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”
“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.
“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.
“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.
“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.
“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.
“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.
“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.
“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.
“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.
“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.
“I’m not.” He lied.
“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.
“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.
“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”
“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”
“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”
“I’m not on social media.” He told you.
“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.
“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.
“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”
“What’s weird?” He wondered.
“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.
“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.
“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.
“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.
“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.
“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.
“You right.” He mumbled.
“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”
“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”
“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was 15.”
“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.
“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”
“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”
“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”
“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”
“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.
“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.
“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.
“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.
“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.
“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.
“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.
“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.
That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.
“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.
“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.
“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.
“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.
“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”
“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.
“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.
“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”
“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.
“What?” He wondered.
“You’re talking to me.”
“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”
“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.
“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”
“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.
“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”
“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.
“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.
“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”
“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.
“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.
“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”
He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.
“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.
“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.
“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.
“They came here without you?”
“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.
“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.
“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.
“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”
“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”
“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”
“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.
“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”
“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.
“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”
“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.
“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.
“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.
“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.
“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.
“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”
Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.
“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.
“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.
“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.
“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”
“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.
“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.
“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.
“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.
“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”
“Something about me? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”
“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.
“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”
“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.
“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”
“A hot nerd?”
“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.
“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”
“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”
“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”
“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.
“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.
“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.
“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.
“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.
“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”
“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.
“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.
“So I was the first to figure it out?”
“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”
“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.
“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.
“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.
“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”
“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”
“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.
“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”
“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.
“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”
“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”
“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.
“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.
“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.
“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.
“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.
“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.
“Why red and blue?” You wondered.
“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.
“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”
“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.
“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.
When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.
“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.
“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.
“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”
“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.
“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”
“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.
“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.
“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.
“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”
“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.
“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.
“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”
“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.
“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“
“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.
“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.
“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”
“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.
“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.
“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.
“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.
“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.
You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.
“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”
“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.
“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.
“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”
“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”
“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.
“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.
“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.
Tag List
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#peter parker x reader#shy!peter parker x reader#peter parker x popular!reader#shy!peter parker#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n
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Perfect timing
What happens when your date shows up late, can drink their weight in wine and berates you for your line of work ? You end up in bed with them.
cw : Hiromi Higuruma x reader, so suggestive it's smut to me so +18, sexual tension, a lot of banter and back and forth, playing footsie
You're sitting in a haughty restaurant downtown, gaze oscillating between the dainty timepiece on your wrist and the entrance ahead. You were supposed to meet a man handpicked by Shoko, curtesy of your best friend to hopefully end your months-long dry spell and help you get out of your monotonous, work-centered life. It seemed like a nice thought when she suggested it. Seeing someone vetted by the person who knew you best was bound to be a success, right ? Wrong.
Your date's fifteen minutes late and you've already had a glass of bourbon. You wave your waiter and order another drink, and tell yourself that if that fucker’s not here by the time you down your second glass you'll just call it a night.
Fishing your phone from your purse, you busy yourself with replying to work emails, and shooting a text to Shoko to tell her that her guy is a no-show. Almost immediately, she's calling you, voice uncharacteristically high-pitched and appalled. "He didn't even bother to ask for a rain check ?", she all but shrieks, forgoing her usual bubbly greetings. You respond with a mirthless chuckle, "No, seems like he couldn't even manage that. It's okay, I'd rather be home anyway". There's a beat of silence and you hear Shoko's defeated exhale, followed by a small "sorry" and a promise to give him an earful for standing you up.
After ending the call, you divert your attention back to your drink, swirling the amber liquid in your glass before downing it in one swift motion. You check the time again. He was supposed to meet you thirty minutes ago. You're too tired to be angry, so you just slap a few bills on your table and make your way out to the exit. You're almost glad he didn't show up, you tell yourself. It means you can retreat to the comfort of your own home sooner, have a proper drink and take off the ridiculous dress you put on for a guy who won't even deign text you to postpone.
By the time you're at the exit, you've managed to find a semblance of peace, indignation simmering down to mild bitterness, but that calmness is short lived.
As you're pushing the heavy door, someone yanks it open with unexpected force, causing you to stumble forward. Instinctively, you reach out with both hands in an attempt to soften your fall, but the dreaded impact never comes. Instead a sturdy arm is looped around your waist and your face sinks in a very warm, very broad chest. You blink up at whoever caught you, torn between the urge to scream at them for being such a brute and thanking them for saving you from the embarrassment of falling face first on the cold pavement.
You can't do either when you lock eyes with your culprit, realizing just who he is. Even after only seeing him on Shoko's cracked phone screen, you can still recognise him in a heartbeat. He's taller than you'd imagined, his dark hair is mussed up and some wild strands are plastered to his forehead from the sheen of sweat coating his face. Looks like he ran here. He also looks much more tired than he did in the photos Shoko'd shown you. Haggard and disheveled. You wince at the sight of his wrinkled suit and the way his old leather briefcase can barely close around all the papers threatening to slip from it.
He looks at you without really seeing you, frenzied gaze bouncing from you to the inside of the restaurant, like he's searching for something. He lets go of you and starts gesticulating, all lanky arms and apologetic eyes, blabbering something about how he's terribly sorry, how he was in a rush because he has an appointment - well, really it's a date - and he just got out of the office, and he sprinted here because he thought he could make it, he's just twenty minutes late and –
You cut him off, stating matter-of-factly, "You're thirty minutes late, Higuruma". He stops his blabbering, his panicked stare settling on you, and – "Oh, it's you".
There's an awkward silence where you just stare at each other. So many thoughts are running in his mind, mostly how pretty you are even with your disapproving scowl and pursed lips, but none of them are appropriate so he blurts out, "Perfect timing, right ?".
You scoff, a snarky retort on your tongue, but you're cut off when Hiromi's cold palm engulfs yours and he says, pleading and earnest, "I'm sorry, okay ? My timing was slightly off but can we at least have a drink ?".
You eye him up and down, pretending to mull it over, so he adds with a wry smile, "I know you don't have anything else to do, Shoko made that abundantly clear when she called me on the way here".
"Is this your way of breaking the ice ?" you snort, trying to sound irritated but you just can't. He's too charming, and he must know it when he retorts with a mischievous gleam in his eye, "Depends, is it working ?".
It's working alright, judging from how you let him drag you to a small bar down the avenue to escape the ruckus you caused at the first establishment. The bar you end up in is much better, small but cozy, and Hiromi takes you to a secluded booth at the very back of the room. You try your very best to stay mad at him and there's a voice in the back of your mind that keeps telling you that this will never work, but it's hard to pay it any mind when he soothes your irritation with a sweet Porto and a miscellany of courtroom anecdotes that leave you both perplexed and amused.
The conversation flows surprisingly smoothly, any lull filled with Hiromi commenting on the bottle you shared.
"Are you some sort of sommelier turned lawyer ?" you quip, smiling at him over the rim of your glass. He laughs a little and shrugs, “Let’s just say it’s a lot of learning by doing”.
You quirk a brow at that, the newfound information fuelling the pestering voice in your mind. You don’t say anything though, and the silence seems to make him nervous. He waves a bony hand dismissively, feeling the need to clarify “Well, not that much learning, I guess…A normal amount ?”.
“Very convincing”, you smile knowingly. Hiromi mirrors your smile with a lopsided grin of his own, thankful for your levity but mindful of his blunder.
The realisation that your date not only is unpunctual but also has a penchant for the bottle does nothing to thaw your desire. He’s interesting, and painfully handsome, so it all evens out and your voice of caution is easily muffled once again..
“Mmh, and what sorrows are you trying to drown ?”, you ask with a raised brow.
He shrugs and makes a non-committal noise, gaze dropping to his lap when he answers, “An impressive track record of legal debacles”. His tone is strained and devoid of any humor for the first time tonight, but you still let out a little laugh to ease the tension, ignoring his suddenly sullen expression. His frown dissipates just as quickly as it appeared at the sound of your effervescent laugh.
"I can sympathise with that, caring for your clients must drain you".
He hums but is quick to divert the attention from him, pointing at the mostly empty glass in front of you, inquisitive, "What's your excuse ?". You wrinkle your nose, somehow already sensing that he wouldn’t exactly be enthralled at the prospect of listening to you bitch about how hard it is to IPO these days - Shoko did warn you about his peculiar sense of righteousness and that a money hungry little thing like you doesn't quite fit it.
“Work stuff”, you offer.
“What kind of work ?”.
“PE stuff”, you mumble around the rim of your glass, hoping he’ll let it go.
“Sorry, what was that ?”. What a nosy piece of work.
You wince but relent, “Private equity – it’s like flipping houses but with companies and it’s been good for a while - amazing value creation for our investors. I mean I’ve had a great run at it, but then –"
But then you get too into your rant and any attempt at making yourself not look morally bankrupt is quickly forgotten. He looks at you with an unreadable gleam in his eyes as he refills your glass and listens to you rambling about how the interest rate hikes have fucked you over and how the painful and teary rounds of cost cutting in your portfolio companies make you look bad but, really, it’s a necessary evil. You cut yourself off when you realize that you sound like a stuck-up, out of touch bitch but it’s too late. Hiromi just stares, appraising you silently, before stating bluntly, "So you're making bank off people's suffering ?".
You open your mouth to protest but you end up acquiescing, "Well, when you put it that way, it makes me seem like a horrible person".
"And you aren't ?" he doesn't miss a beat, but you're just as quick when you answer nonchalantly, "I'm not the best but I'm not the worst, and besides, it's not like I lay off those people, right ?". He doesn't answer and makes a noncommittal noise instead, so you add "You're making bank off people's suffering too, just in a different way".
It's quiet for a while.
He just looks at you with pursed lips and a cocked brow. The little voice in your head is louder this time, reminding you of what you already knew – it’ll never work, workaholic financier meets actual alcoholic, captious lawyer isn’t exactly the prelude to a fairy tale.
You know it but you still wait with bated breath for him to say something.
“Agree to disagree, then”, he offers with a cordial smile after downing his glass and reaching for the almost empty bottle to refill it. The polished, removed expression he puts on irks you more than it should. What’s wrong about your job, anyway ? You know it looks shitty on paper but you want to prove your worth for some reason, show him how good you are. You’re trying awfully hard for someone who thinks their date is a prick, but you have no time to dwell on it.
“I don’t think so”, you take the bottle out of his grasp and pour the remnants of Porto in your own glass. You don’t like that he’s acting benevolent, like he gets to say what’s ethical or not but that he’ll let you off the hook this time. Or you just want to rile him up, see more of him - what’s he like when he’s fighting and how much more will fighting him make you want him ?
A large gulp of wine answers the question for you. You’re definitely in a bellicose-meets-horny state of mind, and the wine-fueled daze you’re in is loosening your tongue enough to make you snap at him.
“Get off your high horse, lawyer boy ; you’re no better than me anyway”, you point an accusatory finger at him.
“Right, because ensuring that my clients get the representation they deserve is exactly the same as a Gordon Gekko* wannabe scheming to make the rich richer”, he scoffs, rolling his eyes. Ah, there it is. His bashful and boyish exterior steadily crumbles, making room for an argumentative, biting Hiromi you like even more.
“You’re not exactly crusading for the less fortunate either, Hiromi : you work in fucking big law, so please explain who’s making the rich richer now ?”, you hiss in between sips of wine, too pissed to even dwell on the frankly geriatric Wall Street reference.
You don’t miss the way his eye twitches, and you wish you could pat yourself on the back when his long fingers reach to loosen the knot of his tie, exposing more of his throat.
He waves the waiter down, asking for another bottle then turns to face you. His plump lips are stretched in a ravishing grin - half irritation, half mirth - and his fingers drum nervously against the white tablecloth.
“This is going to be a long night”, he warns.
“I’m looking forward to it”.
He was right.
It was the longest, most enjoyable outing you had in a while.The exchange of pleasantries was quickly out of the way, and small talk was forgotten in favour of heated arguments.
You’ve never seen a man so argumentative, so hell-bent on making you admit that you’re morally bankrupt, ‘the worst kind of vulture’ as he put it, a phony. His words are precise, his tone biting and everything he says are things you’ve told yourself before. The way he sees right through you drives you crazy, fuelling a maddening heat that makes your head swim and your core tighten - he’s a prick but God, how good does it feel to be called on your bullshit, to be put in your place.
You’re just as cruel to him, acute in your assessment of him despite the wine clouding your mind. You tell him that he’s hiding behind his noble lawyer persona but he still sold himself out to big law - so you and him are the same, in subtle, latent ways.
You know you are right when he purses his lips and he runs a hand through his hair nervously, his foot steadily drumming by yours. But then he smiles a little at you and you mirror it with a knowing grin of your own. He dishes it just as well as he takes it and it makes you want him so much more.
You eventually stray away from the ethics of your jobs, tacitly agreeing that you’re both sell-outs, but you still bicker about anything and everything.
The tension’s died down but there’s still static in the air and heat pooling in your stomach whenever his foot accidentally grazes yours under the table and you catch the slightest twitch in his brows at the contact. The alcohol emboldens you so you brush his foot with your own again, intentionally this time, then slide the sharp tip of your high heel up his leg. You’re rewarded when it cuts him off mid-sentence, a boyish look on his face when he stutters, but he’s quick to regain his composure.
He leans forward, chiding with no real bite, “Behave yourself, will you ?”, but you just slide your foot even higher in a fit of giggles. He dips his hand under the white tablecloth, deft fingers encircling your ankle in a barely-there touch to guide your foot in his lap, and it’s your turn to short-circuit.
His thumb traces over the strap of your heel, and you wait with bated breath for him to do more, because whetting your hunger on accidental touches and petty arguments isn’t cutting it anymore. Hiromi’s cunning gaze never leaves yours, catching the ravenous glint in your eyes. “You’re awfully quiet for once”, he observes. Casual, controlled. Your lips part but no answer comes out, and Hiromi actually laughs - a smooth baritone chuckle, like velvet crushed in an iron grip, and it’s enough for arousal to flood your senses. Fuck, you’ve never wanted a man so much.
Your honest display of neediness seems to be welcomed as he lets his hand trace the length of your bare calf, then inch up, up, up achingly slowly until he reaches the hem of your dress and you actually gasp when his large hand ghosts over your knee.
He stays there just long enough to trace patterns on your smooth skin, venturing a little higher to savour the goosebumps budding under his touch. His touch covets, featherlight but indubitably hungry, and he snakes his hand under soft silk to brush the back of his knuckles against your heated thigh.
You’re still tense under him, unsure yet ready to melt into a pliant state. He’ll get you there, he thinks to himself with a little smile. The inside of your thigh is burning when he finally pats it tenderly then sinks his fingers in your soft skin. It makes him groan and you can barely stifle a pathetic whimper. Your whole body is thrumming with ill-contained lust and you’re absentmindedly pressing your foot into his thigh, silently pleading for more.
But then he straightens back up and lets your leg fall down, trapped between his own.
Hiromi clears his throat, bringing a hand to fix his crooked tie, like nothing happened. Because, really, nothing happened - or at least, certainly not enough. He intends to remedy it though, as he slides his hand in yours to intertwine your fingers, pupilless eyes softening at the sight of your small hand fitting just right in his grasp. You barely register what he’s doing, only snapping out of your daze when he suggests,
“I think now’s the perfect time to get the bill, mh ?”
*Gordon Gekko is a character from the 1987 film Wall Street and we owe him the absolutely iconic line "Greed is good" so basically Hiromi is saying reader is a morally bankrupt corporate raider lmao
I know there is no audience for this one but I was very happy when I wrote it anyway 😊
#higuruma#higuruma hiromi#jjk higuruma#higuruma x reader#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#hiromi jjk#higuruma smut#hiromi higuruma#jjk hiromi#hiromi higuruma x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#higuruma x you#higuruma x y/n#hiromi x reader#higuruma hiromi x reader
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pet!au part 5 | ghoap x fem!reader
bath time, Bonnie
cw: overall theme of non-con, dark content, mean!simon
btw if y'all are needing someone to help proofread your stuff, @jackactuallywrites has got some great services to check out (:
Johnny lets you sleep after he’s had his fun with you.
It’s odd how easy it comes. Your throat feels battered and bruised, and your head pounds from overexertion and dehydration with such pain that you never thought you’d get any rest. You swore you’d only be able to rest once you were dead, and yet you’re out before you even realize it. Exhaustion clings to you with unwavering nails despite it all, and grants you proper rest sometime after Johnny forced you to drink a glass of water. Well, as proper of a rest as one can get in your situation.
Terrors plague you even with your eyes closed. You see a twisted fate before you, damned to relive the horrors already forced upon you, as well as those you're certain are soon to come. Just like you tried in real life, you rage against the unfairness of it all. Against the greedy hands and wet tongue. Against the blade on your skin and the fingers around your throat. And just like in real life, you fail. Even in dreams, you cannot escape the strange beast that calls himself Simon, nor his loyal pet.
When you finally wake and you're brutally forced back into consciousness, you are immediately aware of the hand resting on your head. It's heavy and firm as thick fingers gently glide along your skull. It almost feels comforting. The most comforted you have been since you were brought to that wretched place. You quickly realize that it's only a wolf in sheep's clothing when your eyes flutter open and you're met with Johnny's innocent grin.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers.
One would assume he was being sweet for whispering such a compliment to you, but you know very well that he is not. The way his cock abused your throat — and nearly your cunt — was far from kind, yet the lilt of his voice and the softness of his fingers as they wander to your cheek attempt to trick you.
You say nothing in response to him as you continue to lay there, motionless. It feels wrong to accept a compliment from a dog such as him, but he doesn’t seem to mind your silence. All Johnny is focused on is the lines of your face and the softness of your skin as he continues to caress you. He’s a different person than he was earlier. Softer, almost seeming to care. It nearly lulls you into a false sense of security until you hear water running somewhere in the house.
Your ears perk up at the sound, and you’re suddenly aware of everything. Not just the dull ache that permeates every cell in your body, but the lack of clothing on your legs, your still sticky and exposed thighs, and the booming footsteps that approach from the hallway. A heavy alarum rattles your senses, and you’re hit with that urge to run and fight again.
“It’s alright, Bonnie. It’s just Simon,” Johnny says, trying to soothe you.
It’s just Simon. He says it like you shouldn’t be afraid. As if he’s not the man who drugged you at work and brought you home to be used like a chew toy. There’s no time for you to correct him or voice your distaste before that lumbering beast is standing at the end of the bed. You want to close your eyes and pretend he isn’t there, but his presence is all consuming, and it’s not any easier to ignore when Johnny turns his attention to him with a grin.
“Did you play nice?” Simon asks.
“I did, I did what you told me, I promise,” Johnny says earnestly.
The bed shakes as he shifts positions. He’s no longer laying beside you, and instead has crawled to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees like a dog. You watch with blank eyes as Johnny’s hands rest on Simon’s chest, a pitiful display of submission. Simon stares down at him for a moment before a hand reaches for his throat before giving his collar a small tug.
“Good boy,” Simon praises.
All it takes is another tug to get Johnny’s lips onto Simon’s, and you continue to lay there while they embrace one another. It feels wrong watching them like that. Simon shouldn’t be capable of such tenderness, and still the muffled sound of their lips separating with a sharp smack rings clear. You fear that he expects the same sort of greeting from you when he pulls away from Johnny and turns his attention to you, but you very quickly realize by the darkness in his eyes that is not the case at all.
“C’mon, pet. Bath time.”
There’s a deep shame that’s been plaguing you since the moment you first woke up that morning, and it only festers when you realize there’s no easy way out of this — of any of this. Simon is very patient with you as you slowly move your beaten body out of bed, and Johnny looks at you as if he’s watching a bird attempt to fly for the first time. Your teeth creak in your mouth as you try and hide your exposed body as best as you can, but Simon doesn’t at all seem interested in you being a prude.
“This way,” he orders.
Your feet slide along the wood floor as you follow behind him like a wounded animal. Much to your surprise, Johnny stays behind back in the bedroom, almost as if he suddenly cares about your privacy despite the fact he ravaged you for hours on end not too long ago. It doesn’t matter. Cut one head off, and two more replace it, and Simon — this freak of a man — has the strength of two jaws in one being.
It isn’t until you reach the bathroom that you realize just how antiquated the house is. A beautiful porcelain tub, complete with a brass faucet, sits towards the back of the room, and though there are modern modifications and updates made with the toilet and sink, it very much still has that old charm to it. Everything is well taken care of, and completely spotless, but it still doesn’t do much to ease your mind about what’s about to happen to you.
“Shirt off. Hurry up,” Simon prompts.
Your shirt is the last piece of clothing protecting whatever dignity you have left, and you hate how easy it is for you to slip it up over your torso. Every other part of you has already been seen and explored — this feels like nothing. You don’t even mourn it as you toss it onto the floor.
A lump threatens to choke you as Simon’s hand rests against the midsection of your back, and you nearly cry out when he presses you towards the tub. Thin wisps of steam rise on the mirror-like surface of the water, and when he helps you in, it almost feels nice when it envelops you. Despite the muscle-melting warmth, you don’t feel any less tense. You’re out of your element, you’re fully aware of that, and you try to keep your teeth from chattering as you avoid his gaze.
He doesn’t speak as he retrieves a handful of toiletries from the counter before kneeling next to you by the tub. There’s no ledge for him to place them on, but he seems happy keeping them on the floor as he grabs some body wash. You almost move your hands up, expecting him to hand it to you, but he doesn’t.
You quickly realize that he means to wash you himself.
Cold gel presses against you, and you close your eyes in a pitiful attempt to pretend you’re somewhere else. Simon’s hands are firm as he begins to wash the entire length of your body. Despite the soap, it feels like he’s only ruining you; like his touch burns every inch of skin he comes into contact with. You hear him huff when he scrapes off a bit of Johnny’s dried cum off of your stomach, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a laugh or not.
“Johnny give you water today?” he suddenly asks.
The swollen flesh of your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as you ponder his question. Johnny had nearly waterboarded you with his enthusiasm earlier, trying to give you enough water to drown an elephant. In a way, it was nice as it helped to soothe the drug induced migraine that had been plaguing you all day, and still… it reminded you that you are less than human now.
You nod.
“Can’t hear you,” he bites. His hand suddenly grows tense, firmly gripping your leg as he pauses his endeavor in washing you.
“Yes!” you correct. “He did.”
He hums in response as he continues to clean you, and though you hate to admit it, he doesn’t skimp. Legs, arms, torso, underarms — he’s scrubbing everywhere. With his bare hands, which is… less than ideal, but he’s not half-assing it. It’s enough to get you to let your guard down; not that your resolve was strong to begin with. Exhaustion festers heavily within you, and all you can do is sit there and wonder why the soap you’re being cleansed with smells so familiar.
“Did he fuck you?” Simon then asks.
Learning better from a moment ago, you verbally respond with, “No.”
Simon’s hands pause for a short moment before fingers dig into your jaw. His grip is piercing and unforgiving, and it gives you no option but to look up at him as he contorts your neck backwards. The inside of your cheek digs into your teeth, and you feel your eyes begin to water with the sting.
“Look at me. Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lyin,” he explains. “Did he fuck you?”
Everything he said to Johnny that morning hits you like a tidal wave as he demands the truth you’ve already given to him. You vividly recall how he told Johnny not to have sex with you in fear that you might get pregnant. Worse, how he would have to get rid of you because of it. You remember how you begged Johnny not to fuck you as he nearly pressed his cock into you, how terrified you were to find out what getting rid of you meant.
You can’t control the way your bottom lip begins to tremble, or how a single hot tear scorches your face. There’s a pitiful attempt to shake your head that’s halted by Simon’s iron-like grip, and another firm squeeze from him finally gets you to open your mouth.
“He didn’t, he didn’t fuck me, I-I promise,” you babble. “H-He did other things, but not that, I swear!”
Simon is impossible to read as he scans your face. Drinks in the way your body trembles and wets underneath his touch. He doesn’t say if he believes you or not, but he relinquishes his grip on your face before he stands.
“Good girl.”
Simon dries you off with one of the largest towels you’ve ever seen once he’s finished cleaning you up. There’s no longer that layer of grime from sweat and cum that taints your body, but you know it’s going to take much more than plain water to wash away the shame that continues to haunt you.
Once you’re fully dry, Simon faces you towards the mirror as he stands behind you. It’s the first time you’re able to see the marks Johnny’s left on you. Several angry, fat, and dark hickeys plague your chest and breasts, and there’s several light scratches on your hips. You’ve hardly been there a day and you’re already marked to hell, as if the man had been trying to stake a claim on you.
You’re quick to learn that those silly marks are not the only claim you’ll have to bear. Quiet, metallic jingling sounds as Simon retrieves a collar out of his pocket. It’s simple, made of leather, and bears a single charm, just like Johnny’s. You try to stand as still as possible as he reaches around you and begins to fasten it around your throat — not hard enough to choke you, but firm enough to know that you shouldn’t take it off.
You avoid his gaze in the mirror as he works, and you try to look anywhere else; the floor, the counter, your clothes—
Your clothes.
A stark realization hits you as you notice the clothes on the counter. They’re folded with the utmost care, yet even through the creases you can make out that these are your clothes. The ones that had slowly been going missing in your closet throughout the last few weeks. And that scent on your skin? That body wash? It’s the same exact brand you’ve used for years. Wide eyes meet Simon once more in the mirror just as he finishes securing your latest accessory, and you swear you see him smirking. Your abduction was not done on a whim. This monster had been planning to take you for a long, long time.
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now thinking about what it would look like if reader was betrayed by simon. i just wanna feel the excrutiating pain😞😞🙏🙏
nonny u read my mind!!
simon "ghost" riley x reader
-you meet him while you're shopping for new jewelry. your father, instead of celebrating your birthday with you, sent you a stupid amount of cash with the note, "happy birthday. get yourself something you like."
-he was always away for work. what he did, you never knew. your entire life, he had always been distanced from you despite his friendly, loud demeanor. it was like he was trying to make up for his lack of emotional and physical presence with his smiles and money.
-you believed simon riley was different.
-he tapped you on the shoulder when you were birthday shopping, clearing his throat to drown the nerves as he asked you which of the two necklaces looked better.
-you smiled kindly at him and pointed to the one you thought looked better.
-"who's the lucky lady?"
-"just my mum. figured she deserved something nice and i want it to be special for her."
-you both hit it off immediately.
-his quiet, observant demeanor was a breath of fresh air compared to what you had suffered with your father. he was always listening, keeping his eyes on you, or maybe had an arm around your waist when his attention was required elsewhere.
-he was also incredibly understanding of your situation with your father.
-"i dunno. i thought about having you meet him, but he's just always so busy and it always feels like there's no point in asking him."
-"he's that busy? what's he even do?"
-"couldn't tell you. he can't even be bothered to let me know what's so important that he has to basically ignore me my entire life. i mean, i love him, but..."
-"yeah. i get it."
-eventually, your dad catches on that you're dating someone. it's during his once-a-month call that hears a simon's "ow" following a loud thud.
-when your dad finds out it's your boyfriend, he insists on meeting him.
-"need t' get to know him, is all. especially if he's gonna be my future son-in-law!"
-when you tell simon, he gives you an encouraging nudge toward agreeing. it had been almost a year that you were together, and you were still apprehensive on letting the love of your life and the vague outline of your father meet.
-"he already knows. bet he'll keep asking until you give in, so why not now?"
-your shoulders sag in defeat as you realize he's right. so, you text your dad the details of a meetup.
-simon is oddly silent the entire drive to the restaurant. you assume it's nerves. after all, you can feel your own heart beating furiously against your chest.
-when you're about three blocks away from the restaurant, he pulls over on the curb. it's a dark night and all is quiet. for a moment, you think he's about to chicken out and propose the both of you just go home.
-he leans back in his seat and unlocks the car doors. he raises his hand as a signal and utters a single phrase:
-"don't scream."
-suddenly, the door to your seat is thrown open and someone is tying your hands behind your back and your legs together. the entire time, you're pleading, tears gathering in your eyes with a confused look on your face.
-as the last knot is secured on your legs, you hear a deep voice murmuring an apologetic, "sorry. nothing personal." is that a scottish accent? "ghost, price gave the good to go. we're ready for you."
-the soldier looks into your eyes briefly, nods back at simon, and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
-you turn your gaze back to who you thought was the one.
-"simon?"
-still, he refuses to make eye contact with you. instead, he opens the glove compartment and pulls out a balaclava and mask, pulling the former over his face.
-you can't read his eyes when he finally looks over at you, his expression now covered by a skull.
-"don't try to escape. we've got someone watchin' you, so we'll know."
-"why are you doing this?" your voice is cracking, and the tears are now slowly dribbling down to your chin and onto your lap.
-he doesn't answer you, just giving you a hardened, "i'm sorry," before taking your phone from your bag and leaving you in the dark, suffocating car.
-yeah. you believed simon riley was different.
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#cod mw x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#cod angst#call of duty angst#simon riley angst#ghost angst#rarawrites
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I know it's been said before, but... I'd like to take a little time to really point out all the many ways the locals are trying their hardest to be kind to Jonathan and to help him however they can, even at risk to themselves.
The innkeeper's wife breaks her silence enough to tell him not to go, and when he won't agree, to warn him about the eve of St. George's Day and ask him to delay. When that fails too, she gives him her crucifix. That's probably her personal protection she's giving up to him.
She's not done. She tells the driver of the coach about Jonathan, and I think asks him to rush through the pass so Dracula can't pick him up tonight.
The people nearby who overhear her look at Jonathan with pity. While they don't directly try to assist here, I can't help but notice that they're on the bench "which they call by a name meaning "word-bearer"" and talking loud enough/repetitively enough that Jonathan is able to look up their words about various supernatural threats. They outright say the word for "vampire", making it the first mention in the book. If we assume they subscribe to a belief where you don't name the evil lest it come after you, that could be them trying to indirectly get him some warning.
The whole crowd try to protect Jonathan from the evil eye when he's about to set out.
That one guy pointed out God's Seat to Jonathan... maybe trying to bring his attention to something nicer, maybe some kind of religious protection? A kind gesture regardless.
The driver makes a fairly black humor joke about dogs that seems to be hinting at wolves coming after them. I wonder if he's half-expecting Dracula to send wolves to hunt them down. Regardless, even though he arrived late to pick everyone up, he pushes really really hard the whole time to try and rush them through before Jonathan would be picked up. He succeeds well enough that they're a whole hour early, even.
As it gets dark, everyone else on board also starts urging the driver to go faster, and watching out the windows for Dracula's approach. They're invested in this too.
When they enter the Borgo Pass, they all start giving Jonathan protective gifts. I suspect those were meant to keep themselves safe as they pass close by Dracula's castle, but they insist he take them all instead.
They sigh in relief at their early arrival, and not seeing Dracula. The driver does the smallest most halfhearted pretense of trying to get Jonathan there, before declaring they'd better leave now since he's not getting picked up.
They obviously can't directly oppose Dracula when he arrives, but I have to mention the guy who quotes Lenore. That's maybe stupidly open about what Dracula is but it's still pretty ballsy even if he didn't really expect the Count to hear him.
They're just... doing their absolute best to help him. I love them so much.
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Warnings: non con (if u r not comfortable don't read), mdni, violence themes, heeseung is so fucked up, explicit content, some creepy shit, stalker!heeseung
Thinking about neightbour!heeseung who has been stalking u after his first time seeing u, he just can't help it but wonder what u do, what u like, who u r hanging out with until it became a routine for him
Neightbour!heeseung who'd only greet u and ask about how r u doing as if he doesn't know what u do 24h/7
Neighbour!heeseung who had enough from watching u from afar and now wants more than that, he needs to be in ur space and what's better than ur house? He finds himself sneaking in trying everything he learned to open ur door and when he finally got in, the feeling is overwhelming as he's now able to touch ur things, smell ur scent and feel ur warmth, Heeseung is very quiet as he walks around ur house, he takes his time observing everything, learning new things about u which makes his love, His possession for u even bigger.
Neightbour!Heeseung who had been thinking about sneaking in while u r there, wondering in his head how u'll react if u ever noticed him there, the thought so thrilling for him to not do it, so he does it, opening ur door quietly when he could hear clearly ur tv on, glacing to see u sitting in ur little couch stuffing the crisps in ur mouth without having an idea that he is here with u, With u ohhh how this idea is so tempting to him, but he needs to wait, he can't make a single sound yet
Neighbour!Heeseung who is waiting for the right moment to make u his, he watches ur every move, the way u laugh, the way u speak, the way u touch urself, he is a good boy, a very good boy, waiting patiently for the right moment where ur phone rings, he knows its him, the man that always calls u, the one that takes all ur time and attention, he's not going to allow that to happen anymore, not when he's here and you'll be his, he is sure of it, so he makes his way slowly, standing in front of u, he's here now, and he is ready
Neighbour!heeseung who would play with ur hair while ur sleeping, hiding whenever u feel his touch on u, gasping where u just imagining things? U don't know how much it hurts him, he wants to make his presence clear, he wants u to feel his hands on ur hair and all over ur body, and he does, his hand slowly tracing ur neck down to ur collar bone, making u wake up to the sudden touch, the one that made u flinch, your eyes searching for the source of the touch in this darkness of the room, finding nothing in sight, the fear is taking over u and u can't help it, u need to check the house, so u get up from ur bed, trying to find the source, the feeling of being watched is taking over u, u need to find the source or else, you'll lose ur mind, he knows how scared u r, that's why he is not letting u find him, not yet, so he is staying still, he's not even breathing, he just watches u walk around searching, but no, he's not letting u find him, not before making sure u can't leave this place, the moment u reach the door, he is on u, his hands are around ur neck, his breathe is on ur neck and his voice is on ur ear
Neighbour!heeseung who would let his words sink deep into ur mind, "I'm gonna fuck you until you scream my name and pass out, until you forget about everyone but me", "took me too much to get here", "but m here now"
Neighbour!Heeseung who'd bite your neck hard enough to draw blood, the pain is something so foreign to u, but that's not what ur afraid of, its him, it's his presence, and it's the fact that u don't have any idea of what he's capable of, who is even this person that's wrapping his hands around u?, u find urself freezing not knowing what to do, ur hands shaking as u feel his hands gropping ur body, squirming to pull urself away but no, he's not letting go, instead he squeezes harder, and now ur begging, asking him to stop, his laugh is echoing around the room, the laugh that makes his hold weaker and allows u to turn, facing him, the man you see on the street, the one who is so sweet to u, the one who is a good neighbour, he is here, but his whole aura is different, u can't help it but feel ur body shivers at the creepy smile that's all over his face now after seeing ur surprised face "Baby,m finally here sorry for making u wait"
Neighbour!Heeseung who doesn't waste his time as his hand is already in ur pants, making u gasp at his touch, his finger moving up and down, his other hand grabbing the small knife in his pocket, making his way to the back of ur head, his hands gripping ur hair, his eyes piercing into yours, and his smile is wide, his teeth are showing, as he press the sharp metal on ur throat threatening u to stay still or else he'd cut u, so u did, giving in to whatever his doing to u, the moment u close ur eyes, his smile grows even bigger, his hand moves faster, the knife is getting closer, the pleasure is taking over u, it feels so good, ur moans are escaping, his eyes are locked into your every movement, studying u before his teeth sink into ur skin, the pleasure is overwhelming, u've never been in a similar situation and u can't help it but admit that it's turning u on, it feels too good, so good that u find urself cumming in his hands, your moans are louder, and ur legs are giving up on u, your body falling down but he's there to catch u, holding onto u tight, his eyes never leaving yours as his hands find their way back to ur pants, his fingers tracing the wetness, the touch so electrifying, making ur eyes roll back, ur body twitching in his hold, eyes dripping with tears as u beg him to stop and he only smile at that, his heart beating so fast at ur beautiful sight covered in tears
Neighbour!Heeseung who makes sure u know it's him and him only, that his the only one who can make u feel like this, the only one who can have you, the only one who can touch and taste and see every inch of u, he'll make sure of that, by carving his name into ur skin, the moment his done with the last letter, he's biting ur lips, making sure u'll know how much he loves and needs u, the blood is dripping from the cuts in ur lips, the pain is so sweet, and the pleasure is even sweeter, and then his kissing u, his tongue is tracing the cut, his sucking on it and his enjoying this moment, the moment he can taste u, and have u, and own u, the moment he can feel every inch of u, the moment he can have u in his hands, the moment his eyes are on u, and his touch is on u, his everything is on u and ur his "You're mine and mine only"
Neighbour!Heeseung who would make sure u won't be able to escape, that ur his, and his only, the only one who'd need, the one that will obey his every wish, he'll make sure of that, he'd make sure that ur body can't live without him, that ur addicted to him, so that his name is the only thing in ur mind, he'd make sure of that, the moment he enters ur hole, the feeling of beeing full is overwhelming, his thrusts are fast, and rough, the way his hitting ur spot over and over again, the way he's filling you up, the way his hands are all over you, the way he's gripping your body so tight, the way he's marking you, the way his nails are digging into ur skin, the way his teeth are piercing ur skin, everything was so overwhelming to u, u were sure u r losing it, ur mind so foggy and the only thing that could leave ur mouth were moans, the only word that could come out of ur mouth was his name.
Neightbour!Heeseung who kept fucking u and filling u up the whole night, not caring if u passed out or not, not caring if he was hurting you, the only thing he cared about was his needs and desires, to make sure u'll stay and what's better than for him to make sure u'd carry his kid, the only thing he wanted was you and nothing else.
Neighbour!Heeseung who'd take care of the wounds and bruises that he caused on ur body the next day, his sweetness taking u by surprise making u doubt that he was the one who caused that in the first place, his smile was so sweet, so pure, the same smile that could make his eyes disappear, and the same smile that could melt his heart.
Neighbour!heeseung is who ur stuck with,forever
-
idk wtf this is but yeah whatever
#kpop#kpop smut#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung enha#heeseung#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung#heeseung smut
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I LOVED the gitae fic it was so good😔🙏 We need part two where Maybe he feels pity for us and takes us out to eat or smth, you do the magic im bad at writing lmao 🤧
Thank uuu♡♡♡♡
A Planned Coincidence (pt. 1) (pt. 2)
“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”
summary: You’ve been stuck in the same warehouse you woke up in about three weeks ago, and no matter what plan you would make to escape— it’s no use and you’d only get in trouble. One of the times you did try with Gitae around, he had to clean up after you and the topic of your friends came up and so you begged to meet them. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned and you ended up ignoring Gitae for days. Eventually, he decided he’d take you out in hopes you’d finally speak to him.
character(s) included: Gitae Kim x fem!reader
cw: swearing, implied kidnapping, very toxic, same warnings as my first gitae fic (part 1) , yandere gitae, mentions of blood, death, kissing, suggestive, nicknames, cartel mentions, this is FICTIONAL, abuse, mentions of drugs, guns, his axe, implied cannibalism, a bunch of crimes so beware dark and possibly disturbing content
unwrapped on: Tuesday Morning, April 30 2024
wrapped up on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024
published on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024
“You tired of playin’ these stupid fucking games yet, doll?” Gitae said in an agitated tone, as he held your bruised hand and covered it in bandages. Afterwards, he planted a light kiss on top.
You remained dead silent and only looked towards the ground of the warehouse you were trapped in. You accidentally injured yourself in another one of your escape attempts, so here Gitae was, taking "care" of you once again with some condescending mockery.
“Well? Now you’re gonna go and play the quite game with me, huh?” He said with a slightly more irritated expression on his face.
“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” He said and he grabbed your chin to meet eye to eye with him, and you could tell he looked angry. He tightened his grip on your already bruised hand, causing you to yelp in pain from how much pressure was applied.
“Gitae.. I-I—, I was wondering if yo—” You were trying to speak when a few rounds of open fire suddenly interrupted you. You flinched and a visibly frightened expression was evident on your face. Gitae saw this and took you into his arms to face him, while on his lap so that he could straddle you and stroke your hair.
“Sorry about the noise, little girl. Just part of my men’s duties, I’ll let them know to keep it down though,” he said in a less irritated tone.
“Back to where we left at earlier.. Why do you keep tryna fucking escape?” He said in a slightly more raised tone.
“To leave..? Isn’t the answer to that question already kind of already a given?” You replied.
“Leave?” He scoffed, “and just where exactly would a little girl like you go? If I can recall, the friends you came to Mexico have gone missing.. And technically, you’re now known as a missing person, just like your four other friends.”
“Gitae, I hate to have to ask but— Did you have anything to do with those disappearances by chance? You’re speaking as though you know all about it and from what I’ve seen in the past few days..”
He cut you off and laughed, “did I? I thought that was already a given from when I took you here, was it not?”
“I think I get it now, I’m next.. Aren’t I?” You replied.
“What? When the hell did I ever hint something even close to that? I was talking about your little friends, they’re alive, but let me just tell you now that they won’t be for very long if you keep continuing this bullshit of trying to leave me.”
“They’re alive—? Where are they?! Can I please, pleaseee see them, pretty pleaseee??” You begged with your usual pouty face.
“It’s hard to say no when you say it like that,” he said as he held your cheeks together with his hand, “if you’re good for the rest of the day, I might consider it. How’s that for a deal, doll?”
“Deal!” You exclaimed and he tapped his cheek with his finger a few times while saying, “but first~?”
You then tried to give him a kiss on the cheek but he swiftly turned his head so that your lips would land on his instead, and it worked. Despite your situation, you turned into a blushing hot mess and Gitae simply laughed at your reaction, thinking “how cute.”
A little fast forward into that same day, the sun was finally setting, so you may finally get to see your friends again. You waited patiently in the warehouse, sat on top of some boxes, reading the books Gitae gave you to pass time while he was out doing who knows what.
Some kind of bell or alarm started to ring and from what you’ve been observing in the past three weeks, that alarm means that it’s around 8 or 9 in the evening, where most of Gitae’s “men” go out to do unspeakable acts that you’ve witnessed at some point.
Usually, This was around the time you’d try escaping the warehouse because everyone was way too busy to watch over you and most of the men there have left the warehouse, getting on some sketchy vehicles with all sorts of equipment, weaponry, and drugs. The remaining people were either asleep or high in the clouds.
But when you start to see the men leave, you’d usually start to see the second batch of men arrive with Gitae. You’ve noticed a pattern where half of the men go out with Gitae during the day and the rest of the men go out during the night and what similarity both batches shared was that they all came back bloody, smelling really odd, and sometimes Gitae would bring you what he calls a souvenir,— human flesh from one of his victims. Anytime Gitae would do that, you just ignored him for the next hour or two, depending on just how much his patience is willing to endure from you being a so called “brat.”
But, it was around 8 in the evening when the bell had rang, and now it’s past midnight. Yet you haven’t seen or heard from Gitae at all.
Reluctantly, you finally resorted to asking the men around to which they only replied with stuff like, “just give him another half hour and he’ll be here. He’s probably just ran into some trouble with a gang fight or somethin like that.”
One of the men was nice enough to give you some paper that you used to make little bookmarks for the various books you had.
Gitae usually takes you to sleep with him in one of the compartments of the warehouse that led to a bedroom, but since he wasn’t here and you had no idea on how to get in there, you fell asleep on the floor beside some boxes.
You woke up the next morning when you overheard a bunch of men who sounded like they were arguing. And weirdly enough, you were on the bed in the hidden compartment of the warehouse, with Gitae fast asleep beside you. His breathing was steady and he looked tired so you decided to just look around and take mental notes of what the room looked like. It was very different from the rest of the warehouse and was pretty cozy. Gitae’s usual leather jacket was hung on a chair nearby and you noticed some of his belongings on the table. One of which, was a gun. It had you thinking if you wanted to risk your entire life, jumping off the bed to get the gun which was on his side of the room, and shoot him blank.
But that was stupid, what about all the men outside? Gitae told you he isn’t a fan of silencers on his personal guns. They’ll definitely rush over thinking that you in fact, did something— because they all know that Gitae wouldn’t dare hurt you to such a foul extent.
So, you scratched that thought and looked at the door, where does that lead? You thought to yourself. Before you could even continue thinking as you were sat up on the bed, you heard Gitae suddenly start speaking in a raspy morning voice, “what are you up to, little girl? Shouldn’t you still be asleep in my arms?” You turned over to see Gitae, with messy morning hair, not in his usual state of a few loose strands with his hair slicked back.
“Nothing, I was jus-” You stopped for a moment when you saw Gitae sit up and reach for his gun, “doll, could you riddle me this,” he said.
You nodded in response and he spoke as he loaded his gun, “did you try to escape in any form and at any time yesterday?”
He looked you dead in the eye while readjusting compartments of his gun, you lost focus and started to stare at his hands fiddling around with the gun to which he suddenly snapped his fingers, “my eyes are up here, what did I tell you yesterday?” His eyes narrowed and you responded with, “to always look you in the eye when you speak..?”
“Correct. Now, answer.” He slowly finished prepping his gun.
“I didn’t, you could ask the men out there for proof of that.” You said.
“I already did, they told me you were finding me last night? Is that true, my pretty doll?” He said as he caressed your face.
“Well, you were taking much longer than expected to arrive.. A-and you did tell me that if I was good for the rest of the day, I’d get to meet my friends..” You said hesitantly.
“Right.. About those little friends of yours,” he spoke as he placed the gun on the table and your eyes widened, “what about them..?”
“Hoho, do you wanna find out for yourself?” He said with a smirk on his face.
“Gitae.. What do you mean..?”
“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”
“Fine then,” you replied.
Gitae stood up from the bed and so did you, it was still about 4 in the morning so it was cold outside of the bedroom, which is why Gitae put his leather jacket on you since you weren’t wearing much.
He unlocked the door with some sort of key that he took from a high shelf you couldn’t reach for yourself. Before he even swung the door open after unlocking it, he took a blindfold and placed it on you first, something that typically happens whenever you guys were going to leave the bedroom. From there he just carries you to the main open area of the warehouse to which he then takes the blindfold off once you’ve arrived around the usual boxes you stay at.
“So.. Where are they??” You asked visibly confused, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at Gitae.
“Silly girl, they aren’t here.. They’re at some other location we’ll be driving to,” he replied as he looked at one of the men who usually drove you and Gitae around. To which that man immediately left, starting up one of the cars that were outside.
“Awh, but it’s so early.. It doesn’t even look like it’s 5 in the morning, why would you suggest we go now..?” You pouted as you looked at Gitae, because of how sleepy you were he had to hold you with one of his hands to keep you from falling.
“Don’t worry, sleeping beauty— It’s a few hours to get to where they’re at, so you could just sleep on me in the meantime.” He replied as he carrier you once again and took you to the car.
He positioned you on his lap to face him and you settled your head in the crook of his neck, slowly drifting away. He gave you kisses on the top of your head and stroked your hair while you gently caressed his shoulders. You fell asleep easily and stayed in the same position.
Eventually, the car parked at some hidden area which appeared to be in a secluded part of a forest. You were still asleep when you guys arrived so Gitae started pressing kisses all over you. You started feeling ticklish from all of it and woke up.
Not even sure how you guys got here because you didn’t see a road to drive on but you didn’t question it.
“Good morning doll~ We’ve arrived, would you like to finally meet your little friends?” Gitae asked you, who was still sleepy and had woken up from a good dream, still not processing anything.
You simply nodded and clung onto Gitae’s shirtless body because you were too tired to even try getting up and walking.
Gitae carried you with ease and walked towards what appeared to be a pretty run down building, but what it specifically looked like was a blur to you because of how out of it you still were at the time.
An awful stench was evident from the exact moment you were in the building. A loud screech coming from a girl was heard all throughout the large building, echoing amongst the floors. The voice sounded a little too familiar, almost as if it were one of your friends producing a vile screech, a desperate scream for urgent help. The echo suddenly came to a stop without repeating the rest of the noise. Gitae tried to assure you that was someone else but it was no use, you were in an environment you’ve never been in before, hearing all sorts of things. You were terrified and started to both panic and cry, while you were still in Gitae’s arms. He started to get irritated with how your current state was, he even threatened to hit you if you didn’t stop screaming and crying, trying to get away from him. You ran off into some other part of the large building, hiding from him. At first, he was annoyed but decided to play your little game of hide and seek. But, couldn’t find you and so he started to punch different walls, some of which collapsed in an attempt to find you easier and to get you out.
He couldn’t take it anymore and pulled out his axe, he said that you had exactly 5 seconds to reveal yourself or this wouldn’t end well.
“This is a stupid fucking game, Y/N. 5,” he started his countdown, “4,” and you knew better than to disobey, so hesitantly “3,” you started to leave your hiding spot to reveal yourself, “2,” before he could even reach 1, you were on your knees behind him, sobbing.
“Gi-Gitae, please..” You sniffled, “I already have gotten a good idea of what you did with them, so please.. I don’t need to see it for myself.”
He scoffed, “after you just ran and hid from me? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” He grabbed you by your hair harshly and dragged you to the basement floor. And that’s where you saw another nightmare right in front of you, from the scene of the group of men who attacked you, to your own closest friends, all dead.
Except one of them, she was your closest friend in the entire group and she was completely unharmed. But had to closely witness all that was done to the other girls. She was tied up with chains and from what you know, her voice was the noise you heard earlier.
Which had you wondering, why did her screaming suddenly stop? But instead of focusing on that, you looked over to Gitae who has never looked so angry before. His grip on your hair was only becoming tighter as you tried pleading with him.
You were terrified to know that in any second, Gitae could literally crush your skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Gitae suddenly let go of the grasp he had on your hair and looked down on you, “I’m letting you know in advance that what happens next is thanks to you being such a brat.” He then struck his axe at your friend, multiple agonizing times while the one man that was there forced you to watch, holding you at gunpoint and purposely turning your head in the direction of both Gitae and your friend.
Gitae looked back at you after he struck your friend with his axe so many times that she’s no longer recognizable, you were a sobbing, pitiful, and distressed mess. You were screaming at him, begging him to stop, all the while trying to break free from the man’s harsh grip on you but it was no use and you couldn’t do anything at all.
I won’t go into too many details but it was extremely gruesome and gut wrenching. By the time Gitae finally decided he was finished, he threw the axe at your direction, purposely missing by just an inch to slightly scar your neck (since you were moving around a lot, it just barely scraped the side of your neck).
You yelped, Gitae then took a part of her flesh, and bit it— but unlike the last time, he ate this entirely and licked his fingers clean. He then spoke out “clean this place up, (insert name of man who was holding you).” To which the guy nodded and finally let go of you, you fell immediately to the ground and continued sobbing, you were twitching at this point from how terrified you were.
Gitae then looked over to you, he’s seen you upset but he’s never seen you this upset before. He looked back at the girl he had just mauled and at the other girls that were laying dead on the floor. That’s weird, he was starting to feel— bad for you?
Gitae spoke with someone on the phone and after, he carried you to the car. You never stopped sobbing and you were trembling as Gitae had you on his lap, facing his blood scattered face and body. He was trying his best to comfort you but you were ignoring him. Eventually, the car started to move and you knew this was gonna be a long ride, but you just kept on sniffing while your head was nestled in between the crook of his neck. He took the hint that you really weren’t gonna talk to him at all, so he stroked your hair with his unstained hand while you silently sobbed, clinging onto him so tightly that it left marks on his body. He also bandaged up the tiny scar you got coming from his axe.
A few days had passed and you still hadn’t spoken to Gitae no matter how many times he tried or how much he threatened you.
He was fed up, but he had an idea that might just work. He decided he’d take you out for dinner at one of the places that had gambling addicts so no staff would care. He hadn’t told you all about his plan yet but he had some guy book a reservation and he went out to buy you a little gift. You didn’t know of any of this because you couldn’t understand Spanish so you were just reading books in the corner.
He went out to buy you some clothes that he was badly hoping you’d like. He bought you more sleepwear and a cute outfit that you could wear on your little date with him. He bought some more things you mentioned you like, like some more books he knows nothing about.
He arrived back at the warehouse at around 5:30 in the evening and asked you to come with him, he blindfolded you and brought you to a bathroom. It was much nicer than the usual bathroom and you were assuming that this was another compartment of the warehouse.
He told you to shower, and you nodded in response. But, he was just standing at the doorway, staring at you. So you just stood there.
“Well?” He rose a brow, “I thought you wanted a shower, what are you doing just standing there?”
You gulped and finally spoke for the first time in days, “d-do you really.. have to watch..?”
He looked you up and down, “either I watch or join you, take your pick.” You remained silent, you didn’t want either of that.
He scoffed and put the blindfold on you once again, you could hear him fiddling with his belt and clothes rustling. After, he started to undress you as well, disposing of your clothes in the trash.
He turned on the running water in the bathtub and while it filled, he was doing some things but you couldn’t see so you had no idea. He took you into his arms and the next thing you felt was pure water, you haven’t showered in a while so this was a bliss. He took your blindfold off and to your surprise, you were on top of him in the bathtub. He gently sunk you into the water, and laid you on his figure, showering your hair with water.
He then applied different products on your hair and massaged your scalp. after he finished washing your hair and body, he started fondling around with your body.
“Your skin is so soft, doll,” he said as he played with your boobs. You lightly moaned from what he was doing and he smirked, “you like that, don’t you?” You subconsciously bucked your hips in response which caused him to twitch down there. You could feel his dick on you and he started aggressively kissing you. Things escalated and you ended up having to take a second bath.
“Doll~, I forgot to mention it because you riled me up so much earlier that I lost the chance to— butt, we’re going out tonight and I bought you some clothes.” Gitae said as he took out some unfamiliar clothes from the shelf and started to dress you while he was still in a towel.
After you were fully dressed, he smiled at you and commented, “you look adorable, just like a doll.”
Afterwards, he got dressed and was finally wearing something other than just jeans. He was wearing black pants and a formal shirt. You thought he looked handsome in his outfit so you commented, “you look handsome, Gitae,” you giggled. He chuckled and planted light kisses on the top of your head.
You guys then went out and arrived at some nice and flashy building. It was weird at first, you couldn’t possibly fathom why he would do this. Either way, you just went it.
“Well?” Gitae suddenly spoke as you were sat across from him, in a nice restaurant.
“Thank you,” you replied as you looked around the secluded spot you guys were sat at.
Gitae sighed, “still not happy?” He frowned.
You simply looked at him, pouting. To which he pouted back at you mockingly.
The food eventually arrived and Gitae wanted you to try some of his rare practically live ass steak, so he fed you some of it with his fork. You made a dissatisfied face and he laughed at your reaction. He loves the way you react to absolutely anything, he finds it adorably irresistible.
“Thank you,” you said as you were about halfway done with your meal.
“I don’t care for words, you silly little girl. How about you just show me your appreciation after dinner?” He said with a smirk.
You didn’t take the hint and so you asked, “how?”
He laughed at your response, “I’ll give you a better idea once we’re in the car, and once were back in bed, you continue wherever we left off in the car.” Your eyes narrowed until you finally understood what he meant to which you looked at him with a pout while you were chewing your food.
“What kinds of food do you like?” Gitae suddenly asked as he looked at your food then at you.
You shrugged, “I’m not really picky, but I do have my preferences and dislikes.. For instance, that steak you’re eating or any sort of steak.”
He looked at his food, “it’s delicious, how could you not like it?”
“We have wayyyy different diets, I’ve seen you eat raw meats of all sorts you bastard.”
“Awh, how am I bastard?” He pouted, but deep inside he was amused and enjoying this.
“Because of your question about food! I suddenly had a flashback about my friend, whom you took a bite of!” You said, somewhat sarcastically because you know how moody Gitae is and you didn’t want him to get angry at you again.
He just laughed, “I remember that, she tasted alright too, I should’ve had seconds.” You rolled your eyes and he was only more amused and said, “but because of your whining and puffy eyes, I had no choice but to leave as soon as I finished the job. Such a pity.”
“Hey, would it kill you to have some remorse?” You said as you picked up some meat with your fork and lifted it up to his mouth.
“I don’t really like this, but it seems like something you’d like.” You said as he was chewing what you just gave him. He would never admit it, but you feeding him made him feel something.
“It tastes good, I thought you said you weren’t a picky eater?”
“I’m not,” you said as you grabbed more of that meat on your fork and fed a bunch of it to him. He was genuinely so happy inside and his amusement turned into butterflies because for once, you weren’t scared of him and he for some reason, cared about that pretty badly.
Your guys’ dinner date went on like normal, exchanging words and actually getting to know each other.
Eventually you felt the need to use the restroom so you mustered up the courage to ask permission to go.
“Gitae,” he turned his gaze over to you and mumbled in response.
“Could I use the women’s room, please?”
Gitae looked around, “I’m trusting you don’t need me to make sure that no stupid attempts of leaving will happen?” He asked sternly.
“Yes, I promise.”
“Fine then, go ahead but don’t take too long.” You nodded in response and excused yourself from the table.
And just as you said, you did go to the women’s room. And just as you promised, you came back right after. While you were making your way back to the table, you saw that Gitae was approached by two guys who he seemed to have known from somewhere.
You got back to the table and the two men that Gitae was talking to looked over to you. They looked to have been working in the casino area of the building.
One of them turned back to Gitae and said, “I see now why a guy like you is brought to a place like this. I’m guessing she’s your girlfriend, right?” You all looked at Gitae who replied with a smile, “yes, she is.”
“Damn, you’re one lucky guy. She’s gorgeous from top to bottom!” One of the guys exclaimed as he placed his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it intensely. Gitae stared at his hand then at him.
How dare he lay his hand on something I own? He’ll pay for even daring to look at what clearly isn’t his. Gitae thought to himself.
“Well, we’ve gotta get going now.. But you two enjoy your night, especially the pretty lady over here,” one of the guys said as he stroked your hair and then proceeded to walk away.
You turned over to Gitae who looked like his veins were popping out of his skull and his aura seemed to have changed. He then looked back at you and smiled, “don’t mind them, I’ll make sure to deal with them some other time. But not tonight, tonight’s supposed to be our night.” He tried to keep his composure.
“Right.. Who were they anyway? And must they be so touchy..?”
“They’re friends with some of the people I know, but they won’t be for long.” He said as he took the final bite of his food and placed his fork down.
It’s safe to say that those two were never seen again, and the police didn’t even open an investigation about the disappearances when it happened. Soon, the news about those two guys went cold and if anything, any trace or information of them was wiped out entirely.
notes: I did more than the request and added way more before the actual dinner date because im gonna be busy in the next few weeks so idk when I can post again, and because i have a bunch of Gitae requests, I thought I might as well and this is long asf, also i’ve got another gitae fic in progress 😭😭
- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own
I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs
Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for a request, and l'Il be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request!!
#lookism#lookism fic#lookism manwha#manwha#webtoon#anime lookism#lookism anime#lookism fandom#lookism imagines#lookism webtoon#Gitae Kim#kim gitae#yandere gitae kim#gitae lookism#lookism gitae#gitae kim x reader#lookism gitae kim#lookism gitae kim x reader#lookism x reader#suggestive#lookism spoilers#webtoon lookism#manwha lookism#gitae kim x reader lookism#gitae kim lookism#foryou#foryoupage#fyp#unreleasedwrites#dark
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Let the world burn | LS2
pairing: hero!logansargeant x vigilante!fem!reader
summary: after a tragic accident, you changed your code-name and motives in a nice city, but when the media starts painting you out as some villain, the hero who ruined you comes to stop you.
logan’s hero is inspired by Artemis of Bana-Mighdall (DC) and y/ns vigilante is inspired by Jason Todd (DC).
warming: cussing, blood, gore, death, talk about drugs. this story also doesn’t truly follow the dc lore or comics, pieces are taken and made to fit the story.
part two (tba)
you wouldn’t say your life has been easy. being abandoned by your parents at a young age, trying to survive on the streets at the age of 12 after leaving the orphanage. soon being taken into a family who fight crime for a living. you became a really good sidekick for the hero you worked under.
but that all came crashing down when a notorious criminal in the city kidnapped you and tortured you, leaving you for dead, your hero mentor couldn’t save you in time.
instead of your story ending there, you were taken in from a group of assassins who basically brought you back to life, training you and making you into the person you are today.
you held onto the grudge of not being saved by the man who you looked up to, anger and resentment lingers in your blood. you decided to move on to a new city and make your own name, becoming a vigilante to the new city.
you scoff, rolling up the newspaper and throwing it into the trash. “villain? are these people fucking blind” you mutter, shoving your hands into your suits pockets as you walk down the dark streets of gotham.
the silence of the city isn’t what you’re used to, from living on the streets of metropolis to the streets of gotham, it’s a huge difference.
you hear police sirens in the background and you can see the lights about to turn the corner of the street you’re walking on. you duck into an unlit alleyway, watching the cop cars speed past you.
“warehouse on sixth..” you breath out, knowing that’s the final destination of those officers because you were just there. you took out a whole warehouse of mobsters that work, well worked, under the penguin.
you see more cop cars flooding the streets. instead of panicking since you knew no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t catch you, you climb up the side of the building to get onto the rooftops so you can watch from afar.
“didn’t think i would catch you this soon” a deep males voice rings out through the silent night. you make sure your mask is on tight before turning and seeing a young man, possibly around your age maybe a year or two older, pointing his bow and arrow at you.
“so you’re the cities golden boy i keep hearing about” your voice comes out robotically from the voice modifier in your helmet.
the unnamed man chuckles. “if you mean the man that keeps the city clean from criminals like you, then yes.”
“criminal? i’m not a criminal”
“oh you’re not? then what’s up with all the deaths that’s been happening. hero’s and criminals alike”
you roll your eyes, keeping your dominant hand on your .45 that rests on the opposite hip. “they were all corrupt.”
“Hawk wasn’t corrupted. he was my friend”
you scoff then chuckle, your chuckle echoing through the air. “oh please, that druggie was working with the Sionis Family”
“no he wasn’t.” the young hero says, never lowering his bow.
“how about you ask him oh wait..you can’t”
“why you little..” the hero pulls the arrow back.
“i wouldn’t do that. the suits made out of Kevlar, your arrows have no effect on me”
“who are you?” the hero asks, finally lowering his weapon.
“you can call me RedHood, and you’ll be seeing me around more often” you say, flicking your other hand to drop a smoke bomb.
the hero coughs from the smoke, looking around the building rooftops as the smoke clears seeing that you managed to escape.
“fuck!” logan huffs, putting his arrow back in its place on his back.
logan sits at his desk in his apartment, looking through police files and articles on every sidekick batman used to have under his wing.
“damn..how many sidekicks does one man need”
logan scrolls through the files, mumbling to himself.
“dick grayson…tim drake.. stephanie brown..wait”
logan’s eyes land on one name, y/n l/n.
“y/n l/n..pronounced dead six months ago” six months ago is when this new vigilante type person showed up in gotham.
he clicked around the computer until your picture shows up on his screen.
“Y/N L/N adopted by Batman at age 12, lived with him and trained under him. Batman says that Y/n is a feared and dangerous person but that’s what makes her such a good asset to his team. she never left a scene without causing chaos, villains feared her and didn’t wish to ever face her” the police report says.
logan sigh as he continues reading. “such a young girl..forced into a world of stopping crime..”
he keeps looking through all the files on you, collect as much information and personal details about you so next time he comes face to face with you, he can use it to his advantage.
it’s been a few days since you’ve last seen the young hero, you didn’t go out of your way to find him, you truly didn’t care. you’re only mission was to rid the streets of evil and corruption.
you’re standing on a rooftop ledge, watching the busy streets of a saturday evening, blending into the shadows with your dark suit.
“y/n l/n” that same deep males voice rings out from behind you. your body tenses, the blood in your veins running cold.
“how the fuck did you figure that out?”
“not very hard honestly, there’s a lot of police files on you.”
you finally turn around to see the young hero, still dressed in his suit but no weapon in hand. he obviously doesn’t want to fight you tonight.
“you had a hard life, abandoned by your parents, living on the streets.” he says walking closer.
your body still tense. “not everyone is blessed with a good life.”
“you’re not wrong about that.”
“you were a hero..” he speaks up once he notices you going silent.
“shit changes. i don’t regret my actions.”
logan sighs, he understands why you do what you do now.
“i want you on my side”
“what?”
“you heard me. i misunderstood you at first, but i see that we have the same goals in mind. keeping the city safe”
you scoff at his words, but the thought of having a teammate and friend crosses your mind.
“..fine, but i’m not changing myself to fit your idea of a hero”
logan chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. “that’s understandable, but you need someone like me, a well loved person in the city, to keep you from being labeled as a bad person”
“i guess you’re right..”you finally give in, lowering your guard.
logan smiles, extending his hand. “logan sargeant, nice to properly meet you.”
#f1 smau#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#logan sargeant x you#logan sargent x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#formaula one logan sargeant#logan sargeant x fem!reader#logan sargent fluff#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#logan sargeant angst#logan sargeant au#dc comics#batman#jason todd#red hood#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fic
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@jegulus-microfic | May 3: rush | 1.8k
James is in a rush to get to work, until he meets someone that makes London public transport less awful.
James is running late.
It had been a morning of little catastrophes; James slept through his alarm, his clothes were still damp from where he’d done laundry a little bit too late the day before, and Remus had drunk the last of the coffee so naturally James had to call in at the local coffee shop rather than getting it at home.
All of this to say he’s spectacularly late.
He’s got a meeting at eleven and unless some minor miracles occur and public transport actually functions for a change, he’s going to be fifteen minutes late.
He fires an email off to Lily all but begging her to cover until he gets there (she says yes, because she’s an actual literal angel and James would drop dead if he had to function a day without her) and power walks to Camden Town station, because even as late as he is, full on running is a bit too undignified.
The one small mercy of him running hideously late is that the tube station is pretty quiet – there’s only a handful of people waiting on the platform. James puts his headphones on and takes out his book, zoning out as he waits for the train to arrive.
It doesn’t take long; the Northern line is generally reliable outside of rush hour, so James finds his way into a carriage and sits down, preparing to read for the rest of his commute.
That is, until he glances around the carriage and his vision catches on the person sat opposite him.
He’s quite possibly the most attractive person James has ever laid eyes on; all dark hair and thunderstorm eyes and oh, his hands. They’re delicate and decorated in rings and gripping onto a pencil as he sketches.
James has always been a hopeless romantic; ask any one of his friends and they’ll tell you that he falls fast and hard. He’s attracted to shiny things; to pretty things, and this boy sat across from him is all of that and more.
It takes everything in him to not go and sit next to the stranger, but even he can acknowledge that it’d be a bit weird. So he completely forgets that he should be paying attention to his book and instead opts for glancing up at him every minute or so after making some vague and half-hearted attempt at reading his page for the fifth time in as many minutes.
And then James’ world shifts on its axis.
He glances at the pretty stranger to find him already looking. James offers a small smile, aborting an attempt at a wave when he’s already halfway through the motion.
The stranger laughs and it’s possibly the most gorgeous sound James has ever heard in his life. He wants to hear that sound forever. He watches as this divine creature raises his hand before mimicking his aborted move, and James is gone.
He wants to sit on this train forever and make eye contact with this angel who’s decided to grace the Northern line at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday.
The stranger breaks eye contact first, going back to whatever he’s sketching, and James wants to see those storm cloud eyes again but is equally enthralled by the graceful movements of his hand as it drags a pencil over paper.
James has always liked hands, sue him.
A few more minutes pass before James summons the courage to say something. He doesn’t know how much longer the stranger is going to be on the tube, and for all that today has been absolutely awful, he thinks, if he believed in a god, that he would believe that this was divine intervention.
He takes his headphones off, ready to give the stranger his full attention, only to realise that he’s humming under his breath. It’s liquor-smooth and James wants to drink it in forever. He doesn’t recognise the song but he doesn’t want it to end. It’s his new favourite song, he thinks.
He clears his throat and the stranger stops humming, blinking up at him. James offers a small grin again, walking over familiar ground with him. This is what strangers on the tube do; this is normal. Then he veers off course.
“What’re you humming?” he asks. The angel across the carriage raises an eyebrow, shutting his sketchbook before standing up. He steps closer, closer, and James thinks he’s stopped breathing.
He pointedly looks at James’ bag, which is on the seat next to him, and James is suddenly all limbs and no grace as he moves it as quickly as possible, drawing that laugh out once again. James wants to wake up to that sound; it’s a shot of espresso to his soul.
He offers James an earphone, and James is helpless. He takes it as the angel speaks to him for the first time.
“It’s Dreams by Hana Vu. She released an album today and I’ve fallen in love.” He tilts his head back as the song washes over him and James is only half listening, instead focused on the long line of his neck. James has fallen in love too, he thinks, but with a man, and not with a song.
James lets the song play as he continues to stare. It’s only when the stranger turns to look at him that he realises that the track has come to an end and he’s expected to say something.
“My name’s James,” he offers, and he’s sure it’s not what the stranger wanted, but it’s all he has. He is hollowed out of everything and anything that isn’t the man on the train with him.
The man raises an eyebrow but nonetheless offers his own in return. Regulus.
After that it’s like the floodgates open. This stranger has offered James his headphone and his name and James would be a fool to not make the most of this opportunity.
He’s only half paying attention to the stops as they fly past, the eleven o’clock meeting barely even registering as a thought. He hears the call for Tottenham Court Road but Regulus is talking about his course at UCL, about how he wants to be an artist but he’s promised his parents he’ll at least try to stick out the law degree before blowing his future chance at earning money to smithereens.
James quickly glances down, firing off another email to Lily and apologising profusely but something important has come up that he simply cannot miss.
He talks about how he never really knew what he wanted to do until Lily mentioned journalism. The two have set up a small independent media organisation that he loves and can’t wait to build up. Regulus looks genuinely interested, and James has waited for what feels like forever for someone to look at him like that.
James loves his friends, he does, but when he was younger he established himself as a class clown, and his wants very rarely get taken seriously. It’s nice to have someone take him seriously, to care about his hopes and dreams and to ask intelligent questions about his plans for Sectastra Media. He knows that Lily is the real brains of the business, but he’s not completely ignorant, and Regulus seems to get that.
Tottenham Court is a distant thought, and he knows it runs contradictory to the passion he’s had for it when talking to Regulus, but this man sat beside him is magical and James doesn’t want to miss this.
Their conversation winds through countless topics and James cannot remember the last time it felt this easy for him to exist in his own skin. It’s only when he starts to get a slew of messages that he realises that they’ve been on the tube for nearly forty minutes. He glances apologetically at Regulus and calls Lily back, fully prepared for a thorough bollocking, which even he can admit he deserves.
He glances at the boy next to him and prepares himself to admit that he should’ve gotten off the tube three stops ago when he sees Regulus frantically firing off a text about how he’s not going to make the contracts lecture and can someone please send him the notes.
James doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he nudges Regulus. “Running late too, huh?”
Regulus startles slightly, a rosy flush creeping up his neck, and it’s the most gorgeous thing James has ever seen.
“I was meant to get off at Warren Street.”
James stops breathing. He stops existing. His entire world has narrowed down to the contours of Regulus’ body.
Warren Street was two stops before Tottenham Court.
The words are out before James has fully processed them.
“Go on a date with me?”
Regulus looks startled, like he can’t quite believe this is real. Silence starts to stretch.
“I was meant to get off at Tottenham Court. Go on a date with me?”
Regulus starts breathing again and James’ world starts turning again.
“Alright,” he says, and it is soft and tentative and oh so fragile and James wants to frame this moment.
The pair get off the tube, waiting for a new train to take them in the opposite direction. Something has shifted between them, and James lets his fingers brush against the back of Regulus’ hand, feeling the cool bite of his rings.
Regulus doesn’t move away.
The second train comes and they don’t even consider sitting anywhere other than next to each other. James and Regulus has become JamesAndRegulus, and the conversation flows and something rare and precious has been created.
Tottenham Court approaches, and Regulus breaks conversation, turning so that James can no longer see his sketchbook as he writes frantically across the page.
He tears out the page, offering it to James. It’s a sketch of him; rough around the edges but James knows what it means. In the top right hand corner, a number is written in delicate cursive.
James looks away from the drawing, finding Regulus biting his lip, that beautiful rose blush drawn across his cheeks.
James is helpless; so far gone and without any desire to find his way back to the person he was before he stepped on the train this morning.
“Thank you,” he says, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He pulls his phone out, immediately plugging Regulus’ number in and sending a text to the angel on the tube.
Regulus nods and says, “you’re welcome.”
The tube doors open on Tottenham Court and James makes his way to his office, feeling lighter than he has in months.
Lily will rightfully be fuming, and James knows that it’s nearly midday, but he thinks that perhaps he wasn’t late after all.
He was right where he needed to be, right on time.
#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#starchaser#marauders#marauders era#sunseeker#jegulus microfic#dead gay wizards#si writes#microfics but each time i write one it gets longer#watch me write a full length novel still calling it a microfic#also go listen to hana vu’s album it’s incredible thank u x
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KAI ANDERSON x short!reader
── headcanons
requested by @ciaraaaxx
warnings: mentions of murder & sex
a/n: the shorter the king / queen the taller the crown (or whatever that means)
when Kai isn’t being serious and scary, bullying you is his favourite pastime.
because what’d you expect a man to do when he’s not planning world domination? (he’s actually immature af)
if he feels like you’re not giving him enough attention, he would snatch your phone out of your hand and hold it over your head and just out of your reach.
“not my fault you’re vertically challenged”
in these moments, the urge to punch him in the stomach or kick him in the balls is dangerously strong.
calls you “midget” or “short-stack”.
he’s always making mean jokes at your expense.
“i’d call you a good girl but it might not even reach your ears.. it might go over your head,”
“you never ate all your food or went to bed early, huh?”
“you’re so stubborn your body even refused to grow,”
“you’re so fucking short… how about i put a few inches in you?”
once, at the drive-thru, Kai ordered you a Happy Meal, complete with a plastic toy, while the rest of the cult got regular burgers. because you had an argument earlier and this was his petty revenge.
sometimes, before you go on kill missions, he counts heads and deliberately pretends to not see you. just to be an ass.
“Harrison, Bob, Samuels, Beverly, Winter, Ivy… annnd that’s everyone. All set, remember the plan– wait, hold on…has anyone seen Y/N?”
he gets a kick out of pissing you off.
which motivates you to try extra hard with the murdering part because you imagine stabbing Kai instead of the poor person.
seeing the crazed look in your eyes and the fact that you were covered in blood makes him hard.
drenched in someone else’s blood, you stumbled out of the master bedroom and into the dark hallway. the knife slipped from your fingers and dropped to the carpet-covered floor with a muffled thud. with shaking hands, you reached up and pulled the rubber clown mask from your face, the cool air of the hallway a welcome relief against your flushed skin. the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins only moments before had dwindled away, and you had to lean against the wall for support. seconds later, Kai burst through the doorway. his mask already discarded, revealing his wild, stringy blue hair falling haphazardly in front of his intense eyes. a maniacal smile stretching across his face, he closed the distance between you in two large strides, hand cupping your cheek with a possessive grip as he forced you to look up at him. “you,” he murmured, his voice husky with admiration, “were fucking amazing.” before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, open mouthed, all tongue and teeth and breathy moans.
(he’s gonna put some inches in you… ykwim)
he loves being so much taller than you. every time you crane your neck to look at him, it makes him feel powerful and it fuels his ego not that it needs more inflating
expect a lot of manhandling. he’ll throw you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and march straight to the bedroom whenever he’s in the mood to try and conceive a messiah with you.
he lets you sit on his lap while he pretends it’s no big deal.
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#american horror story#ahs#kai anderson#kai anderson x reader#ahs cult#evan peters#kai anderson x y/n#james patrick march#tate langdon#kit walker#tate langdon x y/n#kit walker x y/n#kyle spencer#tate langdon x reader#jimmy darling#kit walker x reader#ahs fandom#ahs kai#ahs season 7#⟢ my fics
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losing him was blue
pairings- Charles Leclerc x reader
WC-600
a/n- Well it's the Miami GP and I stan the blue but I love the red, so here's a song fic that both has Red and Blue. I am not the biggest Taylor Swift fan but Red is a bop, so here's an angsty(?) Charles fic
f1 masterlist
Loving Charles Leclerc was red.
It was passionate, daring, burning.
You first met Charles at gala. What was the gala for? Well, you couldn’t really remember. To be honest you couldn’t remember much of that night. Well, except for the stolen glances at a green-eyed temptation. You remembered the silent question ‘do you want to get out of here?’ And you certainly remember the warmth of his hands as they trailed your body back at his hotel room.
You thought that night would be a one time thing, Charles had been thinking differently. It wasn’t even a week after that steamy night where the two of you snuck out of the gala that you saw him in a random coffee shop. He recognized you straight away, coming up to greet you with a ‘hey stranger.’
Your relationship mirrored much of the first night you met. You couldn’t get enough of each other. Nights were spent wrapped in each others arms under a duvet, talking about everything and nothing. Dreams and fears. You were obsessed with him just as he was with you.
Missing Charles Leclerc was dark gray.
It was colorless, cold, lonely
Loving him wasn’t practical. He was away more often than not. You often missed each other due to the timezones, and on the off chance you caught each other it was only for a few moment before he was needed else where or you fell asleep.
The nights spent once wrapped in each others arms were quickly replace by his pillow, that was soaked with your tears. Your fears about your relationship were quickly becoming a reality.You cried to him one night- “I miss you Charles, everynight I wish you were here next to me but instead you are halfway across the world.”
He could only offer comforting words over the phone, promising you that summer break would be there before you knew it. You couldn’t fault him for it, it was his dream. You couldn’t ask him to sacrifice all that he worked so hard to achieve for a single person.
Losing Charles Leclrec was blue.
It was empty, confusing, depressing
To you, the conversation had came out of nowhere. You were feeling better knowing that Charles would be home for a few weeks while on summer break. You didn’t have to miss him, he was right next to you. So why did it feel like he was a million miles away.
The past two weeks you could feel Charles pulling away. You tried talking to him, tried to get him to say what was going on. Each concern of your was brushed off with a simple ‘I’m tired’. So when he finally asked to talk, you were more than willing to listen.
You didn’t expect the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or the ‘I don’t want to drag you along, you deserve better than me, someone who can be there for you and not halfway across the world.’ You stared at him wordlessly as he packed up his things and kissed you on the cheek wishing you the best.
Forgetting Charles Leclerc was like trying to know someone you never met, impossible.
His cologne lingered around in your apartment, his smile haunted your dreams, and your ears constantly played tricks on you when you swore you could hear his laugh. The universe was cruel in all the ways it forced you to remember Charles Leclerc when you wanted to do nothing more than forget him.
Losing him might’ve been blue, missing him was dark gray, but loving him will forever be a burning red.
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#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc angst#cl16#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#drabble#venusacrossthestars
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This question is based on a reblog I saw of one of your posts. In the reblog they suggested that if Malleus was a normal human them lurking at an abandoned building at night would be viewed as just as creepy as Rook’s behavior and that if someone who had normal creepy behavior like Rook was fae or nonhuman then he would be viewed as less creepy. Do you have any thoughts on this? I’m not sure how to feel one way or another.
[Referencing this post!]
No worries, I think I know what you meant!! ^^ But thank you anyway for clarifying, it's definitely appreciated!
asdhlbyioyqiqhubq I didn't mean for my reply to that original ask to be taken that seriously, but this does open up an interesting topic of discussion!
I do feel like this is really an issue of the perception of humans versus non-humans (fae, merfolk, beastmen, monsters, direbeasts, ghosts, Phantoms, etc.). We can excuse a lot of things that creatures of fictional races do because the "standards" for what is and is not acceptable shifts to adapt to the concept that these races are otherworldly and thus play by different rules, have different cultures, or operate under different expectations. Meanwhile, if it's a regular human, we can easily compare them to our real-life standards and expectations for human behavior (even if it is not done at a conscious level). Because of this, it is more "palatable" to hear "oh, this fairy killed someone" compared to "oh, this human killed someone" or “oh, a vampire drank blood” compared to “oh, a human drank blood”. It's also more likely that we attribute what is normally perceived as odd or, as this anon puts it, "creepy" behaviors as something else entirely when done by a non-human race. (Conversely, things considered normal for a non-human race to do may be strange if a human did the same.) Suddenly it's no longer "creepy", and the atypical behavior is attributed to being a characteristic that "makes sense" for that non-human race trying to adapt to life among humans.
As an example, let's consider some merfolk. Jade and Floyd have the hobby of collecting objects from along the seafloor. If you walked into their rooms and saw a chest full of miscellaneous things (combs, forks, pendants, shards of sea glass, etc.), you'd probably go, "they might not have these items under the sea, maybe they're curious about them!" If you found the same thing in like... Trey's room... You might be more confused and put off by it. "Why does he have all this stuff? He doesn't seem to be using any of it, they're just sitting here and taking up space."
Going back to the Malleus vs Rook scenario, let's now consider the original (with fae Malleus and human Rook). We will assume that you have zero prior knowledge of these characters, their backstories, or personalities, so treat it as though you're seeing them for the very first time ever. Think about the circumstances. You're alone in this new world, at the mercy of a headmaster who provides your (precarious) housing and food, and you JUST witnessed the horrors of what magic can do when pushed to its brink (since Malleus first shows up in book 2, not 1). You're in your rickety housing and, in the middle of the night, you cannot sleep. You decide to go on a walk to clear your head, knowing that it should be fine to be out even though the surroundings are dark because no one frequents this part of campus. But then you see a figure that shouldn't be there... lingering. Discomfort would be a perfectly acceptable emotion to have here.
In the situation where it's Rook, you might be apprehensive. What's this guy doing here and what does he want from you? His big old hat does not help because the brim of it might obscure his face and make him appear like he's purposefully trying to hide his face. You might not be so eager to confront this guy and instead might look the other way or not engage at all in a conversation. In the situation where it's Malleus, you may also be apprehensive, but you'd also be significantly more curious. Because of his horns (a trait of being a dragon fae), he casts a very unique silhouette unlike any other student at NRC. You might be so surprised or curious that you approach him and try to learn more about the weird horned guy. I'd also like to again point out that the horns are the basis for Yuu's nickname for Malleus, so one of his fae traits ends up being a means of connection and socialization for the two. This would not be so for a human character that shows up on your front lawn late into the day.
Now let's reverse it. Let's say that Rook is the fae and Malleus is the human. Even if we assume that Rook maintains his hat but lacks the horns (since that's a trait of dragon fae specifically), he would still have the pointed ears of a fae and perhaps unique eyes. That alone could draw others in. Malleus would have no discerning physical traits to dismiss his behavior. He would most likely be seen as a weird human who likes to wander the campus at night. Rook would meanwhile be granted the benefit of the doubt, something like "oh, he's not human; is it normal for creatures like him to be active at night?"
In both cases, Malleus and Rook are "trespassers" (Yuu even gets the option to call Malleus that in 2-14). Your perspective would shift considerably based on whether you think of the "trespasser" as human or non-human.
Of course, this is not taking personality, social status, or other behaviors (like Rook's stalking or uncanny ability to collect details about his peers with but a glance, which Malleus does not engage in) into consideration. I'm only giving my thoughts on the first encounter with Yuu. However, I do believe that the change in one's perception due to human/non-human labels does extend into other interactions. For example, maybe fae!Rook's fascination with beauty and even him being invasive toward other students would be dismissed because this would be attributed to "oh, he's a fairy; he's curious about humans and wants to explore the world because his race is usually so sheltered and isolated from it all". Regular ol' human!Rook doing the same things is viewed as stalkerish and unsettling. Human!Malleus might be seen as more of an awkward loner that doesn't know how to interact with his peers as opposed to fae!Malleus, who has these same characteristics chalked up to him being a long-lived fae who hasn't had the chance to engage with people outside of his country.
I think that about sums up all my thoughts on this topic. Please let me know if you think I overlooked anything ^^
#twisted wonderland#twst#Rook Hunt#Malleus Draconia#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#notes from the writing raven#question#Jade Leech#Tweels#Floyd Leech#Trey Clover#book 2 spoilers#Yuu
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Powerslide
Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader
Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.
Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol
A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3
“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too
I lose my mind when it comes to you
I take time with the ones I choose
And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you”
—Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House
The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over.
You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.
Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.
Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation.
You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.
“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.
“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”
You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”
“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.
“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”
His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.
“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance.
“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”
There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.
“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”
“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.
“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.
“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”
“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”
“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him.
“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”
“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”
“And who’s the right girl?”
“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”
Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.
When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.
“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”
“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”
“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”
“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.
“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”
“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”
“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”
His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.
“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.
By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.
As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.”
Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”
He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it.
Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”
You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”
Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking your hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.
When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.
“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”
Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in.
“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”
“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9
Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!
#tomorrow x together#txt#txt fic#txt fluff#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt angst#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun angst#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun#yeonjun txt#txt yeonjun#txt smut#yeonjun smut
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through all of the shadowy corners of me
zutara month, day three: (re)meet ugly/meet cute. @zutaramonth
summary: as katara's plans on the anniversay of her mother's murder fall apart, she ducks into a teashop to wait out the storm and finds herself familiar with the rude tea server she comes face to face with and promptly bursts into tears. because of-fucking-course.
warnings: grief, nightmares, references to kya's murder (and ursa's disappearance, though that is less explicit), and references to ableism wrt facial differences. also, just, some lightly gratuitous swearing, on behalf of katara's no good very bad day. she deserves it.
other notes: title taken from landon piggs’ falling in love at a coffeeteashop. because i am basic in that way.
Katara’s pretty sure the universe is conspiring against her.
First, it was the fucking felt-tip markers being all dried up—damn it Sokka—she needed for the posters for the protest she was supposed to head.
(She tries not to think about how really, first, it was the dream she woke up from, that she wakes up from often, but especially on this day, the dream with fearful eyes and the ominous drip of blood and the feeling of too late too late too late. The dream that is also a memory.)
Someone had to make the posters—because seriously, why was the school shutting down the campus food bank when a third of the student population was food-insecure?— so she missed her first class of the day to get new ones from the closest craft store, over half an hour way with traffic. There was supposed to be a quiz, too, and the professor is notoriously stubborn about absences and make-ups.
And then there was this huge storm, so they couldn’t even have the protest today like they’d planned.
Now, as Katara ducks out of the rain and into the tiny little hole-in-the-wall ambient tea shop—The Jasmine Dragon, the sign had said—which is all warm lighting and soft ringing laughter from the bare few patrons inside, she figures she can at least get a cup of something hot to drink. It’s been a truly horrible day, and she can’t wait to get back home, sleep for ten hours straight, and wipe it from the record of her memory, but right now, this is her one saving grace.
So, when she gets to the second place in line, very patiently waiting as the server at the front snipes at the man in front of her, part of her wants to reel up to confront him. Sure, she knows customer service can be a day-in, day-out nightmare—she didn’t spend her first two semesters waiting tables because it was fun—but really, he could at least try to be a little nicer. The man wasn’t doing anything wrong, as far as she could see.
When she gets to the front, Katara opens her mouth to say—something, she doesn’t know what—and is caught off-guard to find that she recognizes him faintly. With his eyes the color of amber, swoopy, dark hair, and a shiny, painful-looking burn scar set against the left side of his face, on her right—yes, he was a boy who was in Sokka’s class back in high school. And he was a total jerk, barely speaking a word to anyone except to get into arguments, whether with teachers or other kids. She didn’t know him all that well herself, but she’d never liked him from the stories Sokka told or for the way he seemed to bristle at everyone and everything as she watched from a morbidly curious distance.
Zuko. Yes, she remembers him.
“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice almost a snarl when she spends a beat too long taking in his features, though he’s not looking at her, instead glancing down at his scratchpad. “I’m supposed to tell all of the customers we’re out of the oolong,” he adds in a rough voice, without looking up.
Katara wants to rage, wants to scream, why does he think he gets to treat people like that, god, at least have the decency to look me in the eye and treat me like a person when you’re being a dick—but instead, she bursts into tears.
Very loud, messy tears. It’s been a long day.
And, well. He certainly looks up then.
“Um,” Zuko says in lieu of an actual reaction, his right eye wide. His expression has softened considerably, his mouth shaped in surprise, his browline furrowed. “We have jasmine?” he tries.
Well, she thinks as he stands there stiffly, the perfect image of a deer in headlights, before reaching over the counter to push the napkin dispenser toward her, this is humiliating.
At least it’s not terribly busy in here. There’s no one standing beside her, and she only feels one or two worried glances from the tables, the shop mostly empty.
“Sorry,” Katara says through her tears. “God, I’m sorry. I just—I’m having awful day,” she says, motioning to her face as a way of explanation before yanking a napkin out from the dispenser to dry her face.
Zuko’s lip curls in what she thinks might be sympathy.
“Me, too,” he admits on a sigh. “Sorry. What can I get for you?”
“Um,” she says, shaking her head and smiling through still teary eyes. God. “A cup of jasmine tea would actually be nice.”
“Sure.”
She pays quickly and tries to ignore his eyes as they follow her over to the tiny round table she chooses in the corner. One cup, she thinks. She’ll drink one cup of tea and be out of here quicker than even the lightning flaring outside, before anyone can say anything about it, and then head back to her apartment and think through every turn in life that got her there, sobbing in line at a tea shop as a mean boy she knew from high school tried not to call her on it.
But he has other plans, because when he brings her order to her, he doesn’t just leave like he’s supposed to, standing there for several awkward moments that feel as though they’re spanning lifetimes.
Yeah. The universe is definitely conspiring against her.
“So… you’re… good now?”
Katara stares at him blankly for a moment, feeling her jaw grow a little slack.
“Are you… checking on me?”
A beat. “I’m just very committed to customer service,” Zuko deadpans, and Katara can’t help but laugh.
“Right,” she says. “Yeah. I’m… good. Thank you.” He nods—just once, a rigid jerk of his head—and starts to turn on his heel to leave.
But for some reason, she suddenly doesn’t want that. He’s being… almost kind of sweet, and it’s so incongruous with the memory she has of him that it kindles a new kind of curiosity. “We went to school together, you know,” she says quickly, before he can fully turn around. He pauses in his tracks. “You probably don’t remember, but—”
“I remember you,” Zuko says before she can even finish. She frowns, intrigued. “You always wore your hair up in a braid and those loops. And once, even though we barely knew each other,” he adds with the faint traces of a smile, “you told off that kid when he was… uh…” The smile fades.
Katara remembers suddenly. It was an overcast day, not unlike the way this one had started, and Zuko had been sitting alone in the courtyard, not bothering anyone (for once) as Katara made her way to lunch when she saw some other kid go up to him to start needling him, saying horrible things about his scar. Very loudly.
Katara hadn’t liked that, so she’d marched right over and told the kid so. Also very loudly.
She’s pretty sure that’s the only time she and Zuko even tangentially interacted, and even then, they hadn’t spoken any actual words to each other. Everything else she knew about him came from stories and distant observation.
“When he was being a dick,” she finishes for him.
“Yeah,” Zuko says. Peering through his eyelashes, he adds more quietly, “I’ve always remembered that.”
“Really?”
A shrug of his shoulders. “You didn’t have to do that, but you did anyway.”
“I don’t like cruel people.” He nods, hands in his pockets, eyes suddenly downcast and looking almost a little ashamed. It makes her sort of sad. “Do you have time to sit?” Katara asks suddenly.
He looks surprised as he glances back at up her. “What?”
“I mean, I know you’re working, so don’t worry about it if not,” she adds in a hurry, tripping over he words. “I just thought maybe…”
“My shift’s actually over,” he answers, and suddenly, there’s a soft, sort-of-shy smile playing on his lips. “I—I could sit.”
He pulls the chair out and sits while Katara sips at her tea. It really is quite good.
“This is almost making up for the rest of my day,” she laughs, and his face scrunches up, maybe almost amused.
But then, the expression morphs. “Why was your day so bad, Katara?”
She’s surprised to find he ever knew her name, let alone remembers it now. He really is full of surprises.
She could tell him the simple version, the actual events without the why she was taking it so hard, without divulging what it was really about… but, well…
He seems sincere enough in asking, at any rate.
“I just… I lost my mother when I was really young,” she begins to explain, feeling sort of choked-up and tight in her chest again, but no tears threaten to fall right now.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, and she looks up to meet his gaze, swimming with undeniable sympathy. “That’s something we have in common.”
She looks at him for a long moment, surprised. This is something they share, then. Something they can understand about each other. “I’m sorry, too. It’s awful. And… today is the anniversary. I usually just try to keep busy, but…”
“But everything went wrong?”
Katara hums.
“That’s the fucking worst,” he says bluntly, and Katara laughs then. He has very little tact, it seems, but also, yeah. It is. And it’s nice for someone to be able to… just say it. To feel it with her.
“It is the fucking worst,” she agrees. “But… I really am doing better now.”
“I’m glad,” he says, but he frowns, staring down at his hands, which are splayed on the table. “I really shouldn’t keep you from your day."
“I mean… the rest of my plans for the day have sort of fallen apart, and I should probably wait out the rain anyway, so I might, uh,” she says, feeling suddenly shy and hesitant. “I might stick around for a while. Get one more of these,” she nods down to her cup, warm and solid in her hands. “You know.” She takes another sip.
His smile glints, but it’s soft, too, definitely as shy as she feels. “I could do with a cup.”
Katara’s own smile grows wider.
The kindly older man who runs the shop—Zuko's uncle, Katara learns quickly—brings them out another round of jasmine, two cups this time, and Zuko slowly raises his in a cheers motions motion, a little awkward and a lot funny.
“To awful days?” he says with a raise of his brow.
“And to perfect storms,” she adds in agreement, laughter bubbling in her chest.
They clink their teacups together.
#zutaramonth2024#zutara#zutara month#my fic#me internally: idk how i feel about writing a modern au i don't feel like i can get into their headspaces the right way#also me: writes almost 2000 words about it#atla#zuko#katara#trigger: grief.#trigger: nightmares.#trigger: murder.#jic#trigger: ableism.
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Wayward Son AU ✨Thoughts✨: Inko seems to have realized at the end that yes Akuhara really was a monster…
So, what if the reason it’s not talked about, that she doesn’t quite look at Izuku, that she can’t bring herself to ask the questions that linger, that she -maybe- pretends That Night never happened was her doing as people do when the unexplainable happens and is trying to convince herself that what happened never actually did, but the problem is this: Akuhara disappeared without a trace, the lingering smell of smoke and ash assaults her nose whenever she walks past his door and the vivid hues of raging fire flashes in her eyes for just a second, and she has two(2) ragged scars (one is a ring of too many needle sharp teeth, the other is long slashes spaced almost too far apart to be from one thing, but too consistent to be made separately) on her back and shoulder, dark and raised and occasionally tender to the touch in a way that sends real terror down her spine.
She can’t look at Izumi without seeing her sweet little hero burning their neighbor alive, can’t look without remembering him applying first aid to her lacerations as soon as whatever Akuhara really was had burnt to ash, can’t help but to think if maybe she’s gone crazy (if it’s genetic and is afflicting Izuku, too, if he had really killed their neighbor, but instead of a monster he was just a normal person with a slightly obvious quirk), so she pretends it didn’t happen and questions reality more times than she’s comfortable admitting, but Izuku’s alive, she’s alive, and so far she can’t find evidence of another slip, so maybe… maybe it was just stress…
She can’t quite convince herself of that, but she certainly tries her best every day.
Ohohoh ! I might tweak it a bit but this would/will probably fit in pretty well with the AU.
Cause look, monster or not, terrified or not, it would take A Lot to push Izuku to deliberately and actively kill something/someone.
So I could see him doing research, could see him getting caught up in everything and learning everything he could, but taking that final step? Seeking out the monster that lives in his building and destroying it?
That's gonna take a push.
So Inko being caught up in it all, being in danger, would be a very good final stressor for him.
And then, after it's said and done, after Akuhara is little more than ash in the wind, Inko just ,,, can't.
Can't process it properly.
Can't believe it.
Can't look at Izuku and see him the way she once did.
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PLEASE talk more about DurgeWyll and Hozier, PLEASE... I am rotating the songs you posted and the vision is so good
thank you for asking me :) (the doors close sealing you in the crypt)
i joke. ok first of all i need to cite ten @bladesmitten as a resident durgewyll expert and direct you to his blog... she's written some incredible fic & analysis of the durgewyll romance and made a lot of gorgeous wyll edits and art in general, can't rec his blog enough.
i have sadly never played through the durgewyll romance & only watched it so there are undoubtedly story details i am unaware of. alas i have only played the tav version of his romance so far
some spoilers for durge beneath the cut. i tried to be vague but a warning there. also i didnt stick my oar into unreal unearth or any of the adjacent eps for that album .. sorry
all that being said here are my 2 cents
i think the main draw for picking hozier songs for durgewyll is that incredibly sexy dynamic they have of being each other's foil as well as each other's love interest. both wyll and durge are bound to an inescapable doom within the story: to pay with their body and soul for the fate of baldur's gate. durge must destroy it to please their father, wyll must save it. (wyll's saved it already, at the cost of his soul, and durge has to sacrifice their soul to destroy it as (redacted), but i wont go further on that tangent lol. its fascinating though.)
i think a core concept of wyll to focus on here as well is his faith. in his act 2 dance scene, in response to one of the dialogue options, wyll replies that he 'still keeps faith in the old tales of true love'- this is crucial. wyll is the man to whom the gods gave a cold shoulder. he has no love or faith for them. but he keeps faith in the old tales- he keeps faith, specifically, in durge.. 'his greatest adventure'.. and if durge chooses to resist their father's authority, they spurn a god for wyll's sake. there's an incredible amount of mutual devotion there.
there is also the monster hunter/monster dynamic. i haven't delved into it much here bc i am more interested in how eerily wyll and durge parallel each other as twin mirrors and exiles from the gate, the light and dark sides, sharing almost a common doom, trapped in the long shadows of their fathers.... man. but the monster dynamic should absolutely be examined and explored, it's fascinating. i think it's another compelling aspect of wyll's character. he's a man with a lot of resonant contradictions. a monster hunter who refuses to hunt the monster of baldur's gate and instead severs them from the one who made them .... a monster hunter who holds out his hand to the monster he is supposed to kill... wyll's love of the mysterious and strange and his kindness, i think, predispose him to see durge as an ally and a friend. not from naivete, but from an open heart
my hozier picks for durgewyll overall:
it will come back - i love the way the view shifts in this. one of my top durgewyll picks for the way it evokes a lot of the horror & tragedy that wyll looks into and doesnt flinch away from & the hunger durge has toward wyll extending his own lonely & friendly hand
shrike - i see this as primarily from durge's view. picked for the devotion & regret
NFWMB - applies beautifully to both of them. theeeee durgewyll song to me from andy's works... consider the lyrics from both person's perspective to feel the world open beneath your feet lol
as it was - ditto, i think it encompasses both perspectives. also one of my favorite songs he wrote so im biased lmao. i think this is another very resonant choice for the durgewyll dynamic
like real people do - feels an overly obvious pick but it could work especially well for a resist durge
no plan - could be an intriguing choice. i can't quite swing it but some of the lines in this for durgewyll... i like them...
you could definitely make a case for from eden for another from durge's view. gives me a feeling of a durge who's not resisting but idk
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