#actually I’m curious to know what exactly was the question here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-winter-spider · 2 months ago

Text

Mine | One Shot

Parings: Bucky x Reader AU

Word count: 10k+

Warnings: Probably the fluffiest thing ive ever written, of course angst.

A/N: Yall this AU bucky branch ive extended has been life changing for me lmaoooo

The first time you meet Bucky Barnes, he’s already looking at you, a soft, open look in his eyes that sends a jolt through you. You’ve just started a new job in town and ended up here at a cozy, dimly lit bar one night after work. You sit down a few stools away, glancing over at him—he’s warm, approachable, not exactly the type you’d expect to find sitting alone.

You look away quickly, heart suddenly racing, though you’re not sure why. He’s a stranger, just someone you’ll see tonight and probably never again, but something about him feels safe in a way you haven’t felt in years.

A few minutes later, he moves closer, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Rough day?” he asks, voice gentle, as if he’s been waiting for you to say something first.

You nod, a little surprised by both his forwardness and the kindness in his tone. You’re used to handling things on your own, keeping walls up that no one’s ever bothered to climb. But something about Bucky makes you want to drop your guard, if only for a moment.

You offer Bucky a small smile, feeling strangely at ease under his gaze. “Yeah, you could say that,” you reply, letting out a quiet sigh. “It’s been… a long week. Just finished my first week at a new job, and I’m still finding my footing. Everything’s just a bit overwhelming, you know?”

Bucky nods, understanding flashing in his eyes. “New job, new town?” he asks, his tone inviting, like he genuinely wants to know, not just make conversation.

You nod, surprised at how easy it feels to open up. “Yeah, both, actually. I just moved here, so it’s been a lot of… adjustment.”

He tilts his head, his expression warm and reassuring. “That’s a lot to take on. I remember when I first moved here… let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a smooth transition.” He chuckles softly, the sound low and comforting, and you can’t help but smile.

“Really?” you ask, curious despite yourself. “What brought you here?”

His gaze softens as he considers the question, as though he’s debating just how much to share. “Needed a fresh start,” he says simply, a hint of something unspoken in his eyes. “Figured this was a good place to do that.”

You feel a pang of recognition—you understand that need to start over, to build something new. “I get that,” you murmur. “Sometimes… sometimes you just need a change to get things back on track.”

“Exactly,” he replies, his eyes brightening as he leans a little closer. “Sounds like we might have a bit in common, then.”

There’s a brief silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s like the two of you are sharing something without needing to say it outright. You feel your usual guardedness slipping, replaced by a warmth that’s both thrilling and unsettling. It’s strange—he’s still a stranger, and yet he feels familiar, like someone you could trust, someone who understands.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his voice gentle, his gaze steady. “Just to celebrate surviving the first week. It’s no small thing.”

You smile, nodding as a rush of gratitude fills you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Bucky signals to the bartender, ordering two drinks and settling back beside you, his posture relaxed. Bucky leans in, a warm smile lighting up his face as he listens, his full attention on you. It’s like he’s hanging on every word, nodding and chuckling at all the right moments, his eyes crinkling at the corners every time you say something that amuses him.

“So, then,” you continue, trying to hold back a laugh as you recall the memory, “I walked into what I thought was the meeting room, you know, just trying to make a good first impression… only to realize it was the break room. And everyone just kind of stared at me like I was some intruder there to steal their coffee.”

Bucky lets out a genuine laugh, shaking his head. “Oh no! And you didn’t just play it cool?”

You grin, rolling your eyes. “Nope, not at all. I panicked and mumbled something about being ‘lost’—in the most literal sense. And then, to top it off, I nearly backed into a coffee machine trying to escape!"

He laughs harder, the sound warm and genuine, filling the space between you. “I think that’s endearing,” he says, his tone sincere. “Bet they thought you were charming.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say sarcastically, unable to hide your smile. “If by ‘charming’ you mean they think I’m the odd one in the office now, then yeah, absolutely. As if being the 'new girl' wasnt enough"

He smirks, leaning his chin on his hand as he watches you, that mischievous glint still in his eyes. “Hey, at least you’re memorable. It’s not every day people meet someone with personality.”

You laugh, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so I have ‘personality’ now?”

“Definitely,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re… different. In a good way.” His gaze softens, and for a moment, you see something more serious flicker in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your chest, you shake your head, focusing on lightening the mood. “So,” you say, grinning, “what about you? Any embarrassing first-day stories?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, way too many,” he says, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “When I started at my last job, they had this big company lunch. I was so nervous that I accidentally grabbed the CEO’s sandwich off his plate, thinking it was from the catering table.”

Your jaw drops. “No! What did you do?”

He laughs, shaking his head at the memory. “Honestly? I didn’t even realize until I’d taken the first bite. The CEO looked at me, just stunned, and I kind of just froze, sandwich halfway to my mouth. I thought for sure I was going to get fired on the spot.”

You’re laughing so hard you nearly spill your drink. “So, did he say anything?”

“Oh, he said plenty,” Bucky says, chuckling along with you. “But, somehow, he found it funny. Or maybe he just took pity on me, who knows? Either way, I survived, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down.”

You both sit there, laughter fading into comfortable silence as you sip your drinks, sharing those lighthearted moments and embarrassing stories that somehow make you feel closer. After a few beats, he glances at you, his expression softening.

“It’s nice, you know… hearing all this,” he says quietly. “Feels like I’m getting to know the real you.”

Your cheeks flush, but his words make you feel seen in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. “Yeah… I think maybe you are,” you say softly.

His gaze holds yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you. And as you sit together, in the dim light of the bar with laughter still lingering in the air, you realize that this—this feeling of being understood, of being truly known—is something you didn’t even know you were missing. And with Bucky, it feels like you’re finally finding it.

By the time you’re finishing your second drink, you’re feeling lighter, the weight of the past week fading away, replaced by a warmth that seems to linger between you and Bucky.

“Well,” he says after a moment, glancing at his watch but making no move to leave. “Thank you for letting me share your first-week celebration. I don’t know about you, but I’d say this is the best part of any first week—meeting someone you didn’t expect to.”

You blush, looking down with a shy smile. “Yeah… me too.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, and in the back of your mind, you realize you’re hoping this won’t be the last time you see him. Maybe he feels the same way, because as you gather your things to leave, he clears his throat, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“So, listen… if you ever want some company after work or need someone to talk to about the craziness of starting over, I’d be happy to be that person,” he says, his voice soft, a little uncertain.

Your heart skips a beat, and you smile, feeling that warmth spread through you again. “I’d like that, Bucky. I’d really like that.”

With one last shared smile, you both exchange numbers, a quiet promise lingering in the air that this, whatever it is, isn’t just a fleeting moment.

“You know,” he says, after a quiet moment, “if you’re free tomorrow, i can show you the best place for coffee in the morning.”

For reasons you can’t explain, you say yes. And it’s the first of many yeses you’ll say to him, even if you can’t shake the feeling that opening up to someone can only lead to getting hurt.

The next morning, you meet Bucky outside a quaint little café, the kind with mismatched chairs and hanging plants that give it a cozy, lived-in feel. Sunlight spills across the sidewalk, and there’s a crispness in the air that makes everything feel brighter, more hopeful.

You both order coffee and pastries and find a table outside. As you settle in, he looks over at you with that same soft, open smile that feels like a balm to your heart. You’re not sure if it’s the warmth of the coffee or his presence, but somehow you feel yourself letting go, leaning into the morning with him as if it’s a part of something bigger.

“So, did you always know you wanted to be here?” he asks, taking a sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shake your head with a little laugh. “Not exactly. Moving here was… spontaneous. I just needed a change, I guess. I don’t know if it’s where I want to end up, but it feels like a good place to be, at least for now.”

He nods thoughtfully, a smile tugging at his lips. “I get that. Change is… good sometimes. Scary, but good.”

There’s a brief silence before you turn the question back on him. “What about you? Have you always been here?”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I bounced around a lot before I landed here. I’m from Brooklyn, actually. Grew up in a small apartment with my mom and sister, Rebecca. It wasn’t much, but it was home.”

He pauses, his gaze drifting, and you can see a fondness there, mingled with nostalgia. “My sister used to make me these ridiculous lunches for school. You know those sandwiches where it’s way too much peanut butter, like it’d practically glue your mouth shut?”

You laugh, picturing a young Bucky struggling with a lopsided sandwich. “So what, she was trying to get you to stop talking?”

“Maybe! It probably worked a few times,” he says with a grin. “She was older than me, and she loved teasing me. But she’d also defend me to the ends of the earth if I needed it. She was tough but loyal—still is. We used to spend summers playing stickball in the streets or riding our bikes down to the pier until the sun set. Those were good days.”

You find yourself smiling, caught up in the warmth of his stories. There’s something about the way he talks about his sister and his childhood that feels so genuine, so open, and it makes you feel safe somehow, like you could share parts of yourself that you usually keep hidden.

“Sounds like you were close,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding. “We still are, even though we don’t see each other as much these days. But you know how it is. Life gets busy, people drift….” He trails off, looking a little pensive, but then he catches your gaze and offers a reassuring smile. “But we still check in. She likes to give me a hard time about how I’ve ‘softened up’ over the years.”

“Oh, so you used to be a real troublemaker, huh?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But only in the fun ways. My friends and I—especially my best friend, Steve—always found ways to keep things interesting. Steve was the wild one, though, always dragging me into things. He’d get these ideas—like, one summer, he convinced me we could make a raft and take it out on the East River.”

“Wait, you didn’t actually try that, did you?” you ask, laughing as you imagine two boys clinging to a makeshift raft.

“Oh, we tried,” Bucky says, shaking his head with a chuckle. “It was a disaster. We were out there for maybe ten minutes before the whole thing started falling apart, and we ended up soaking wet, half-drowning, while everyone on the shore was just watching and laughing. My mom nearly had a heart attack when she found out.”

You laugh, clutching your coffee cup as you picture the scene. “So, I guess you didn’t end up the next great explorers of Brooklyn?”

“Nope, that dream died real fast,” he says, grinning. “But that was Steve for you—big dreams, no plans. I think that’s why we were close, though. He’d always push me to do things I wouldn’t even think about trying. He’d challenge me in ways that I didn’t know I needed. Kind of made me who I am today.”

You see a glimmer of nostalgia and perhaps a little sadness in his eyes as he talks about Steve, and you wonder if they’re still close. But before you can ask, he leans forward, his expression softening as he looks at you.

“So, how about you?” he asks, changing the subject. “Any siblings?”

You nod, taking a small sip of your coffee. “Yeah, an older brother. We were close growing up, but life kind of… pulled us in different directions. He was the one who kept me out of trouble, actually. He fled home as soon as he was old enough” You chuckle sadly “Always thought he was the responsible one, and I was the daydreamer. Guess some things never change.”

Bucky’s eyes light up, as if he’s seeing a new side of you. “Daydreamer, huh? What kind of dreams?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to answer. But then you feel that familiar warmth between you, the kind that feels safe, inviting you to share a little more of yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore,” you admit softly. “I guess that’s part of why I moved here. Trying to figure it out, trying to find something that feels… real.”

He nods, his gaze understanding, as if he sees right through you in a way that’s both comforting and a little terrifying. “Well, I think that’s brave,” he says quietly. “Taking a leap, starting fresh… not everyone has the guts to do that.”

The way he says it, so genuine and reassuring, makes you feel like maybe you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, like maybe the path isn’t as uncertain as it once felt.

The conversation drifts into comfortable silence, and you both take a moment to sip your coffee and enjoy the warmth of the sun. After a while, he leans back, his expression thoughtful as he looks over at you.

“You know, meeting someone like you… it’s kind of a rare thing,” he says, his voice soft but full of a sincerity that takes you by surprise. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels… right.”

His words settle into your heart, and you feel a warmth spreading through you, a connection that feels deeper than anything you expected to find in a new town, with a man you’ve only just met. And in that moment, with the sunlight catching in his eyes, you feel a quiet certainty that this—whatever this is—might be the beginning of something real.

Over the next few weeks, life begins to settle into a new rhythm. Days are marked by coffee dates that turn into long walks down the quiet streets, and those walks stretch into late-night conversations on park benches under streetlights. Bucky has quickly become your favorite part of the day, and even though neither of you has spoken about how you feel, there’s a growing closeness—a feeling of inevitability that’s hard to ignore.

One night, after a cozy dinner together, you find yourselves lingering on a quiet bench, watching the lights of the city reflected on the river. The silence between you is easy, comfortable, but there’s an unspoken tension there, too—something that hovers in the space between words, in the quiet glances you both share.

Bucky looks over at you, a warm smile playing at his lips. “I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks,” he says, his voice soft. “Feels like I’ve known you… longer.”

You nod, feeling your heart race at the sincerity in his eyes. “I know what you mean,” you murmur, glancing down to hide your own smile. “I don’t usually… open up to people like this. But with you, it just feels easy.”

He grins, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “So you’re saying I’m easy to talk to?”

You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “Don’t get too cocky, Barnes. I’m just saying you have… potential.”

“Oh, potential, huh?” he teases, giving you a mock-hurt look. “Wow. Just when I thought I was doing well.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling a lightness you hadn’t felt in a long time. Somehow, Bucky has a way of making you feel like yourself, like you don’t have to be anything other than exactly who you are.

As the night deepens, you both head home, reluctantly parting with lingering glances and unspoken words hanging in the air. But when you finally get home, your phone lights up with a text, and you feel a thrill run through you as you see Bucky’s name.

Bucky: So, I’m not getting cocky, but… any chance I passed the “potential” test?

You laugh, typing out a reply.

You: I’d say you’re doing okay… so far.

Almost immediately, he texts back.

Bucky: Just okay? You’re killing me here. I might have to try harder.

You: I think I can handle that.

There’s a pause, and you watch as the typing bubble pops up again, wondering what he’ll say next.

Bucky: Just so we’re clear, I’m pretty sure you’re the highlight of my day. Don’t tell anyone—I’ve got a reputation to maintain.

You feel your cheeks warm, smiling at your phone. It’s strange how quickly he’s managed to find his way into your heart, and even stranger how natural it feels to be talking to him like this.

You: Highlight of your day, huh? That’s some big talk, Barnes.

Bucky: It’s not just talk, sweet girl....I mean it.

You pause, taking in the sincerity of his words. For a second, you wonder if he can feel the same pull you do, the same feeling that this could be something real.

You: Guess I’ll see what you come up with next time.

Bucky: Oh, so now I’m being challenged? I’ll have to think of something special.

You: Good luck with that, I’m a tough critic.

Bucky: Challenge accepted, darling.

His use of the word “darling” sends a thrill through you, and you feel yourself blush, biting your lip as you smile at the screen. The lighthearted back-and-forth carries on into the night, each text feeling like another step closer to something you’re both tiptoeing around, something you’re both afraid to fully acknowledge yet.

And as you finally say goodnight, you feel a contented warmth settle over you, the kind that promises there’s something real here, something waiting to unfold. But for now, the unspoken words, the quiet glances, and the sweet, flirty texts are more than enough, leaving you falling asleep with a smile on your face.

One night, you’re both walking through a nearby park, the cool evening air wrapping around you. It’s late enough that the world feels almost empty, like the two of you are the only ones who know this quiet part of the city. You’re talking about your favorite childhood movies, laughing over memories, and you feel a lightness in you, a happiness that’s been dormant for so long you’d nearly forgotten it was there.

“So you’re telling me,” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow as he glances over at you, “that you actually dressed up as an elf for three Halloweens in a row because of Lord of the Rings?”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. “Yes! I was obsessed. It was all I wanted to do for years. I think I had pointy ears stashed in every drawer.”

Bucky grins, his eyes twinkling. “I can’t believe I missed out on that... bet you made a cute elf.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, trying to stifle a laugh. “It was… an intense phase. I still cringe a little thinking about it.”

“I don’t know,” he says, nudging you playfully. “I think it sounds perfect. I used to dress up as a knight when I was a kid. One time, I even convinced Steve to be the dragon.”

You laugh, picturing a younger version of him, full of life and laughter. “Please tell me there’s photographic evidence of that.”

“There might be,” he teases, smirking. “But I think you’re going to have to stick around a little longer before I start sharing the embarrassing childhood photos.”

Something in his tone, playful yet sincere, makes your heart skip a beat. You realize how much you look forward to these moments, how he’s become a part of your life in a way you never saw coming. There’s a softness about him that pulls you in, a kindness that makes you feel safe, and the thought of seeing where this goes fills you with a quiet excitement.

You walk a bit further, the silence between you comfortable, and he glances over, a question lingering in his eyes. “So,” he starts, a little hesitant. “Are you… happy here? I mean, you said you needed a change. Do you feel like this is it?”

You think about his question, about how you arrived here hoping to find a fresh start, not knowing if it would ever feel like home. But now, as you stand beside him, there’s a sense of belonging that surprises you.

“Honestly?” you say, your voice soft. “I think I am. It’s strange, but being here… it’s like I can breathe again. Like maybe I can finally be myself, without all the expectations I left behind.”

Bucky nods, his expression thoughtful, and he stops walking for a moment, turning to face you. “I’m glad,” he says quietly, his gaze holding yours. “You deserve that. You deserve… to feel free.”

His words sink into you, and for a moment, all you can do is look at him, taking in the gentleness in his eyes, the warmth in his smile. It’s almost too much—the idea that someone could see you this clearly, understand you so deeply.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

He reaches out, brushing his fingers against yours in a simple, tender gesture. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I’m just glad I get to know you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his words that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re both standing there, the world around you quiet and still. You want to say something, to let him know how much he’s come to mean to you, how his presence feels like a light that’s brought you back to yourself. But the words catch in your throat, so instead, you simply squeeze his hand, letting the warmth of his touch speak for you.

----

Another evening, you’re both sitting on a small bench at the edge of the park, looking up at the stars. Bucky has his arm around you, pulling you close against the chill of the night, and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling a peace you haven’t felt in years.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, his voice soft, as though he’s been thinking about the question for a while.

You’re quiet for a moment, surprised by the question. You used to avoid thinking about the future, unsure of where you fit in, always second-guessing yourself. But now, with him, the idea of the future doesn’t feel as daunting.

“Yeah,” you say finally. “I do. But it’s different now. I guess… I’m not so afraid of it anymore.”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. He hesitates, glancing over at you. “I know we’re just… starting this, whatever it is, but I hope you know that I’m here, for all of it. I don’t… plan on going anywhere.”

The sincerity in his words makes you catch your breath, and you feel that familiar warmth rising in your chest, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. You don’t say anything, instead reaching up to brush a gentle hand against his cheek, letting him know that you feel the same, even if the words are still forming in your heart.

As the night deepens, you sit there in a comfortable silence, his arm around you, his steady presence grounding you. And as you look up at the stars, you realize that for the first time in a long time, you’re not afraid of what lies ahead.

But yet, every time he leans a little closer, touches your hand, or tells you something vulnerable, you can’t help but feel that old anxiety creeping in, telling you to be careful. It’s as if you’re back to being a kid, watching your parents’ marriage shatter right in front of you. You’ve told yourself for years that love can’t be trusted, that letting people in only leads to pain.

---

One evening, when you’re sitting beside him at your favorite spot near the river, he reaches over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re safe with me, you know?” he says softly, sensing the hesitation in your gaze.

The words linger in the air, and you look down, feeling your defenses rise again. “I don’t think you understand,” you murmur. “People leave. Or worse, they hurt you without even meaning to.”

Bucky takes your hand, holding it gently, grounding you. “I know,” he says quietly. “But maybe… maybe you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

The river flows quietly beside you both, the soft murmur of water filling the silence between you. Bucky’s hand is still gently wrapped around yours, grounding you with a warmth that feels both comforting and unfamiliar. Part of you wants to pull away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability you feel creeping in, but there’s something about him that makes you feel safe, even when the memories are so raw.

You take a shaky breath, finally letting your eyes meet his. “My parents… they didn’t have the kind of love that you read about, or see in movies. It was messy and… destructive. They fought constantly—screaming, blaming each other for everything wrong in their lives. Growing up, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. That love was meant to hurt.”

Bucky listens intently, his expression softening as you continue, no hint of judgment in his gaze. He’s just… there, holding space for you in a way that makes you feel seen, like you don’t have to hide.

You swallow, feeling the ache of those memories resurface. “I used to tell myself that when I grew up, I’d find someone who was different. Someone who wouldn’t treat me like my father treated my mother.” Your voice drops, barely a whisper now. “But when I left home, I fell for someone who was just like him. He was… careless, selfish. I gave everything I had because I thought that was what love was. And he hurt me, Bucky, over and over, but I convinced myself it was my fault, that if I just tried harder, he’d change.”

Bucky’s grip on your hand tightens, his gaze filled with a fierce protectiveness that you didn’t expect. You can see his jaw clench, as though he’s holding back words he wants to say, but he lets you continue, giving you the space you need.

“When he finally left,” you continue, your voice breaking slightly, “I felt… empty. Like I’d failed. Everyone always leaves, and somehow, I believed it was because of something I did or something I wasn’t. For a long time, I thought I didn’t deserve anything better.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and before you can brush it away, Bucky reaches out, gently wiping it with his thumb. His touch is so tender, so careful, that it breaks something inside you, a wall you didn’t realize you were still holding up.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says softly, his voice full of conviction. “None of it. And it wasn’t your fault.”

You try to look away, the old shame rising up, but he places a gentle hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Look at me.”

You meet his gaze, and the kindness there is almost too much to bear.

“I don’t care what your past looked like,” he says, his voice steady and certain. “None of that changes how I feel about you. You are worth more than any of the pain you’ve been through. You deserve love that feels safe, that feels steady. You deserve someone who chooses you, every single day, this is worth the risk to me, you're worth it to me"

The words sink into you, healing in a way you never thought possible. His hand rests on your cheek, grounding you, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be right. That maybe love doesn’t have to hurt.

Bucky leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours, his voice a soft promise. “I’m not going anywhere. I know it’s hard to believe, and I know trust doesn’t come easy. But I want to be here for you. Every single day.”

Your eyes close, and you feel his warmth surrounding you, filling the empty spaces you’ve carried for so long. He stays close, his presence steady and unyielding, like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed.

When you finally find your voice, it’s soft, almost trembling. “How can you be so sure?”

He smiles, a gentle, understanding smile that melts every last piece of fear you’re holding onto. “Because I know what it’s like to feel broken. And I also know that finding someone who understands, who sees you for who you really are… that’s worth everything.”

In that moment, you feel a shift inside you, a glimmer of hope where there used to be only fear. Bucky is everything you thought you’d never find—kind, patient, willing to fight for you even when you’re not sure you can fight for yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down your cheek, but this time it’s not one of sadness. It’s the relief of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you’re not alone anymore.

“I don’t know if I know how to love like that,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s hand gently trails down to your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet his. “Then we’ll learn together,” he says softly, his gaze filled with a warmth and patience that takes your breath away. “One day at a time.”

And as he pulls you into his arms, holding you close against the quiet backdrop of the river, you let yourself believe that this—this love, this kindness, this man—might just be the home you’ve been searching for all along..

You stay there together by the river, wrapped in the warmth of Bucky’s arms as the soft murmur of the water flows beside you. His steady heartbeat under your cheek is calming, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the safety of the moment. It’s as if time has slowed, like the world has paused just for the two of you, letting you both breathe.

After a while, he pulls back slightly, enough to look down at you, his hand still resting gently against your cheek. There’s a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability that mirrors your own, as if he’s waiting for just the right moment.

His thumb traces a soft line along your cheek, and he hesitates, as though he’s searching for the right words. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his voice low and steady, full of a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“Will you do me the honor,” he begins, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, “of being mine, darling?”

The question hangs in the air, his words so simple yet carrying so much weight, so much love. You feel the familiar urge to pull back, to put up your defenses, but with Bucky standing there, his gaze unwavering, you realize that you don’t want to run anymore. Not from him.

A warmth spreads through you, a quiet happiness that feels like it’s been waiting for this moment all along. You meet his gaze, feeling every ounce of his love and devotion, and you realize that, with him, you don’t have to be afraid. Not of love, not of loss—because he’s here, and he’s choosing you.

With a soft, shaky breath, you nod, a smile breaking across your face as you whisper, “Yes, Bucky. I’m yours.”

A look of pure joy lights up his face, and he pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as he lets out a relieved laugh, as if he’s been waiting for this moment as long as you have. His hand cups the back of your neck, and he murmurs softly, his voice full of warmth and certainty, “I'm not going anywhere ever, your stuck with me angel"

He leans in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips, and in that moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other, and you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

As he pulls you back into his arms, holding you close against the night, you know that this—this love, this connection, this man—is home. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe love doesn’t have to hurt; maybe it can be kind, steady, and true.

---

Over the next few months, Bucky weaves his way into every part of your life, becoming as familiar and comforting as home itself. He’s there for all of it—the quiet, mundane moments, the small victories, and the heavy days when the past creeps in and weighs on you. It’s as if he knows exactly when to be there, a steady presence who never asks more of you than you’re ready to give.

One day, after a long day, you find yourself curled up on the couch with him, your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both wrapped in a comfortable silence, but he can sense that something’s weighing on you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, his fingers trailing soothingly along your arm. He doesn’t push, just leaves the door open, giving you the choice.

You hesitate for a moment, the familiar fear creeping in, but with him, it��s easier to let down your guard. You take a breath, leaning into his warmth as you begin to speak.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever stop carrying all of it with me,” you admit softly. “My parents… their anger was everywhere. They’d go from silence to shouting, always blaming each other. As a kid, I used to hide in my room, but I could still feel it, like their anger was seeping through the walls.”

Bucky’s hand stills, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you. He doesn’t interrupt, just listens, his eyes filled with a quiet empathy that makes it easier to continue.

“I used to think it was normal, that that was just… how love looked. Chaotic, painful. When I got older, I started building walls, just to keep people at a distance. It felt safer that way.”

He nods, squeezing your hand gently. “That must have been so hard,” he says quietly, his voice laced with understanding. “To grow up thinking that’s all there was to love.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “I know it sounds strange, but I thought maybe I’d somehow inherited that anger, that chaos. Like… if I let anyone close, it would just repeat. That I’d end up hurting them, or they’d hurt me.”

Bucky’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, turning so that he’s fully facing you, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek. “You’re not them,” he whispers, his voice steady and sure. “And you don’t have to carry their mistakes.”

The kindness in his eyes, the unwavering gentleness, makes you feel like a knot is loosening in your chest. You hadn’t realized how heavy those fears had become, how deeply they’d settled into you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “For being here. For listening.”

“Always,” he says, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

On a lighter day, Bucky’s there for your small victories, too, celebrating them as if they’re his own. You remember a Friday afternoon, when you’d finally completed a major project at work, one you’d been stressing over for weeks. You’d texted him, excited but exhausted, and by the time you got home, you found him standing in your kitchen with a bottle of champagne and a cake with “You did it!” iced onto it in wobbly, uneven letters.

“You did all this… for me?” you ask, laughing as you read the words on the cake.

“Of course,” he says, grinning as he pops the cork on the champagne. “You’ve been working so hard, and I thought you deserved a little celebration.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of his joy for you radiate through the room. “You know, no one’s ever celebrated something like this with me before.”

“Well,” he says, pouring two glasses and handing you one, “then it’s about time someone did, and in honoured it gets to be me"

You clink glasses, and as you take a sip, you realize just how much he’s become part of your life, filling the empty spaces you’d once thought would always be there.

You sip the champagne, feeling the bubbles dance on your tongue as you look at Bucky, the warmth of the moment settling over you like a blanket. He’s watching you with that easy, genuine smile, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. You’d been working so hard, pouring everything you had into that project, and it was like he knew exactly how much you needed someone to see you, to be there, to celebrate this small victory with you.

“Really,” you say, setting down your glass and shaking your head with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you did all of this… for me. The cake, the champagne… It’s so thoughtful.”

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his eyes. “You deserve it. I know how hard you’ve been working.” He glances at the cake, chuckling a little. “Even if the cake looks like it was made by a five-year-old.”

“It’s perfect,” you say, a laugh escaping you as you look at the uneven letters again, and he grins, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his eyes.

Over the past few weeks, he’s taken to saying those three words to you—quietly, simply, as if he’s known them all along. It usually happens in those gentle moments, the ones that sneak up on you and make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. The first time he’d said it, you’d felt the words catch in your throat, and he’d squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“It’s okay,” he’d whispered. “You don’t have to say it back. I just… wanted you to know.”

And he’s been true to his word, never pressuring you, never expecting more than you’re ready to give. He says it without hesitation, as though his love for you is as natural as breathing, and each time, it feels like another piece of the armor around your heart softens. You’ve been holding those words close, letting them settle, and tonight, with him standing here in your kitchen, celebrating you, it’s like they’re finally ready to take flight.

You take a breath, setting your glass down and looking at him, really looking at him. He’s so patient, so steady, just waiting for you to be ready, and in that moment, the words slip out, simple and true.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

For a moment, he looks surprised, his eyes widening just slightly. Then a slow, radiant smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a soft, relieved laugh, like he’s been holding onto a breath he didn’t realize he’d taken.

“Yeah?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, and there’s a gentleness in his gaze that makes your heart feel like it’s glowing.

You nod, a warmth blooming in your chest as you watch him, feeling the weight of those words sink in, wrapping around the two of you. “Yeah,” you say softly. “I love you.”

He takes a step closer, reaching out to take your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in that familiar way that makes you feel safe, cherished. He doesn’t say anything else—he doesn’t have to. The way he looks at you, like you’re the most precious thing in his world, says it all.

You stand there together, the sound of quiet laughter and clinking glasses filling the air, and as you look into his eyes, you know this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

---

One night, over a year after that moment by the river, you’re sitting on the back porch with him, wrapped in a blanket as you watch the stars. It’s quiet, peaceful, and he has his arm around you, pulling you close as you lean into him.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, breaking the silence.

“Anything,” he replies, his voice soft.

“Do you ever… I don’t know… feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?” you ask, the vulnerability of the question catching in your throat. “Like things are too good, and maybe it won’t last?”

He’s quiet for a moment, as if he’s considering your words, and then he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I used to,” he admits. “But then I realized that waiting for something to go wrong just robs you of all the good things you’ve got right here, right now.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. He has a way of grounding you, of making the fears that once felt so overwhelming seem smaller, more manageable.

“Look,” he says, pulling back slightly so he can look into your eyes, “I know you still have walls up baby, I know you’ve been through things I can’t even imagine. But none of that changes how I feel about you. You’re it for me sweet heart"

The sincerity in his eyes makes your heart race, and you feel that familiar warmth, that sense of safety you’ve come to cherish with him. You open your mouth to respond, but he reaches out, crashes his lips to yours, as his lips meet yours, everything else fades away. The quiet of the night, the cool breeze, the blanket wrapped around you both—none of it matters except the feel of him, warm and steady and here. His hand cradles the back of your head, gentle yet certain, as if he’s savoring this moment just as much as you are. There’s a tender urgency in the way he kisses you, a depth of feeling that words could never fully capture.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you find yourself letting go, allowing the barriers you’ve held up for so long to slip away. In his arms, every lingering fear, every shadow of doubt feels smaller, quieter. He’s the one constant you never thought you’d find, and here, beneath the blanket of stars, you feel safe enough to let him see all of you.

You run your hands along his shoulders, feeling the strength there, the solidity, as if to reassure yourself that he’s real, that he’s yours. He senses the hesitation in your touch and gently deepens the kiss, pouring his own quiet reassurance into each soft brush of his lips against yours. He’s unhurried, savoring the closeness, the warmth shared between you, as if he has all the time in the world.

When you finally pull back to catch your breath, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft and full of that familiar warmth that’s always steadied you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering as he looks at you, his gaze tender and unguarded.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp. “I hope you know that.”

Your heart swells, and you can’t help but reach up, your fingers tracing his jaw, memorizing the lines of his face. “I do,” you whisper, smiling as you take in the love shining in his eyes. “And you’re everything to me, too.”

The moment is gentle, intimate, a quiet affirmation of all that you’ve come to mean to each other. As the night drifts on, you find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging soft kisses and whispered promises, the world around you falling away until it’s just you and him, together in the safe haven you’ve created.

---

It isn’t until months later, on a quiet afternoon in your small apartment, that you realize how much he’s changed you. You’re both in the kitchen, making dinner, when he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. In that moment, feeling the solid warmth of him, something inside you finally softens, and you feel that long-buried fear of love start to melt away.

Turning around to face him, you look into his eyes, your heart pounding but steady. “You’re… you’re home,” you say softly, finally daring to voice the truth you’ve been feeling for so long.

Bucky smiles, and it’s the warmest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “And so are you,” he murmurs, brushing a gentle kiss across your forehead. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

As you lean into him, you feel a deep sense of peace—a peace that tells you love doesn’t have to be perfect to be real, that sometimes, it’s okay to let yourself be someone else’s. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that you can be loved without fear.

In his arms, you know that no matter where life takes you, he’ll always be there, steady as ever, reminding you every day that you’re his, and he’s yours.

The soft simmering of the pot on the stove fades into the background as you hold each other in the kitchen, wrapped in a quiet warmth that feels like it’s seeped into every corner of your life together. The room is filled with the comforting scent of herbs and spices, but all you can focus on is him—his arms around you, his steady breathing, the familiar warmth of his presence.

You look up at him, and there’s a softness in his eyes, a light you’ve come to recognize as the kind of love that expects nothing but offers everything.

“I don’t know if I tell you this enough,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently along your back. “But you… you make me feel whole. Like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

His words settle over you like a balm, soothing any lingering fear you still carry. There’s a deep sincerity in his gaze, a warmth that has become your comfort, your safety. You feel your heart swell, a surge of gratitude that he’s here, that he chose you even with all the jagged edges you thought would push people away.

“Bucky,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d find this. Find… you.”

He smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to trust me. But you’re everything I ever wanted… everything I never thought I deserved.”

You laugh softly, the sound breaking through the quiet as you realize how much he’s come to mean to you, how he’s become the constant in your life, the calm in your storms. “You deserve all of it, love....Every bit of happiness there is.”

His eyes soften, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, lingering as if he’s savoring the moment, as if he’s savoring you. “Then stay with me,” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. “For as long as we have�� let’s make this our forever.”

Your heart races as his words sink in, and you feel a warmth bloom within you, a peace that you’ve only known with him. The future, once clouded by fear and doubt, now feels open, full of possibility, and you realize that with him, you’re no longer afraid of what lies ahead.

You take his hands in yours, feeling the roughness of his palms, the strength that’s always there, supporting you. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, looking up into his eyes. “I’m yours, Bucky. Completely.”

He smiles, a look of relief mixed with pure joy lighting up his face, and he pulls you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he holds you like he never intends to let go.

“I’ll remind you of that every day,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice a soft promise. “You’re mine. And I love you… more than I could ever put into words.”

In that quiet moment, held close in his arms, you feel it—this deep, steady love that you never believed could be yours. And you know, as long as you have him, you are finally, truly home.

Bucky’s arms wrap around you a little tighter, pulling you closer, and in his embrace, you feel every ounce of love and devotion he’s offered you so freely. His hands rest at the small of your back, gentle but firm, grounding you. The simmering sounds from the stove fade into the background as he holds you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in this shared moment.

He dips his head, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that’s unhurried, tender, but filled with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His hand moves to cradle your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your jawline, a soft reverence in his touch, like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

You feel the roughness of his palms as his hands settle along your waist, his fingers splaying across your back, drawing you even closer. The air between you feels charged, a steady, simmering warmth that’s both comforting and thrilling. You let your fingers trail up his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth there, feeling safe and cherished.

“Bucky,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean into him, pressing soft kisses along his jawline, savoring the way his breathing hitches ever so slightly at your touch.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. “You’re everything,” he whispers, his forehead resting gently against yours as he closes his eyes, breathing you in. “Everything I never knew I could have.”

---

A few months later, everything feels like it’s slipping out of your hands. Work is stressful, you’ve hardly had a moment to yourself let alone with Bucky, and the anxieties that you thought you’d buried start creeping back in, tainting every small moment of happiness with doubt. Bucky notices, of course. He’s always paying attention, always picking up on the little things.

After a long, exhausting day, you come home and find him waiting for you in your small, cluttered living room. He’s made dinner, and the smell of pasta fills the apartment, a small act of love that you know he did just to make you feel better.

But instead of feeling grateful, all you feel is overwhelmed.

As you set your bag down, you glance at him, trying to ignore the pressure building in your chest. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended. “I don’t need you to take care of me all the time, i can do it myself!"

He blinks, taken aback by the edge in your tone. “I know you can baby, ” he says carefully. “I just wanted to make things a little easier tonight"

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t need you to!” you snap, unable to hold back the frustration boiling over inside. “I’m fine on my own....I’ve always been fine on my own!"

Bucky’s face falls, and he sets down the plate he was holding, his gaze steady but pained. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks quietly.

You don’t know how to answer, not when everything feels so confusing and raw. “Maybe… maybe we were a mistake,” you murmur, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Maybe we got too close too fast.”

His jaw clenches, hurt flashing across his face. “Do you really mean that?” His voice is low, almost breaking. “Or are you just scared?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut, because he’s right. You are scared—scared of getting hurt, scared of being vulnerable, and scared of what it means to love someone so deeply. And yet, instead of admitting it, you double down, pushing him further away.

“What if I am scared, Bucky?” you snap, crossing your arms. “Maybe I don’t want to put myself through this. People always leave, and were in so deep! I, I’m just—” You stop, your voice catching as the memories of your parents’ fights come rushing back, the anger, the silence, the way love had turned to something dark and painful.

Bucky steps forward, his expression softened but resolute. “I’m not your Father, we're not your parents” he says, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m not going to walk away just because things get hard.”

You turn away, trying to hide the tears that have started to well up. “How can you say that? You don’t know… what it was like.”

He takes a breath, his hand reaching out to yours, fingers warm and steady around yours. “Then tell me,” he says, his voice steady but full of emotion. “Help me understand, so I can be here for you the way you need.”

The walls you’ve built around your heart feel like they’re crumbling, and you struggle to keep them in place, to hold onto the safety they give you. But Bucky’s still there, holding your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

With a shaky breath, you finally let go, everything you've been keeping inside for the last couple weeks pours out of you, your eyes like waterfalls. Bucky has his arms wrapped around faster than you could wipe your tears away. His grip firm, as he rubs circles on your back. Holding you close, and you feel the weight of his presence, grounding you, filling the empty spaces with a warmth you were about to let yourself lose.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs softly, his fingers brushing soothingly along your back. “No matter how scared you get, I’m here. You’re not alone, you’re worth it, i promise angel”

You pull back, looking up at him, feeling the truth of his words sink into you. The fear is still there, lingering around the edges, but somehow it feels smaller now, less overwhelming.

As you hold his gaze, you realize that this—this moment, where you’re both standing on the edge of your fears and still choosing each other—is what love is meant to be. It’s not about perfection or never fighting. It’s about standing together, even when things get messy, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean it, ant of it Bucky I’m just… scared of losing you.”

He smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Then hold onto me,” he says softly “Because I’m not letting you go"

---

Bucky has been working long hours lately, pulling extra shifts and coming home exhausted. You’ve noticed how he’s barely had a moment to breathe, how he comes home later every night, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he falls onto the couch. You’ve asked him if everything’s okay, and every time, he just smiles, brushes a kiss across your forehead, and says he’s fine, just a little busy.

What you don’t know is that Bucky’s been saving up for something big, something he’s been dreaming about since the day he realized he couldn’t imagine a life without you. He’s been setting aside every extra dollar to buy you a ring, one that feels worthy of you. But between work and stress, his nerves are stretched thin, and even though he tries to be patient, exhaustion is starting to get the better of him.

You come home from work and find him in the kitchen, staring blankly at a half-prepared dinner, his face worn and tired. You reach out to touch his arm, concerned. “Bucky, you don’t have to do everything, you know. I could’ve picked something up.”

He doesn’t look at you, just sighs, his voice tense. “I’m fine doll, I can handle it.”

You press a little further, sensing something beneath his words. “Are you sure? You’ve been so… distant lately. I just feel like we barely talk anymore.”

Bucky’s shoulders stiffen, and he glances over at you, a flicker of frustration in his gaze. “I don’t get why you’re always questioning me,” he snaps, voice sharper than usual. “I’m here, aren’t I? It’s not like I’m going anywhere, i've told you"

You flinch at his words, feeling a familiar ache settle in your chest. “I’m not… I just don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’m not shutting you out, alright? Not everything has to be a big deal.”

The words feel dismissive, and something inside you snaps, the old fears rising up. “I just… I need to know what’s going on, Bucky, you know this, I-I....You say you’re here, but it doesn’t feel like it right now, It’s like you’re already halfway gone already..."

The moment you say it, his expression changes, a spark of hurt flashing across his face. “Are you serious?” he asks, his tone suddenly defensive. “I’ve been working myself to the bone for us, trying to make things better. I’m here every night, putting in the effort, and you’re just waiting for me to mess up. Waiting for an excuse to push me away! "

Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “That’s not fair,” you say, voice trembling. “You know why I have a hard time trusting people, why I get scared. You’re the one who made me feel safe again. And now it’s like… it’s like you’re proving me right.”

He looks away, jaw clenched, but the frustration and exhaustion finally get the better of him. “Maybe I don’t know how to prove it to you, then,” he mutters, anger shading his words. “I don’t know what more you need from me!"

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and suddenly the air feels too thick, the walls of your house are suddenly too close. Without thinking, you grab your coat, needing to escape the pain before it breaks you completely.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you, the anger giving way to worry as he realizes you’re actually leaving. “It’s 2:30AM! Y-you cant just walk out!

You pause at the door, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look back at him, the hurt and fear finally spilling over“I’m leaving before you leave me,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “I told you would! Everyone always does.”

With that, you slip out the door, stepping into the quiet, empty street. You start walking, the chill of the night biting into your skin as you try to hold back the tears. The memory of his words lingers, replaying in your mind, amplifying every insecurity you’ve ever felt.

But then you hear footsteps behind you, and before you can turn, Bucky’s voice reaches you, a soft, desperate sound. “Wait, Baby please, just… stop for a second"

You hesitate, swallowing down the sob that’s caught in your throat as he steps closer, his face a mix of regret and something you can’t name. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, his voice breaking slightly, his own tears spilling over “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You take a shaky breath, your voice full of the hurt you can’t hide. “You’re right, though. I don’t know how to believe you’ll stay. I can’t get rid of this feeling that you’ll change your mind.”

He closes the gap between you, his gaze softening as he reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice gentle, grounding. “I’m not going anywhere. You know why I’ve been working so much?”

You shake your head, your mind still reeling.

He lets out a deep breath, pulling something from his pocket, a small, worn ring box. “This...This is why I’ve been putting in those hours. Because I want to be with you, forever....For good.”

You stare at the box in his hand, the realization washing over you like a wave. Bucky steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been saving up to buy you a ring. Because all I want is a life with you. No running, no more fears. Just us...till death do us part and all..."

The words sink in, and your heart feels like it’s breaking open and mending at the same time. “Bucky, I… I didn’t know.”

“I know, you weren't suppose to sweet girl” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. “I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. I was just… scared, too. Scared that maybe you’d never really believe I’d stay or be too scared to stay yourself.."

You cling to him, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you, grounding you. For the first time, you let yourself feel the truth in his words, the steady, unyielding love he’s shown you all along.

As he holds you in the quiet of the night, you finally feel something shift deep inside, a sense of peace replacing the old fears. And as you look up into his blue eyes, you know, without a doubt, that this is what home looks like.

Bucky holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as you both stand on the empty street, the quiet stillness of the night surrounding you. You can feel the steady beat of his heart as he holds you, each thump anchoring you back into the moment, reminding you of everything he’s done to show you he’s here to stay.

After a few moments, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft and full of a warmth that nearly takes your breath away. He glances down at the small ring box in his hand, then back up at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I was planning this whole big thing, you know,” he says, a soft laugh escaping him as he looks at you, his eyes bright with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. “A perfect night, the right words… I wanted it to be special. Because you deserve that, you deserve everything.”

Your breath catches, your eyes filling with tears again, but this time they’re tears of joy, of a hope that’s finally free of the shadows that used to hold you back.

“But somehow,” he continues, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek, “this feels right. Standing here with you, just… us, no walls, no fears.”

Slowly, Bucky lowers himself down onto one knee, opening the small ring box to reveal a simple but beautiful ring that catches the glow of the streetlight. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“I know we’ve both been through a lot, and I know we’ve still got our fears,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, each word carrying the weight of everything he feels. “But there’s no one else I’d rather face them with. You’re it for me. You’re my home, my everything.”

He takes a steadying breath, his gaze unwavering as he holds the ring up to you. “Will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m never going to leave?”

You feel the tears spill over, but this time you don’t bother wiping them away. Nodding, you barely manage to whisper, the easiest words you ever said before “Yes...Yes, Bucky, I’ll marry you"

A bright smile breaks across his face as he slips the ring onto your finger, then rises to his feet, pulling you back into his arms. He kisses you softly, a lingering kiss filled with every unspoken promise between you "I love you Bucky Barnes"

As he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, a smile playing on his lips. "And I love you, forever" he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and certainty. “You’re the best thing that's ever been mine,”

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helianthus-tarot · 6 months ago

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SELF: What do you need to know the most about your life dream

This is more about a big dream that you have, not really about just a random goal. Think of your specific dream and choose a pile. I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes more details!: potential success if you pursue this dream, practical actions that can help increase the likelihood of success, what sabotages this dream? 🧐📝🔥

Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here

Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

Like my readings? Tip here!

PILE 1

What do you need to know the most: Justice, The Chariot, Page of Wands, The Star.

You are meant to be drawn to this path. For some of you, it’s not necessarily that it's been fated for you since the beginning of time, but it may be the logical result or outcome of what you have been through. There are many paths that are possible for you, but what you have experienced in life so far (or a certain life experience) has made you notice or get drawn to this path in particular; it’ll make sense if you take a step back and look at it. For some of you, especially if you have been trying so hard (could be related to this dream or just your life in general), this dream may actually be a reward for your persistence. It may also be something that ties to your sense of empowerment; maybe it reminds you of your control over your life, of your persistence and determination, maybe it gives you hope and keeps you believing in a better future. When you engage in the pursuit of this dream/goal, you may find yourself easily inspired by it, excited and curious. It ignites passion in you.

I’m not sure what dream this is but if you pursue it, it may end up putting you in a situation or a path where you will use and share the life lessons that you’ve learned; you may end up feeling called or being in a position where you can speak your truth, share your insights and understandings. Which can have an effect of making people aware of those truths. I don’t want to use the word ‘teaching�� because it can sound like a saviour complex, but people may get enlightened by what you share, and some of them may find healing from it. You will too, I think it can be a form of healing for you as well. For some of you this may also involve the themes of justice, fairness, balance, understanding cause-and-effects, interconnectivity of the universe and everything in it, the spirit and the mind.

There’s also a wealth of inspiration that can be gained if you pursue this dream. You will probably never lack inspiration, ideas, insights or understandings. It may also help you keep your mind sharp, your soul optimistic, peaceful yet brave and determined. The dream/goal may require tenacity however, it may require you to keep your eye on the prize. The beginning is always the hardest, especially when it involves mastering skills. But once you’ve mastered the skills, that’s when you can play around, explore and experiment. So the possibility of being able to have fun is here in the cards, you just have to keep pushing through.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Will you be successful if you pursue this dream? What specific actions can you take to increase the likelihood of success? And what exactly sabotages your dream? Find out here! 🧐📝🔥

PILE 2

What do you need to know the most: The Star, King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups (The Tower), 3 of Cups, The Emperor.

Similar to the previous pile, you are probably meant to feel drawn to this path. But it’s clearer for this pile that this dream/goal is something that truly resonates with you; it’s a soul desire. For some of you it’s tied to what you have been envisioning for yourself, or what you have been wishing for. This dream may also be something that you feel drawn to or realise you are interested in after you went through some kind of upheaval in your life. This next message is supposed to be in the next section, but it comes up here; there’s a strong potential of success. This is something that can stay in your life if you pursue it, or it’s something that can have a lifelong impact on your life; the effects and gains will stay with you. I think you have all the resources and skills that you need to make this dream or goal happen. For some of you, there's someone who can help you (they have the resources that you need); this may be an older man, but it could simply be an earth sign/influenced person who’s mature or in a position of power.

For others of you, this is a dream/goal that you’ve been building yourself for; maybe you have learned a lot of skills, or have built your life in a way that allows you to pursue this dream, and the message here is that it’s working for you, it does help make things more stable or solid, which gives you the ability to pursue this dream. Pursuing this dream will lead to a stable life, materially and emotionally. This dream may also involve other people in some way. Either it will lead you to interact with a community or a group of people, or it will lead to you finding your own community or a group of friends who support and celebrate you and what you do. This dream/goal will lead to more relationships, not necessarily romantic. So it can also lead to an emotionally fulfilling life, you’ll build better relationships if you pursue this dream; especially if you have experienced a lot of problems or unpleasant revelations in your connections with people.

For a few of you, pursuing this dream can also lead to intense emotional experiences, though I’m not getting bad energy from this, so they are probably not toxic, just maybe very revealing and awakening. Pursuing this dream may require you to be stubborn and quietly persistent. The dream just overall feels like... it’s something within your grasp. Some of you may end up being an authority in your field; or you may end up being the master, mentor, or someone powerful or highly regarded in this field; maybe people will look up to you or ask for advice from you especially if they have the same dream or goal. If this is related to an industry; your name could end up being known in that industry. You have a potential to attain or build a strong presence in your field.

PILE 3

What do you need to know the most: Ace of Wands, 7 of Pentacles, The Magician, 2 of Swords.

Many of you may be doubting this dream/goal. Some of you aren’t confident in your skills or ability to make it happen; some of you are torn between two or several different paths. It feels like, you want it but at the same time, because you are doubting yourself, you think you should take another path instead, because that path seems better or more realistic for you. Your internal dilemma is probably just a part of the process, see it as an opportunity to look deeper into yourself; and if you look deeper, you may find the answer you’re looking for, you may end up finding the passion that can end up making you feel braver and determined about this dream. You may need to get in touch with that fire, that passion and ride it, let it motivates and drives you forward despite your doubts and uncertainty.

Some of you are doubting this dream because it takes a lot of work to be successful, or at least you think so. You think it requires a lot from you, and you aren’t sure if you want to commit to that. I can’t tell you to commit and walk on this path if you don’t want to; but you know that quote, “anything worth having don't come easy”, so that may be the case here. You have your choice, of course. Because this dream may require you to put in the work; but with The Magician here as well, I think you can actually do it. You have the skills that you need, or the talent that can lead to you mastering the skills needed to make this dream a reality. This dream may require you to be creative, or to think outside the box, to dare to experiment and mix different things, methods, steps, and see what you can come up with. It does require confidence, specifically the audacity (lol) to believe there’s value in what you do; because The Magician also seems like arrogant brilliance to me lol, so like a genius believing in their speculation/theory and working hard to prove it, even if it looks kinda silly and lowkey insane to other people.

If you pursue this dream, there may times when things seem like they aren’t moving, or there may be times when you feel like you can’t make it work; but you are encouraged to lean back into The Magician energy. Either believe in your ability and keep trying, or see if there's anything you can change and improve; this may require a creative approach. The dream may take time to come to fruition, so if you decide to pursue it, you may need to stay in touch with the burning passion that makes you want to take this path. Some days motivation may not be enough, some days you may need discipline and consistency. But again, like I said, you’ve got what it takes to make your dream a reality. Don’t overthink it. I’m not getting other messages for you. I think your main problem is your doubt, it feels like you keep mulling it over and feel discouraged and bored by it.

PILE 4

What do you need to know the most: The Emperor, Page of Wands, The Moon, The Hermit Rx (10 of Wands), 9 of Wands.

For some of you, this is less about your dream and more about your situation. You may have chosen a path that you initially thought was the right one for you; but you’ve had to struggle a lot to make it work, and perhaps you’re wondering if it’s indeed the right one for you. There’s no straightforward answer to that question in the cards, you may need to look within and determine the subconscious factors that have influenced your decision. It could have something to do with your father, your paternal influence, or your tradition. It could be coming from the need to be strong for yourself, for example, subconsciously you think this is the only path forward because you need to be strong for yourself and do what needs to be done. For some of you, this message may be completely unrelated to the dream you are asking about in this PAC. For others of you, it is related.

Anyway, let’s get into the dream itself. This dream may be a life lesson. I mean, if you pursue this dream, you could end up learning and growing but there’s also a possibility that you’ll find a different thing at the end of this journey. I don’t want to say the dream is not meant for you, because this sounds so fatalistic, anything is possible if you really want something. But this does feel like a path that people take and then end up realising that it’s not for them, but they still learn from it and their soul is still transformed by it. That’s what this dream feels like. The dream/goal feels like a way for you to grow. You have a choice not to take this path, there is a possibility that you can get the same growth on a different path, maybe it’ll be more palatable or easier, who knows. The dream we’re talking about here may involve things that can potentially trigger your wounds, or touch your wounds in some way. It’ll make you look within and learn. So at times, it may feel difficult and painful.

Some of you are being encouraged to explore other possibilities; you don’t have to immediately commit yourself to something, just lightly explore your options, look further than what’s in front of you, consider what ifs, entertain other things or paths that draw you in and see if it's something you are interested in pursuing. Even if you end up choosing this dream anyway, maybe those other things can make you feel more optimistic or energised about your dream. Curiosity and inspiration may be the key that holds your answer or the things that can lead you to your answer. You can also get back in touch with your inner child; for some of you, the answer is in your childhood interest/passion, or what inspired you when you were young. Some of you may want to do some shadow work or introspection before you continue with this dream; because some of your decisions may be highly influenced by your wounds; i.e. you make a certain decision because you want to avoid something, or because you want to fulfil a need that can actually be fulfilled in another, better way.

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot readers #tarot community #divination #pick a picture #free tarot readings #pick an image #free tarot #pac #spirituality #spiritual growth #shadow work #success #dreams #self improvement

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anancientlegacy · 11 days ago

Text

you'll never guess -- s. sallow

Pairing: sebastian sallow x reader

Genre: fluff, some angst with reader's father, but that's all

Note: I use “MC” to refer to the reader, but I also explain why in the fic itself! This is still in fifth year even before the player meets Anne, so they don’t do anything crazy. Merely mentions of kissing. Sassy Sebastian and sassier Imelda.

Trope: Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating.

Word count: 2.2k

Crossposted to ao3!

“Hey, Garreth, Ominis, the lot of you that have only grown up in the wizarding world, I’ve got a question.”

It’s the first words you’ve spoken to everyone around you, your entire friend group sprawled or stretched out on one side of the summoner’s court. All of you have been watching Samantha and Leander make a go of it, over and over and over again — you don’t always have positive things to say about Prewett, but you can’t help but acknowledge his tenacity. Samantha’s final Accio resounds all around you, cutting through the air as she pulls her ball in for another 50 points, blowing her opponent out of the water despite having won the game by her second ball.

“You can say purebloods, MC, it won’t hurt any feelings.” You know Leander doesn’t mean anything by this — you’ve heard Zenobia call him a “no-talent moonmind” in passing — but you can feel Ominis bristle beside you at the mere implication of an impending blood status discussion. You’re quick to shake your head, muttering a ‘no, not exactly what I meant’ while rummaging through your newly-sewn bag (one made up entirely of garments you’d found no use for, because really, what use is a fedora to anyone) for something. Professor Weasley had helpfully enchanted it to be almost endlessly deep, but you find yourself cursing this now. The fact that everyone pauses to watch you is not lost on you at all, and you can’t help but feel some sort of embarrassment.

“All I was asking, well, really, all I’m curious about, is what wizarding world courtship is like. Do you have calling hours, or daily tea, or anything of the sort? Ah, here it is.” You brandish a marriage manual with much gusto, having received it in the mail from your otherwise heavily detached father a few days ago. You’d offhandedly mentioned accompanying Sebastian to the Three Broomsticks to him in a letter, mostly assuming he wouldn’t read it — too busy with overseeing shoddy police work in Whitechapel, and ignoring the realities of magic and whatnot — but he had, to your surprise, replied. The first response all term.

My daughter,

Do not allow yourself to be charmed by young men with no prospects. Surely I raised you better than this. I have given this infernal creature a young ladies’ guide for you to peruse. Certainly letter vi. There are girls dropping like flies here, and I would greatly dislike to find you in a similar situation.

Read it and report back. If you can send regular post rather than an owl I’d rather you that. Can’t have the neighbours asking too many questions.

You’d left the letter upstairs under your bed to gather dust, not even bothering to take it with you to the room of requirement. The idea of Sebastian having no prospects is practically laughable to you, considering he’s one of the brightest wizards in your year… even if he is, simultaneously, one of the most troublesome. Your father has been pretending as if magic is pointless at best and a silly trick at worst ever since your magical mother left him with a toddler.

You dislike him, but you suppose you’d despise her if you knew her.

Summoner’s court is all but entirely forgotten as even Samantha steps down to join the other fifth years as they fully form a gaggle around you. Amit, to everyone’s surprise, grabs the manual right out of your hands, his nosiness — which he would and does tell you is simply Ravenclaw curiosity, despite you being in the same house — overcoming all societal norms. Poppy, ever one for any sort of gossip, reads the title aloud: “Letters to Young Ladies on their Entrance into the World, to which are added sketches from real life… quite a mouthful, isn’t it?”

“Are you asking if we have these preposterous things?” For once, you can agree with Prewett’s assessment of something. Judging by the slow, rising murmur of consensus around you, everyone else is surprised by themselves for the very same reason.

“I’ve never seen something like that in my life.” Garreth tacks on to his housemate, and Ominis, never one to miss a prompting, says a swift “me neither” that brings forth a laugh from you and uneasy chuckles from those that don’t know him as well.

“My father told me to read the sixth letter about unequal marriages because I went on a date, something that seemed to single handedly convince him that my destiny is to become another Whitechapel murder victim, as if those poor girls were the reasons for their untimely demises.” You’re prattling on, you know this, but the insult of receiving the book in the first place still smarts. Natty places a hand on your shoulder, one of the few to know the true extent of your parental issues.

“That’s sort of hilarious, isn’t it?” Imelda pops up out of nowhere, sly as always, and you surmise her arduous, somewhat pointless three-hour self-inflicted flying practice must be over for the day. There really is quite a crowd gathering around you — in fact, there’s basically only one person missing.

“Hold on.” It’s Leander this time, eyes squinting as if he’s having a difficult time puzzling something out. “A date? Who’d you go on a date with?”

“She was never going to say yes to you, mate, give it up.” Imelda is quick to start fires that she knows she won’t put out herself, and the case of Prewett pursuing you, something both you and him like to pretend doesn’t exist for very different reasons, is one such thing.

“Come off it, screw off.” He fires back, the best he can come up with as everyone watches, and you so badly want to laugh but settle for turning away and taking the manual back from Amit and Poppy. As long as they’re occupied, nobody will think to follow up —

“Honestly, MC, I want to know too.” Natty breaks your overly-optimistic train of thought, and the glance you send her way is withering. You and Sebastian are still feeling things out, after all: Not too casual, not too serious. Perhaps this is the best time to let everyone know.

“Well…” You draw the word out, pulling it out into several syllables. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to tell you all without him being here. He should get a say in the reveal, too.”

The resulting group groan is pure cacophony. Poppy dreamily wonders aloud if it’s an older man, while Imelda scrunches up her face as she relays the idea of it being someone younger. Amit whines about never being in on the secret, and you suspect Natty is gearing up to silently jinx you. Even Ominis breaks his kind aloofness by shoving your shoulder in a way that makes you wonder if he really can’t see anything at all, and Garreth furrows his brows, surely wondering if he can slip veritaserum into your drink at supper. Samantha, one of your roommates, murmurs something about putting a hex on your pillow tonight.

“I see.” Leander says, too smug for your liking. “MC won’t tell us who because she isn’t actually dating anyone.”

“That’s worse for you, you git,” Imelda snaps. “Means she dislikes you so much she’ll lie about a boyfriend.”

“Goodness!” You speak again, finally incensed by everything that’s happening. Prewett never fails to put you in some sort of mood. You don’t really have room for one more secret as it is, what with everything Professor Fig and the Keepers have entrust to you, and Ranrok’s brewing rebellion. “If you really must know, really and truly, it’s Sebastian. Happy?”

Silence. Sudden and significant silence.

“Sallow?!” For once, Leander and Imelda are on the same page, their voices surprisingly harmonious together as they break the sound barrier. Garreth and Ominis both look unsurprised, though they may just be stoicists at this point. Even Poppy, who’s literally seen the two of you out at Hogsmeade together, seems taken aback.

“What have I done now?”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“My dad sent me a ladies’ manual about propriety and sorts because I told him I’d gone on a date, and this lot couldn’t handle me not saying who with.” Your shoulders untense themselves naturally,as he walks up beside you, and you swipe a spot of grease off of his nose with an index finger before wiping it back on his own robe.

“How was detention? Midday is a terrible time to serve one.”

“Sharp just had me manually cleaning cauldrons, it wasn’t the absolute worst. Incorrectly prepared Ashwinder eggs smell positively noxious, though.”

“Serves you right, frankly –”

“You’ve got to be fooling us.” It’s Amit this time, eyes wide as saucers as he interrupts you. “The two of you bicker constantly.”

“More than.” Ominis supplies, and you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting an “I felt that!” from your decreasingly dear friend.

“They fight like brother and sister.” Leander seems to be holding on to his belief in the idea that your budding relationship is merely a ruse. “Worse — they’re completely opposite each other. MC is witty and charming, and Sallow is, well… Sallow.”

“I think they’re good for each other.” Garreth shrugs. “She’s a bit of a kleptomaniac and he’s somewhat addicted to getting caught doing stupid things.”

“MC is -” Leander tries one more time at pulling something over Sebastian, or you, or both of you, but your sort-of-boyfriend decides he’s had enough and doesn’t let him finish.

“The whole lot of you only call her MC because of me, you know. I doubt you even know that it starts for ‘my charge,’ because I was put in charge of her when she first went to Hogsmeade.

“Where a troll attacked her?”

“Opposites can attract!” Poppy, ever the believer in love, chimes in before you can defend Sebastian from Leander’s latest barb. “And friends fall in love all the time. They’re both quite lovely to us and to each other when you aren’t around.” Her sweet tone is even more devastating as she aims her cutting words at Prewett.

“It’s just been a few dates.” You interject, reeling from how quickly everyone is quipping at each other, cheeks heating up at the idea of love. The school year has really only just begun — you and Sebastian just happen to get along.

“Well, a few official dates.” Sebastian knocks your shoulder with his bicep, and you look up at his teasing smile knowing full and well that it’ll just warm your face further. “Ask me why I had detention.” Your cheeks cannot physically get any hotter, and you stop yourself from self-incriminatingly scowling at Sebastian. The story is embarrassing for him but you know he doesn’t care because it’s sure to embarrass you, too. His words are aimed at Prewett because he really wants to twist the knife, but he has everyone else’s rapt attention too. The two boys engage in a bit of a staring match, reminiscent of your very first Defense Against the Dark Arts class when you’d walked in on them, both aggravated, dueling each other.

“Why?” Leander spits out, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

“Sharp heard some, er, snogging noises in his private potions store at night. We’d gone in to nab some fluxweed but realized that we rarely get time to just be alone together. This one was smart enough to disillusion herself the moment we heard the door unlock, but I was so taken aback that I couldn’t do the same in time. He walked in and I, unable to think of anything else, told him that I’d found myself increasingly attracted to leaping toadstools. Of course, he assumed I was fulfilling some sort of bet, but I ended up with detention and she got off scot free.”

“Go on, tell them the details of my astrological chart too, won’t you.” You hiss, but Sebastian only laughs, reaching an arm out to toss over your shoulder and pull you in. “And it wasn’t snogging exactly. We were just… lightly kissing. Very chastely, I might add.” You know nobody believes you even as you’re telling the truth — Sebastian is more respectful than he lets on.

“Chaste kissing?” Garreth whistles as Ominis says this, and you prepare yourself for sarcasm from the latter. “Maybe your father was right to send you a marriage manual.”

Now it’s Sebastian’s turn to become beet red.

“M-marriage manual? I thought it was just a thing for young ladies to read. Your father sent you a what?”

Before you can say anything in response, Imelda breaks her uncharacteristic silence to begin humming a tune popularly played at wedding ceremonies, and you forget everything in the moment as you lunge at her. She calls her broom to her with ease before jumping on and, before you can think, you do the same, leaving your bag and the manual on the grass to chase after your friend.

All Sebastian can do is gaze up at you hopelessly and totally smitten as he, still red-faced, gathers your things up and closes your bag. Perhaps it’s time for another Three Broomsticks date. By the looks of it, you and Imelda are on your way there via air travel anyways.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts #harry potter #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x mc #slytherin #ravenclaw

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pitchsidestories · 3 months ago

Text

all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2010

a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻

“You!”

Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.

You didn’t care.

There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.

She actually did it.

You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.

She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“

There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.

“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.

Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.

She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“

“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.

From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.

You cringed.

“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.

“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”

You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“

“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.

You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“

Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.

Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“

You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.

“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.

To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“

You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.

In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”

“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.

“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.

“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.

“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.

“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.

“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.

Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.

“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”

“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.

“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.

The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”

“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.

“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.

“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.

“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.

“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.

“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.

A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.

“Can we talk?”

“Now?”, you wanted to know.

“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.

“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.

“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.

“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.

“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.

The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.

“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”

Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“

“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“

You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?

“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.

“You’re a whole different story.“, you said plainly.

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.

“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.

At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.

Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“

“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“

“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.

You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“

“No, I didn’t.“

“See.“

It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“

You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”

“No.“

“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.

“Of course, it’s not done with that.“

Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”

“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.

Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.

“Another time, okay?”

“Y/n…“

You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“

You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.

More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.

“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.

“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“

“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.

“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.

“Good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.

“Bye Luce.”

“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.

“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.

Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.

“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.

And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.

It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.

“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.

“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.

“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”

“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.

“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed

“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.

“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.

“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.

“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.

“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.

A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”

“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”

“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.

“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.

“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.

“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”

“Exactly.”, you added quickly.

“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.

“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.

“Wait, what?”, you frowned.

“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.

“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”

“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.

“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.

All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso oneshot #woso community #engwnt #lionesses x reader #lionesses #barclays wsl

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snaileer · 1 year ago

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Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

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satorulovebot · 1 month ago

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so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter two

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — satoru comes home to his angry wife and he said some questionable stuff the night before. satoru meets suguru at a bar in shinjuku and they discuss what they should do with their nosy little journalist and they manage to come up with a plan on how they should deal with her, and it doesn't include the most moral of ways.

✧₊⁺ word count — 4.6k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), alcohol use, drug mentions, manipulation, mentions of sex (not with reader)

✧₊⁺ notes — well hello to all my new readers this was very unexpected for me. i started this blog with max 4 readers interacting with my work (i love you btw) and now i have 1k interactions on my ssiwm masterlist which is crazy and anxiety inducing (i’m a wuss if you couldn’t tell). but thank you to my cursed seas babies who voted for the f1 gojo series and i thank them because they brought me here and i wouldn’t have kept writing without them and thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter also short chapter because life longer chapter soon i promise :)

♪ on the floor — jennifer lopez ft. pitbull

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

previous chap. tokyo, japan | next chap. (coming coon)

The world around Satoru was hazy when he opened his eyes, barely able to make out the details of the ceiling above him. His head throbbed and pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He let out a groan before rolling over on the couch in a desperate attempt to block out the morning sunlight.

Where was he? Oh, right. His apartment. The couch. Again.

He remembered stumbling into the house at some obscure hour of the night, unaware of how he swayed as he tried to navigate the hallway of his home. Memories of the previous night came rushing back and all of a sudden, a conversation came to him—a memory of the curious face that sat across from him in the dimly lit bar, asking him questions he would usually brush off with a smirk. What was it he had said about her last night? Something about a cute, nosy journalist being at the bar. He could only hope he didn't say that out loud.

“Oh, look who finally decided to wake up." Hana stood above him, her arms crossed, glaring down at him, “How nice of you to finally come home.”

Gojou grunted, pushing himself up, though he instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea hit him. “Morning to you too,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you keep it down? It feels like I’ve been hit by a damn truck.”

“Maybe that’s because you came home drunk out of your mind, yet again,” Hana snapped. “And stumbling around the house at two in the morning, shouting nonsense about some ‘nosy journalist’? Really, Satoru?”

He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of her words. Oh right, maybe he had gone on a bit too much about that girl at the bar last night, hadn’t he? What was her name? No, she never gave it to him, had she? Or had he just forgotten?

“I wasn’t shouting. And… she was just doing her job, asking questions. It wasn’t anything"

“Just doing her job? Is that what you call it now? Going to bars and flirting with journalists instead of coming home to your wife?”

He groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Hana, I wasn’t flirting with her,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s just a journalist. You know how it is.”

“Oh, I know how it is. I know exactly how it is. You spend every other night at some bar, ‘meeting’ people, and coming home like this.” She gestured at him, sprawled out on the couch, his shirt rumpled and hair a mess, the smell of last night’s whiskey still clinging to him. “And I’m supposed to just sit here and take it? Pretend this is normal?”

“Can we not do this right now?” he muttered. “It’s too early for a lecture.”

“A lecture? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually enjoy making a mess of everything. And let me guess, you were just at the bar for a ‘break’ from everything, right?”

“Yes, actually,” he shot back, finally sitting up. "I needed a break, Hana. Do you know what it’s like? Everyone expects me to be this… perfect person, and I'm not. And then I come home, and it’s more of the same.”

“So you’re the victim here? I’m sorry, but did I ask for this life of constant rumors and watching my husband stumble in drunk, muttering about some cute journalist?”

Did he really say that last night? He couldn’t remember, but if Hana said so… maybe he did.

“That’s not—Hana, it wasn’t like that. She was just… She’s just doing research on me for some project. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Oh, of course. Just research. Because there’s nothing strange about you going off with some girl who’s practically a stranger and giving her everything she wants to know about your life while leaving me in the dark.”

He looked at her, genuinely surprised by her comment. “Hana,” he started slowly, “I don’t ‘leave you in the dark.’”

“Really? Then tell me, what about all the rumors, Satoru? The ones I have to read about in the papers? The ones I have to brush off every time someone asks if our marriage is ‘really okay.’ Do you have any idea what it’s like having to deal with that?”

Do you think I like having my life dissected by the media, or dealing with every fucking rumor about me? I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” she shot back, “but you made it worse. Do you ever think about how your actions make me look? Every time you’re out drinking, showing up in those trashy tabloids with someone else, it’s me they look at, like I’m the one who can’t control her husband.”

“So what do you want from me, Hana? An apology? Fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went out. I’m sorry I had a drink. I’m sorry I talked to some journalists. But I can’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“You can’t pretend? Satoru, you’ve been pretending for years. You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”

He stared at her, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. “Hana…”

“I can’t keep doing this, Satoru,” she said softly, her voice breaking just a little. “I can’t keep watching you spiral like this, hurting yourself, hurting me. I didn’t marry you so you could destroy yourself.”

Hana let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re not the only one with limits, Satoru. And I think I’m reaching mine.”

Without another word, Hana turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

“Great job, Satoru,” he muttered to himself, dragging a hand through his hair.

He let his gaze fall around the room, landing on a few framed pictures scattered on the shelves. One photo caught his eye—a photo of his and Hana's engagement party. The two of them had looked so happy, so in love, but that was before he let the fame and pressure eat away at him and his marriage.

“God,” he muttered under his breath. He needed to get out before the walls began to close in on him. The last thing he wanted was to sit around in the empty house alone with his thoughts. Grabbing his jacket from the arm of the couch, he stood up, ignoring the fresh wave of nausea hitting him. With a quick glance down the hallway where Hana had disappeared, he slipped out the front door.

Satoru found Suguru in their usual spot—seated in the corner of a booth in a low-lit bar tucked away in Shinjuku. He was nursing a whiskey and a cigarette between two fingers, rolling the glass, and watching the ice melt. Satoru slid in across from him and ordered himself a whiskey.

“You look like hell,” Suguru said, his mouth twitching into a faint smile as he raised an eyebrow. “Long night?”

Satoru snorted. “You could say that.”

“Ah, the usual, then,” he replied, not even looking up. “Guessing it ended with a headache and Hana kicking you out onto the couch?”

Satoru grimaced, taking the glass of whiskey the server put down in front of him. “Something like that.” He took a long sip, letting the burn trail down his throat. “Or maybe I just wanted a break from the domestic life.”

“Right. Is that why you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a wall and lost? What happened?”

“Same shit as always,” Satoru muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s pissed I was out last night. Probably more pissed that I came home talking about some journalist.”

“A journalist, huh? She’s probably wondering if she should be jealous.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly help by calling her ‘cute’ and ‘nosy’ in the same sentence. Not my best moment.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

"Tell me something I don't know." Satoru leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "This girl… she's doing this project or something on me and TJR. She was in the press booth at the race yesterday and happened to be at the same bar as me after. Seemed a little too interested in getting into my head."

"Maybe she just wants a good story for her project. Or," He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, "maybe she's looking for more than that. Journalists are like that, especially extra nosy ones. They'll dig until there's nothing left, then still find a way to bring things up."

"She wouldn't be the first," Satoru scoffed.

“What exactly did she ask you about? Anything too close for comfort?”

Satoru swirled the whiskey in his glass, thinking. "To be honest, Suguru, I can't even remember half of what she said because I was too busy staring at her tits."

"Fucking Christ, Satoru. The hell?"

"What? She's got nice tits," he shrugged. "But in all seriousness, I think she was just asking the basics at first… and I might have opened my mouth a little too much."

"Sounds like she's already done her homework. If she's that determined, she's not going to stop at surface-level questions. Do you think she knows about all of it?"

Satoru knew what he was referring to.

“I don’t know, maybe. But if she is, she’s damn good at hiding it.”

“Then maybe you should start doing the same,” Suguru said quietly. Keep her close. See what she knows.”

“You’re saying I should let her in? What the hell do you think she’s going to do if she gets any closer?”

"You don’t have to let her in. Just make her think you are. Play the game, Satoru. You can be charming when you want to be. Distract her, keep her off your trail. If she’s nosy, then give her a story that’ll satisfy her and keep her from digging deeper. You’ve got the upper hand here; use it.”

Satoru thought over Suguru's suggestion, the gears in his mind turning. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It was probably his best option. If he was going to stay ahead, he’d have to play it better than her.

“Alright,” Satoru said, setting his glass down. “I’ll get close. Make her think I’m letting her in, give her just enough to chew on. And if she does know more than she’s letting on, maybe I can find a way to turn it against her.”

“Now you’re thinking like a true strategist. Just remember, don’t let her get under your skin. Journalist's loyalty is to their story, not to their subject."

Suguru's smirk widened, raising his glass in a mock toast. Satoru clinked his glass against his before downing the rest of the whiskey.

You had decided to get a closer look at the in's and out's of how Tokyo Jujutsu Racing worked. And for that, you needed to go to TJR's headquarters. You somehow managed to get your professor to get you inside the place, although it wasn't easy and he said your payment was a good project. The place was sleek and modern, with open spaces and luxury design elements. It was a playground for the rich as much as it was a workplace.

Earlier, you had been asking the staff about Gojou Satoru's training and habits, hoping to get some good information from them. They were surprisingly open to answering your questions, and you got some more information for your project, which was overall great.

Your media pass, which had thankfully been upgraded, hung around your neck as you waited for your tour guide to take you around the place. You decided to roam around for a bit while you waited and that led you down a hallway with team posters and trophies lining the walls.

You were so lost in your observations that you didn’t even realize someone had come up behind you. “Enjoying the view?”

Startled, you turned to find none other than Gojou Satoru leaning casually against the wall. He was dressed in his team's uniform, the red and black accentuating his tall figure, with dark shades covering his eyes.

He was probably high.

“Didn’t think of you as the observant type."

You composed yourself before speaking, “I'm a journalist. I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“And you think you’ll figure that out by staring at the walls?”

“Could be. I think they tell you a lot.” You shrugged. "Like how serious the team is about their image. Or how much they care about their past wins and not their current ones. That kind of thing."

“Oh? And what do you make of me, then?”

“Still deciding. I'd like to think you're more than a drunken idiot."

"I see you still remember that, unfortunately."

“That’s what a good journalist does. They remember."

He pushed himself off the wall, straightening up to his full height. “Well, since you’re here to observe, why don’t I give you something more to write about?”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and motioned for you to follow him. You hurried to keep up, glancing around as he led you through the winding corridors. Eventually, you entered a room with a massive window overlooking the racetrack.

Gojou leaned against the railing, gesturing to the track below. "So, this is where the magic happens. The place where we come to win."

You nodded, taking in the view. “It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. But it takes more than just a fast car to win, doesn’t it?”

"Oh, absolutely. It takes balls of steel, the reflexes of a god, and just the right amount of craziness. All of those, fortunately, I happen to possess.”

“Modesty isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“Not when you’re the best."

"Right. The best has an attitude I see."

A silence hung in the hair for a few moments as you studied him.

“So, are you planning to spend the rest of your time here psychoanalyzing me?”

“Depends. Are you planning to keep giving me things to analyze?”

“Touche. Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

At that moment, a team member entered the room, interrupting the moment. "Gojou, they’re ready for you on the track."

Stay here,” he said. “You’ll want a good view of this.”

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the observation room. You watched as he made his way down to the track, confident as ever with not a care in the world either.

Cocky Bastard.

You stood in the observation deck for a little before you saw Gojou

You stayed in the observation room, your eyes fixed on the scene below. You saw Gojou greet a few team members, exchange words with his pit crew, and slip into the driver’s seat of his car.

Gojou maneuvered effortlessly, weaving through turns and accelerating with insane amounts of speed. You couldn’t deny, he was talented and he had clearly worked his ass off to get here as his talent isn’t something that can be taught.

After about forty-five minutes of observing Gojou racing, he brought the car to a halt and hopped out of the driver's seat. You watched him walk into the garage and disappear out of sight, presumably going to speak to his crew.

You couldn’t deny it—there was something magnetic about him.

Your pen scratched against your notepad as you scribbled down every single detail possible.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, his tall frame standing in the doorway.

“Eh,” you shrugged.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means it was okay you ass. It gave me something for my project but nothing really noteworthy.”

“You’re lucky you know that? Not many people get to see me in action.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Okay? I’m not like many people if you couldn’t tell.”

“Clearly,” he scoffed.

“Do you know you’ve racked up more racked up more fines and close calls than any other driver in the league this season?”

“Look, sweetheart,” he said, voice low, “everyone out there knows I can handle the shit I do out there. Besides…” He trailed off. “People love a driver who’s a bit dangerous. Keeps things exciting.”

You met his eyes, holding his gaze without blinking. “You think the world loves you, huh? Interesting. Because from what I’ve read, people seem split between calling you a genius and calling you a liability.”

“Hm. Is that so? Do you believe that?” he replied.

“Yes, and you would know that if you let me interview you properly.”

“Okay how about this,” he glances down at his watch. “We can meet up in the parking garage here in about an hour and you can ask me anything you want for thirty minutes.”

Wait What?

“Uh… Okay, I think I can make it,” you mumbled.

“Great! See you in an hour sweets.”

The roar of an engine echoed through the underground parking lot, the sharp screeching of tires signaling the arrival of the Gojou. You leaned against the concrete pillar, your arms crossed and your foot tapping impatiently. He was late.

You’d waited over an hour, hoping he’d attend the interview he promised you.

When his sleek black Porsche 911 came into view with his window rolled down, you got even more pissed off than you already were

“Glad you could make it,” you called out, voice tinged with sarcasm.

He stretched, not even acknowledging your tone. “What can I say? Traffic was a nightmare.”

“Sure,” you replied dryly, your patience wearing thin. “We were supposed to meet an hour ago. Some of us value punctuality.”

He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing those piercing blue eyes that could disarm almost anyone. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could get another word out, he walked right past you, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Give me a sec,” he waved his hand over his shoulder. “Gotta take care of something.”

“Wait—” you started, but he was already striding off, leaving you standing there, seething.

The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. Your annoyance morphed into frustration. After waiting a bit longer, you decided enough was enough. If he thought he could blow you off, he was in for a rude awakening.

Determined, you followed the direction he’d gone. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the concrete walls as you weaved through the garage and into the back corridors of the venue.

“Mr. Gojou!” you called out. “This isn’t funny. Where the hell are you?”

You rounded a corner and stopped in your tracks. The faint sound of laughter—his unmistakable laugh—came from behind a partially open supply closet door a few feet ahead. You narrowed your eyes, creeping closer.

At first, you thought maybe he was on the phone. But as you drew nearer, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t a casual conversation.

“Mmm, you’re so bad,” a woman’s voice purred, followed by the unmistakable rustle of fabric.

Your stomach sank. No. He wouldn’t. Not right Now.

Would he?

Against your better judgment, you stepped closer, your movements quieter now. Peeking through the crack in the door, you instantly regretted it.

There he was, pressed against the back wall of the closet, shirt unbuttoned, and his hair disheveled. His hands were tangled in the hair of a woman whose face you couldn’t see, her body pinned against his as they made out with a fervor that bordered on obscene.

Was this seriously how he’d chosen to spend the time he owed you for your interview? The audacity was almost impressive.

You cleared your throat loudly, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the confined space.

The woman gasped, pulling away from him in shock. Gojou, however, turned his head lazily toward you, his expression unreadable. For a split second, there was something in his eyes—a flicker of annoyance, maybe even embarrassment—but it was quickly replaced by his usual, smirk.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite journalist.”

You folded your arms tightly across your chest, glaring at him. “Seriously?”

The woman, clearly flustered, muttered something about leaving and quickly ducked out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared down the hallway.

He sighed, buttoning up his shirt. “What?” he said. “You’ve never seen two consenting adults have a little fun before?”

“Fun?” you snapped. “We had an interview. You made me wait for over an hour before you showed up and then you go and do this?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “You’re the one who followed me. Maybe I would’ve shown up if you’d just stayed put. Plus, I had actually agreed to meet her here before I promised you the interview.”

“You make no fucking sense, do you know that?”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair, which only made it look messier. “I get that a lot.”

“Do you even care how this looks? You’re already under a microscope with all your scandals, and now this?”

“Why do you care so much? You writing a piece on my love life now, too?”

“No, but the media sure as hell is. What does your wife think of this? Of your reputation?”

“Reputation’s overrated,” he said, brushing past you as he headed for the door. “People are gonna think what they want, no matter what I do.”

You turned to watch him leave, your fists clenching at your sides. “Maybe if you gave them less to work with, they’d think better of you,” you called after him.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low and tired. “This is who I am. Take it or leave it.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the empty hallway, your heart pounding and your mind racing.

The sound of footsteps reverberated through the corridor as you leaned against the cold, concrete wall, still processing what had just happened. You were about to leave and write off this night as yet another chapter in the disaster that was Gojou Satoru.

But then, you heard his footsteps return.

“You still here?” he called out, voice echoing through the silence.

You didn’t move. “Should I be?”

He walked towards you, his gait relaxed, almost predatory. “Depends.” He stopped a few feet away, eyes fixed on yours. “You want a story for your project or what?”

You frowned, arms still crossed. “I’ve already seen more than enough tonight.”

“Come by my garage tomorrow. I’ve got something to show you. Something you can use.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“Fine. Tomorrow. But this better not be another waste of my time.”

“You won’t regret it.”

The smell of motor oil and metal hung in the air the moment you stepped inside the dimly lit garage. The concrete floor was stained with years of grease with tool scattered across the workbench. The garage was big, to say the least, there were rows of high-performance cars lining the walls, their glossy bodies gleaming under the garage's fluorescent lights. It was a bit of a mess inside the garage, as there were different car parts strewn across the garage.

Gojou stood beside it, sleeves rolled up, grease smudged on his forearms. The sight was so out of place.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” he drawled, tossing a wrench onto a nearby workbench with a clatter.

“Neither did I,” you shot back, arms crossed. “So, what’s the big secret? Planning on showing me how you avoid drug tests?”

“Always so sharp. No, this...” He gestured to the car. “This is one of my hobbies.”

You walked closer, eyeing the vintage vehicle with skepticism. “You? Fixing cars? Sounds like a PR stunt.”

He wiped his hands on a rag, smirking. “You think everything I do is a stunt?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise.”

“Careful, sweetheart. I might start thinking you’re obsessed with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself. I’m here for my project, not for you.”

He leaned casually against the car, arms crossed over his chest. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

“So, what’s the deal with this thing?”

“It was my dad’s. He used to take me to the track in this.”

“And you think this will make a good addition to my project? What, ‘Gojou Satoru: The Man Behind the Wheel’?”

People love a good redemption arc. Makes me more... relatable.”

You snorted. “You? Relatable? That’s a stretch.”

He pushed off the car, stepping closer again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe you just haven’t gotten to know me well enough.”

“Or maybe I’ve seen enough to know exactly who you are.”

His smile faltered, just for a second. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I think you’re a mess hiding behind a pretty face and a fast car.”

“You might be the first person who’s ever said that to my face.”

“Good. Someone needed to.”

…

“You know, I could help you relax a bit. Take the edge off.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Seriously? That’s your move? Pathetic.”

He grinned, unbothered by the insult. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Actually, I can. And I will.” You turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Cold as ever,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I like it.”

“Good for you.” You grabbed your bag, ready to leave. “Thanks for the... insight. I’ll be sure to include ‘Gojou Satoru: Amateur Mechanic’ in my report.”

“You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

You paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “Not about you.”

You barely made it five steps outside the garage before his voice called after you. "Running away already? Thought you were supposed to be fearless."

You stopped, the night air cool against your skin. Turning slowly, you saw him leaning against the garage doorframe.

“I’m not running, Gojou. I’m just done wasting my time.”

"You say that, but here you are. You could've written this off as another scandal of mine or another fall from grace. But you’re still digging. Makes me wonder why."

“Because you’re a story people want. A cautionary tale. People love watching someone like you crash and burn.”

“And here I thought you saw me as more than just some headline.”

“You’re not that special.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“What’s your deal, Gojou? Really,” you asked, voice softer now. “Is this all a game to you?”

“Everyone’s playing a game. I just play it better.”

“And what happens when you lose?”

He stepped closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I don’t lose.”

“Everyone loses eventually. Even you.”

“Well then,” he said. “We will see.”

He turned, walking back toward the garage, hands stuffed in his pockets. “You coming or not?”

You frowned. “What?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got something else to show you. Unless you’re too scared.”

You hesitated, every instinct telling you to walk away. But damn it, you couldn’t. There was something here, something you needed to understand and against your better judgment, you followed him back inside.

Gojou walked over to the workbench, picking up a small, silver object. He held it out to you.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it warily.

He shrugged. “Figure it out. You’re the journalist.”

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Maybe I’ll let you know the truth. Or maybe I just like fucking with you.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Before you could respond, he walked away, disappearing deeper into the garage. You stood there, the key clutched in your hand. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. Gojou Satoru was a puzzle, a mess of contradictions and lies. And you were going to unravel him, piece by piece.

ssiwm taglist: @ryutotsukai0824 @starlostwish @jaemissso @yuminako @satoryaa @qyuin @vm4879bb-blog

note: if you asked to be added to the taglist and i cannot tag you please turn on your tags :)

taglist status: open

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #gojo x you #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Text

Rule Followers

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: A one-shot, that is technically a companion piece to Wicked Games, but can be read solo! I've also expanded this story so much that I no longer think I can keep the titles within the Wicked Game lyrics...

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive Language, Implied Sexual Content, Potential Hint at Brat-Tamer!Hotch, Workplace Romance, Mild Workplace Tension, Humor. Part of a series but can be read as a standalone.

Sypnosis: After disclosing your relationship, you and Agent Hotchner are required to attend a mandatory workplace boundaries seminar, joined by Morgan and Garcia, who seem to be thoroughly entertained by the situation.

Companion piece to: Part V in the Wicked Game Universe (Can be read independently, though!)

The seminar room was filled with the monotony of beige walls and a lone projector humming softly at the front of the room. You and Hotch entered together, side by side, with Garcia and Morgan waiting in their seats, smirking like two kids ready for mischief.

“Oh, look,” Morgan murmured, nudging Garcia. “They finally arrived. I thought Strauss might’ve pulled you aside for a pre-seminar scolding.”

You scoffed and leaned over Hotch, who’d already put on his best stoic face, clearly prepping for the ordeal. “We’re here to learn, right, Aaron?”

He barely glanced at you, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching before he composed himself. “Let’s just get through this without incident.”

Garcia, never one to let a good opportunity pass, leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “Right, sure, because a seminar on professional boundaries was exactly what this team needed. Especially you two.”

Hotch cast a withering look her way, but before he could say anything, Morgan broke in, “You know, Hotch, I’ve never seen you get flustered—until now. Kind of refreshing, actually.”

You couldn’t resist nudging him with a playful grin. “Aw, he’s just mad because he knows they’ll call him out for all those little glances he sneaks when he thinks no one’s watching.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, but he couldn’t hide the faint flush creeping up his neck. “I think we all know who’s responsible for this…meeting.”

Morgan laughed. “Oh, there’s no question about that! All those times you two have been ‘subtly’ flirting in the field? Strauss must’ve been waiting for an excuse to get you here.”

“Professional decorum is important,” Hotch said flatly, as though reciting a script.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Decorum? Man, I saw you let her push every button until you were ready to combust. Don’t think you can pretend you didn’t enjoy it.”

Garcia gasped in exaggerated delight. “Strauss isn’t the only one watching!”

Hotch sighed, clearly caught between exasperation and mild amusement. “I think it’s safe to say none of us will be contributing to the Q&A session.”

“Oh, come on, Hotch,” you teased, leaning in so only he could hear. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious what they’ll say about us?”

He looked at you, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “No, but I’m curious to see how long you can actually sit still.”

Morgan laughed, overhearing. “I give it five minutes.”

As the seminar dragged on, the team shared knowing looks and chuckled silently, each relishing the rare sight of Hotch out of his element. And though you tried to keep your composure, every time you exchanged a sly glance with Hotch or caught him subtly rolling his eyes, you could feel the playful energy between you two crackling, uncontainable even in the most "serious" of seminars.

The seminar was in full swing, and the instructor—a painfully earnest, silver-haired man with a penchant for over-explaining—was clicking through a presentation with slides so outdated they looked like they belonged in a high school health class.

You and Hotch sat side by side, each trying to focus on the presentation, but you couldn’t resist stealing glances at him. The serious set of his jaw and that faint crease between his brows said he was doing his best to keep this under control, though you could tell his patience was wearing thin.

As the instructor droned on, a new slide appeared with the title: "Avoiding Favoritism in the Workplace."

You leaned just slightly toward Hotch, voice barely above a whisper. “Well, that’s relevant.”

Without looking at you, Hotch replied quietly, “Don’t even start.”

But you couldn’t resist, nodding at the slide with mock seriousness. “You know, Aaron, maybe I should stop winning all those ‘favorite agent’ contests.”

He gave you a sidelong look, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Last I checked, those weren’t real.”

You leaned in a little closer, murmuring, “Oh, right. All my campaigning for nothing.”

Hotch didn’t miss a beat, his voice low. “I don’t play favorites in the workplace.”

You stifled a grin, keeping your tone innocent. “Good to know. So, if it came down to it, you’d rather be sleeping next to me at night than…Reid?”

Hotch’s lips twitched with the faintest smile. “It’s a close call.”

You smirked. “Come on, admit it. I’m your favorite outside the office.”

He finally glanced your way, just the hint of warmth in his eyes. “Outside the office? That’s never been in question.”

Satisfied, you settled back with a smirk. "Glad we got that straight."

You settled back, but when the next slide appeared—Examples of Inappropriate Behavior—you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. The slide showed two people standing far too close to each other, gazing with barely hidden longing, and you swore the actors looked vaguely like you and Hotch.

He let out a quiet, barely perceptible sigh as the instructor spoke. “It’s important to recognize when boundaries are becoming blurred. You may think a close colleague is just a friend, but others may perceive favoritism or unprofessional behavior.”

At that, you leaned closer to Hotch. “Think we should ask if our relationship is coming across that way?”

His gaze remained fixed on the slide. “I think the goal is to make it through without drawing attention.”

You held back a laugh, nodding seriously. “Right, right. We’re practically invisible.”

The instructor continued, oblivious, as the slides shifted to Physical Boundaries and Inappropriate Contact. You watched as a series of awkward stock photos appeared, showing coworkers sharing prolonged eye contact or lingering touches.

“This is absurd,” Hotch murmured under his breath, sounding almost resigned.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying it doesn’t cover our unique situation?”

He gave you a sharp look, the faintest glint of warning, but there was something else too—almost a glimmer of amusement.

“Not a word.” But his silence didn’t last long. When the instructor started explaining the potential “distractions” that could arise from workplace relationships, Hotch muttered so quietly you almost missed it, “As if I’d ever be distracted.”

“Oh, really?” you whispered back, daring him with a playful smirk. “Then why do I catch you staring at me constantly?”

He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes forward with military precision. But you could see the telltale clench in his jaw and that faint blush creeping up his neck. You couldn’t let him off that easily.

“Guess you must be the picture of focus,” you murmured with a grin.

“Unlike you,” he replied in a dry whisper, “I can keep my focus exactly where it needs to be.”

“Right, so no distractions at all,” you said, casting a quick glance his way. “That’s why we’re at this seminar, after all.”

Just then, the instructor called for attention, clicking to a slide that displayed a list of “Appropriate Boundaries” in the workplace. His voice carried through the room with a practiced authority. “Maintaining professional boundaries ensures that all team members are treated fairly and equitably. Distractions, romantic relationships, or favoritism can erode the integrity of your work.”

You leaned over to Hotch, keeping your voice low. “Integrity, huh? Think ours is intact?”

Hotch’s tone was barely more than a murmur. “Strauss seems to think we’re hanging by a thread.”

You feigned a sigh. “Guess it’s a good thing I enjoy walking that line.”

He shook his head, gaze fixed on the screen as he struggled to maintain his composure. “You’re impossible.”

The instructor’s voice droned on about “a professional atmosphere free of personal entanglements” as another slide appeared—Common Workplace Hazards. The image showed two colleagues leaning too close over a desk, an almost magnetic pull between them.

You bit back a grin and leaned toward Hotch, your voice a soft murmur. “That one looks familiar…maybe a certain night in your office?”

Hotch’s jaw tensed, and his hand brushed against yours, sending a thrill down your spine. Without missing a beat, he murmured, “We are not having this conversation here.”

But you couldn’t resist, letting your fingers brush his just enough to keep him on edge. “Come on, Aaron… Remember how you locked the door?”

He shot you a sharp look, his tone low and commanding. “Behave.” His hand settled firmly over yours, stilling your movements, and his voice softened. “Or I’ll have to remind you exactly who’s in charge, even here.”

You smirked, feeling a thrill of defiance. “Promise?”

Hotch’s gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. “Trust me, I do,” he whispered, a quiet edge in his voice that left no room for argument. The glint in his eyes, though, hinted at something deeper, a shared memory lingering between you both.

Silenced and properly reeled in, you gave him a slight nod, unable to resist a soft, satisfied smile.

The seminar dragged on, but now there was a new energy between you. Every time a stock photo showed another awkward interaction or the instructor stressed the dangers of “inappropriate workplace affection,” you and Hotch would exchange the faintest of glances, each one saying everything you couldn’t in the middle of the seminar.

By the time the last slide finally clicked by with a bland “Thank you for your attention,” you were practically buzzing with pent-up energy, and you could see Hotch was just as eager to be done with it. Maybe more.

As you both stood up, gathering your things, you couldn’t help but murmur, “Well, I hope you took notes. Wouldn’t want any slip-ups in front of Strauss.”

He gave you a wry smile, finally letting the humor slip through. “I think I have everything I need right here.”

You raised an eyebrow, catching his gaze. “Does that mean I’m off the hook?”

Hotch looked at you, his voice so low and sincere that it sent a thrill down your spine. “Let’s just say I have a pretty good handle on where we stand.”

And with that, he held the door open for you, his hand brushing your lower back as you exited the room. Maybe you were supposed to keep your distance, maybe the seminar didn’t exactly condone it—but you knew you’d both be just fine.

As you and Hotch stepped out of the seminar room, Morgan and Garcia followed close behind, each wearing matching grins that hinted they’d been waiting for a moment to pounce. Hotch let his hand on your lower back drop, straightening up as if trying to re-establish some level of professionalism.

Morgan shook his head with a smirk. “Well, I think we can all agree that’s two hours of our lives we’ll never get back. Honestly thought they’d use some real-life examples from our team for a minute there.”

Garcia grinned, nudging Morgan. “Hey, I was bracing for it! I thought for sure they’d pull out that slide on pet names you shouldn’t use for your coworkers.”

You let out a snort, looking at her with amusement. “Oh yeah, we were all waiting for ‘chocolate thunder’ or ‘baby girl’ to make its big comeback.”

Hotch, keeping a straight face, gave Morgan a sidelong glance. “I think we’re all grateful they kept things…general.”

Morgan chuckled, leaning back with a grin. “Oh, sure, Hotch. General works for most of us—but something tells me this seminar’s gonna stick with you two a bit longer.”

Hotch’s lips pressed into the faintest smirk, just for a second. “I think we’re clear on what’s expected.”

You shot Hotch a sidelong smile. “Yep. Message received, loud and clear.”

Garcia, ever the gleeful instigator, clasped her hands with a grin. “I, for one, am just thrilled to have witnessed the two of you sitting through all that…professional advice.”

Hotch’s gaze flickered between the three of you, and he let out a resigned sigh. “Let’s keep the commentary in check, shall we?”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell us twice,” Morgan replied, shaking his head with a laugh. “But you two might be in for a few more of these little ‘reminders’ from Strauss, just saying.”

Hotch straightened, his expression returning to its usual calm. “I’m fairly confident we can stay on the right side of things,” he replied, casting you a brief, meaningful look.

As you all walked toward the elevators, his hand brushed your back in the subtlest of gestures, enough to remind you that, whatever Strauss or the seminar said, both of you knew exactly where you stood.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #aaron hotch #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #kiwriteswords #wicked game

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klaus-littlestwolf · 3 months ago

Text

Nerd Alpha!Klaus Stalking his Omega

(Klaus is a bit of a stalker in this one but not in a creepy or Yandere way, he’s just a sweet Alpha with no social skills)

He had caught her scent the first time in the quad and followed the scent all the way to the library where he found an Omega surrounded by strong Alphas who were clearly trying to get her attention.

Klaus had known that he had to have her but he also knew he couldn’t compete with the large football players that were after her and so he sent her a bouquet of roses. The note attached told her of his interest in her and she actually found it quite sweet, flattered by the completely new approach from an Alpha. Usually they’re all in your face and huge assholes trying to show you that they’re the better option but “NM” was trying to ‘woo’ her without being intimidating and mean. She found she actually loved it.

The next day she got another note and it was lovely,

‘I cannot get your sweet smile out of my mind, I wish more than anything it was me you were smiling at. Seeing the sadness on your face as those asshole Alphas surround you hurts me to witness, your face should only ever be happy. I have fallen in love with your sweet scent, honeysuckle and warm caramel haunt my nose in a way I didn’t know possible and I do hope that my scent pleases you the same.’

He had sent her a stuffed wolf that was covered in a strong Alpha smell letting her know that he had deliberately scented it, the smell of Pine Trees, Whiskey and Leather being overwhelmingly delicious to her and actually making her a bit light headed as she sat on her bed huffing the scent of the stuffed wolf and feeling the slick begin dripping from between her legs.

She had placed the stuffed wolf into her nest and hoped that her Alpha would introduce himself today but he did not, he had left her another rose and a blanket that was heavily covered in his scent.

She was a bit confused as to why he wouldn’t come and find her when she accepted the stuffy, no Omega in the world would keep the scent of an Alpha in her living space if she didn’t love it but either way she laid the blanket into her nest and snuggled up with it after class.

She received things at her dorm every evening after that, except occasionally for the breakfast he would send to her when he knew she hadn’t slept very well.

He had watched her for 2 weeks before the morning that she didn’t show up in her first class period, she always showed up and he was worried now.

After that class he ditched his next lecture and brought his Omega a basket full of snacks and a new blanket as well. He stood around the corner as he always did only to see the door open and get hit by her scent 45 feet away which could only happen in one case…she was in heat.

The fact that she had opened the door at all was concerning and he couldn’t stop the growl that built in his chest at her wonderful scent.

‘Are we ever going to meet or is this going to be our relationship forever?’ She wondered and Klaus winced at the sound of her harsh voice from her heat wreaking havoc on her body. ‘If you don’t want me then stop doing this to me!’ She demanded and Klaus took a breath before looking around the corner and seeing his Omega looking exhausted and leaning against the doorframe. ‘You?’ She questioned and he winced. ‘No! It’s not bad, I just-don’t take this the wrong way but, I didn’t even know you were an Alpha-you’re just so quiet…well come here then! You induced my heat, the least you can do is comfort me!’ Klaus growled, not liking his mates snappy attitude and she seemed to know that as he stood over her, giving her exactly what she wanted in the end which was him being closer though he still stood back only allowing her to hold onto his shirt.

‘Your mouth is going to get you into trouble Omega.’

She peeked up with curious, teasing eyes. ‘Are you gonna punish me while I’m suffering, Alpha?’

He shook his head and tilted her head up with his hand under her chin. ‘You know that I won’t, Alpha won’t hurt you. I-I worried when you weren’t in class…I needed to know that you were alright.’ She nodded, grabbing onto the sides of his jacket and pulling him closer.

‘Such a good Alpha, needed to check on me. So good to me Alpha!’ He felt a rumble expel from his chest in pleasure, knowing that his Omega was recognizing him as being a good Alpha for her. ‘My Alpha takes such good care of me-‘ she brushed a hand up his chest before running it through his hair. ‘Brings me snacks and comfort and scents everything so good for my nest, Alphas so good to me…just me?’

Klaus let out that rumbling sound again, much louder and deeper this time. ‘My Omega! Mine! Knew from the moment I smelled you that no one else could have you! Won’t let them near you ever again, Omega!’ He pulled her against his chest, unable to fight his instincts anymore, needing his Omega in his arms but her hands pressed to his chest, stopping him from scenting her which he instantly grumbled at.

‘My Alpha? No other Omegas anymore, just me…right?’ His head snapped up, suddenly understanding her demeanor and nervous scent.

‘My Omega is all I need, never even thought about another Omega since I smelled your scent, you’re all I want. No worrying about that, and there sure isn’t a line of Omegas looking for a nerdy Alpha-‘

‘My Alphas kind, and sweet, brings me snacks and blankets, takes care of me…and my Alpha is so pretty.’ She complimented, the Omega moving her arms around his neck to pull him close. ‘Omegas steal…I would steal you.’

‘No stealing. I’m all yours…let Alpha have you, let me take care of you. Will you let Alpha help you through your heat?’ She nodded quickly, pulling him down and pressing her lips to his in a needy kiss. Klaus held her close, relishing the feeling of finally being able to hold his Omega and take in her scent, a scent that was slowly killing him. ‘I need to get a few things, I didn’t know you were in heat and I need to take care of you-‘

‘You’re leaving?’ She whined and as he looked down into her eyes he knew he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t hurt her like that and God only knows who she would answer the door to next as her heat gets worse and her head becomes fuzzy.

‘No. No Princess, I’m gonna have stuff delivered, don’t you worry about a thing. You go snuggle up in your nest while I get some stuff brought to us.’ Her eyes lit up and she pulled him close, kissing him hard before she hopped over to her nest, fixing a few things before crawling in allowing Klaus to see all of the things he had scented for her already in her nest making his chest swell with pride and happiness that he could make his Omega happy like a good Alpha.

He quickly had a friend get a bunch of water bottles and snacks for them as well as grab a few things from his dorm for him, telling him to bring it urgently. He also called the Dean to tell him that they both needed to be excused from their classes until his Omegas heat is over which thankfully the school can’t reject, lest they be “prejudiced against Omegas”.

There was a loud knock on the door and Klaus quickly grabbed Y/n before she jumped up. ‘No more answering the door for you, not like this. Your Alpha is here to take care of you now, Princess. Stay in your nest and Alpha will help cool you off.’ His Omega was sweating now, her heat taking hold harder as he was now here with her. ‘Thank you, I owe you one when this is all over.’ He told his dorm mate whose eyes widened as he took in the scent wafting from the room however Klaus knew he was a Beta which is why he asked him to do it specifically, just in case he got bold.

‘You owe me nothing, the smell is worth it.’ Klaus grabbed his things and shut the door quickly, dropping the duffel bag of stuff and quickly plugging in the A/C fan he had gotten to use during his ruts when he desperately needs to cool off.

‘This will chill the room very quickly and you’ll want to snuggle up in your nest just like you should.’ As soon as the cool air began blowing on her she instantly began emitting a soft purring noise that went straight to his cock. Klaus also took his comforter and spread it over the nest to give his Omega more of his scent which she instantly snuggled under, reaching out for him.

‘Alpha, need you.’ He quickly stripped to his boxers and moved to crawl into the nest, pausing as he did, feeling the instant relief and comfort as he slid under the blankets. Klaus had never felt anything so comfortable in his life and his head felt floaty and happy as he got in. He had only heard about how a nest can make an Alpha feel, Alphas never experiencing one unless they have their own Omega.

‘Your nest is wonderful, Omega. Absolutely perfect. Thank you for letting me share it with you.’

‘Always Alpha, always want you in my nest with me. Wanna make you happy.’ She nuzzled her face into his neck and nipped his skin against his scent gland which caused an excited growl he couldn’t supress if he tried.

‘You’re all mine now Omega, never any other Alphas ever again! If they come anywhere near you I’ll rip their throats out.’ There’s something to be said for the strength of an Alpha protecting their Omega and even Klaus who is on the smaller side of being an Alpha could tear apart those football assholes for his Omega once they’ve mated. ‘I need you to tell me now, before you’re too far gone. Do you want me? I’ll stay and comfort you if that’s all you want, it will hurt me but I will do it. I just need you to tell me.’

‘Want you to love me Alpha, please? Need your knot, need it! Don’t keep it from me Alpha, please?’ His eyes widened, not having expected her to beg in such a way.

‘Shh, Alpha would never keep his knot from you, I would never be so cruel. Your Alpha is gonna knot you up so deep you’ll be full of my pups by morning.’ He swore, pulling her top off over her head and seeing she was only left in her red lace panties. ‘So fucking perfect, Omega! Fuck!’

By the time he had completely undressed her she had ripped his boxers off (Klaus thanking the Gods that he had another pair in the duffel bag) and straddled him roughly making him growl, only to flip her back over and grind his hard cock against her slick center. The mewl that she let out was it’s own reward and he loved it as he humped his hips against her roughly before she tugged on his hair. ‘Knot Alpha! Please? Please?!’ She pleaded desperately.

He felt bad for not making it last longer for her but they had all the time in the world and if what his Omega needed was his knot this fast then he would provide it. He pushed his cock into her gently, not wanting to harm his girl at all but she seemed to have other ideas, wrapping around him completely and pushing onto him all at once making her scream. He thrust up into her roughly, keeping up his pace as she raked her nails down his back, the growl she pulled from him clearly making her happy.

‘Knot…please? Knot me Alpha, please?’ She begged.

He wanted so badly to make his Omega finish first, feel her squeeze around his cock almost painfully but he was hanging on by a string and if this is what she needed then he would give it to her. Klaus wrapped an arm around her waist and his other held between her shoulder blades, pressing her against him as hard as he could, thrusting into her twice more before feeling his knot expand within her. Just as he began filling her she clamped down on him and cried out, tightening her grip as she rode out her own end on his knot, Klaus keeping her from moving too much and hurting them both. He didn’t move, knowing that Omegas are extra sensitive at this point and not wanting her to think he’s trying to leave however he lifts her up onto the pillows more, grabbing a bottle of water that he had put on the table and making her drink it.

They stayed there just like that, snuggled up in their own world until his knot went down enough for him to move, ordering them both some food to make sure his Omega ate before it got worse. He was bound to go into rut by morning just being around her scent like this and he needed to ensure they had everything they needed by then and were fully fed.

Klaus hopped up from the nest as there was a knock on the door, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and opening it a bit, assuming it was the food before seeing one of Y/n’s friends-Caroline- standing there with a confused look on her face. ‘Who are you and why are you in her room?’ She questioned suspiciously but as if she hadn’t quite decided anything about him yet.

‘Taking care of my Omega. Now is not the best time, Y/n will be out of class for the week. Her professors already know and I’d appreciate you telling her friends she’ll be out just to keep anyone else from knocking. If you need something text, okay?’ She stopped the door before he could shut it and he instantly disliked the way she batted her eyes up at him. He didn’t want to be near another Omega right now and she was making this so much more difficult. He knew Caroline, she was shallow and greedy, Daddy’s money had always gotten her everything (including a spot in their highly prestigious school) and she always smelled of at least 5 different Alphas.

‘You’re the Alpha that’s been sending her gifts? That’s so sweet! Such a good Alpha…’ she leaned on the door jam and he tried very hard to keep the door as closed as he could but she was making it impossible to do that and not touch her at the same time.

‘Thank you, I do try. I need to get back to my Omega-‘

‘And attentive! So wonderful! I wish I had an Alpha like you.’ She flirted, reaching her hand out to touch his hair and making him step back. He didn’t want to be rude to her friend in anyway but she was pushing this too far.

‘I’m sure you’ll find someone soon, try someone other than idiot football players.’ He suggested. ‘Now please, I need to-‘

‘Oh I definitely plan to try someone else…you smell fantastic, you know that?’ Klaus huffed, rolling his eyes, having had enough before responding at her again.

‘Well you smell like a whore.’ Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth fell open. ‘Yes, I said it, do you think people can’t smell them all over you? You smell like so many Alphas have cum all over you that you may as well have a glory hole in your dorm room door. Maybe if you didn’t smell like 5 different Alphas at a time a nice one would bring you gifts like I did for my sweet Omega whom I would never trade for any other anywhere in the world. Now, Get Out!’ Klaus snarled, using the door to push her before slamming it in her face.

When he got back into the nest Y/n was awake, looking at him in shock. ‘No Alpha has ever passed up Caroline for me.’

‘You were meant to be mine so I should thank them for that. I will always take care of you, I have never been attracted to an Omega like I am to you. You’re mine now, and I’m sorry but I think I definitely just lost you a friend.’ She shook her head.

‘There’s only 4 Omegas in the whole school, she’ll move on or she’ll be alone cause everyone else is going to love you.’ She grinned, snuggling back into his chest and scenting him over again since there was another Omega in the room.

‘Hopefully they’ll love me just a tad bit less.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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sushiyuzu · 4 months ago

Text

mooncake festival with lads men 🥮🌙

a/n: late post but happy mooncake festival! wishing you all happiness, good health, and togetherness this mooncake festival. may the moonlight bring peace and joy to your heart!

- sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel and caleb x reader

sylus

the mooncake festival is alive with color and light. lanterns of every shape and size hang from strings above, casting a warm, golden glow over the streets. laughter fills the air, and you can hear the soft melody of traditional music playing in the distance. the night feels magical, but despite the excitement around you, it’s sylus’s presence beside you that holds your attention the most.

he walks quietly, his gaze sweeping over the festival, ever alert as always. but there’s a softness in the way he walks next to you, like he’s more relaxed than usual. his hand brushes yours occasionally, sending small sparks up your arm, but he doesn’t take your hand. not yet, anyway.

“you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say softly, glancing at him.

he turns his head slightly, those red eyes of his meeting yours for a brief moment. “just thinking,” he replies, his voice low and smooth.

“about what?” you ask, curious. sylus rarely shares his thoughts openly.

“about how different this is,” he admits, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “from… what i’m used to.”

you tilt your head, intrigued. “different in a good way?”

he doesn’t answer right away, but his gaze softens as he looks ahead at the glowing lanterns. “yeah,” he finally says. “in a good way.”

you walk together for a while, weaving through the crowd. despite the lively energy around you, there’s a sense of calm between you and sylus, an unspoken understanding. the two of you stop in front of a group of people dancing in the square. the music is slow, melodic, and the dancers move gracefully under the lantern light. you watch them for a moment, caught up in the beauty of it.

“do you dance?” sylus asks, breaking the silence. his voice is quiet, almost as if he’s testing the waters.

you blink, a little surprised by the question. “uh… not really,” you say, laughing nervously. “i mean, i can, but it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

he looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your heart beat faster. “let’s see,” he says, holding out his hand.

your breath catches in your throat. you didn’t expect him to actually ask you to dance, especially not here, in front of all these people. but the way he’s looking at you, calm and confident, makes it impossible to refuse. you hesitantly place your hand in his, and his grip is firm but gentle, his skin warm against yours.

“sylus, i’m really not—” you start, but he cuts you off with a soft smile, the kind that makes your knees feel weak.

“i’ll lead,” he says simply, guiding you toward the quieter side of the square, away from the crowd but still under the lanterns. the music continues to play, and before you know it, sylus has placed one hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand, and he begins to move.

you follow his lead, your body unsure at first but quickly falling into rhythm with his. his movements are smooth, controlled, and it feels almost effortless dancing with him. there’s something about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you under the soft glow of the lanterns, that makes the world around you fade away. it’s just you and sylus, moving together in perfect harmony.

“you’re better than you let on,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “only because you’re leading.”

he tilts his head slightly, his red eyes never leaving yours. “maybe. or maybe you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

his words make your heart skip a beat, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. the closeness between you feels almost overwhelming now, the way his hand rests on your waist, the way his fingers are intertwined with yours. you’re not sure how much longer you can hold his gaze without completely melting.

“i didn’t expect you to dance,” you say quietly, trying to break the tension.

“neither did i,” he replies, his voice soft, almost thoughtful. “but… something about tonight feels different. lighter.”

you smile up at him, your heart swelling at the rare glimpse of vulnerability he’s showing you. “i’m glad,” you whisper.

the music slows, and so do your movements, but neither of you lets go. you’re standing so close now, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. the air between you feels charged, like something unspoken is lingering just beneath the surface.

“sylus…” you begin, but the words die on your lips when he shifts closer, his forehead almost touching yours.

“stay with me tonight,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart races, and for a moment, you’re not sure if he means here, at the festival, or something deeper. but before you can respond, he pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

“just… don’t leave yet,” he adds, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

you nod, unable to speak, and he smiles—just a small, brief smile—but it’s enough to make your heart flutter.

later, the festival becomes too much. the noise, the crowds, the constant buzz of energy—it’s overwhelming. you feel it creeping up on you, that need to escape, to find some peace away from the chaos. sylus notices before you even have to say anything. he’s always so attuned to you, as if he can sense your every thought and feeling.

“want to get out of here?” he asks quietly, his voice cutting through the noise.

you nod, grateful, and without another word, he takes your hand, leading you away from the lantern-lit streets and out into the quiet countryside. the night air is cool against your skin, and soon, the sounds of the festival fade into the distance, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle chirping of crickets.

you walk in comfortable silence until you reach a small lake, its surface smooth and still, reflecting the full moon above. sylus leads you to a large stone by the water’s edge, sitting down and gesturing for you to join him. you sit beside him, the cool grass beneath you, and breathe in the peacefulness of the night.

“this is better,” you say quietly, looking out at the moonlit lake.

“yes,” sylus agrees, his voice soft. “it is.”

he pulls a small box from his coat pocket and opens it, revealing two mooncakes. he hands one to you, and you take it with a small smile, your fingers brushing his as you do. there’s something intimate about the simple gesture, the way he thought to bring something just for the two of you.

“didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” you tease lightly, taking a bite of the mooncake.

he chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “i don’t. but i figured you might.”

you raise an eyebrow, amused. “you’re thoughtful, aren’t you?”

“only sometimes,” he says, and there’s that rare smile again, the one that makes your heart do a little flip.

you sit together in silence for a while, sharing mooncakes and watching the reflection of the moon on the lake. the air is cool, but sylus’s presence beside you is warm, comforting. at some point, you lean back, your shoulder brushing against his. he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you.

“it’s peaceful here,” you murmur, glancing over at him.

he nods, his gaze still focused on the water. “it is. i could stay here all night.”

“me too,” you whisper, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

the night stretches on, the two of you sitting side by side, saying nothing but understanding everything. in the quiet of the moonlit lake, it’s like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, and for once, everything feels simple. everything feels right.

zayne

the festival is alive with vibrant colors, lanterns glowing in every direction, casting soft hues of red, gold, and orange across the crowded streets. laughter and chatter fill the air, but zayne walks beside you, quieter than usual. his gaze shifts around, observing the details with a thoughtful expression.

“there’s something i want to show you,” he says, his voice low but steady. without another word, he gently takes your hand, leading you through the crowd. your pulse quickens, feeling the warmth of his hand, and for a moment, the noise of the festival seems to fade away.

he brings you to a quieter part of the festival, where people are writing wishes on lanterns. they carefully attach their slips of paper to the lanterns, watching them drift upward, joining the sea of glowing lights floating towards the sky.

zayne hands you a small piece of paper and a pen. “it’s tradition to write down your wishes for the future,” he explains, his gaze fixed on the lanterns above. “then you let it go.”

you glance at the paper in your hand, the smooth texture between your fingers feeling heavier than it should. “do you believe in these kinds of things?” you ask, curious.

zayne shrugs, though there’s a softness in his eyes. “i don’t know if wishes come true this way, but… maybe it’s more about letting go. letting the universe know what you want.”

you watch him for a moment, his expression unreadable. slowly, you write your wish down, feeling the weight of the words settle in your chest. you glance at him, wondering if he’s already written his wish.

he hesitates, his pen poised over the paper. his eyes flicker towards you briefly before returning to his blank slip. “i’m not very good at this,” he murmurs, his voice almost too soft to hear.

you smile gently, nudging him with your elbow. “it doesn’t have to be perfect. just write whatever comes to mind.”

he lets out a quiet breath, and you see his hand move, writing something down with careful strokes. when he finishes, his fingers linger over the paper for a moment longer before he folds it and attaches it to his lantern.

you both stand there, holding your lanterns in your hands, the soft glow illuminating your faces. “ready?” you ask, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

zayne glances at you, something unreadable in his gaze. “yeah. ready.”

you release your lanterns at the same time, watching them drift into the sky, their light growing smaller as they join the others. there’s a quiet moment between you, the festival noise a distant hum in the background, as you both watch the lanterns disappear.

after a long pause, zayne breaks the silence. “what did you wish for?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s a hint of curiosity behind his words.

you smile, shaking your head. “i’m not telling. that ruins the wish, doesn’t it?”

he chuckles softly, a rare sound that makes your heart skip. “fair enough.”

you tilt your head, looking at him thoughtfully. “what about you? what did you wish for?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, he hesitates. then, a small smile tugs at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “i think i’ll keep that one to myself,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

but the way he looks at you, the intensity in his gaze, tells you everything you need to know.

the night grows quieter as the festival winds down, but the sky above still dances with bursts of color from the fireworks. zayne leads you away from the busy streets, toward a quieter spot by the lake. the soft lapping of the water against the shore is a soothing contrast to the earlier excitement.

you sit down on a bench together, the cool night air brushing against your skin. the lanterns hanging from the trees reflect off the water, casting a soft glow around the two of you. zayne leans back, his arms resting casually behind him, eyes fixed on the sky.

“it’s peaceful here,” he says, his voice low, almost as if he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

you nod, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. there’s a calmness in his posture, but his gaze is distant, as if his mind is elsewhere. “you’ve been quiet tonight,” you say gently, hoping to draw him out.

he turns his head slightly, looking at you. “just… thinking,” he admits, his tone softer than usual. “about things. about the future.”

you tilt your head, watching him carefully. “what about the future?”

he’s silent for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the water. “sometimes, i wonder if i’m doing the right thing. if the path i’m on is leading where i want to go. or if i’m just…” he trails off, shaking his head. “i don’t know.”

you reach out, placing a hand on his arm, your touch gentle. “you don’t have to have all the answers right now, zayne.”

he lets out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at your touch. “it’s just… when i’m around you, i feel like maybe things could be different. better.”

your heart skips a beat at his words, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. “you make things better too, you know,” you say softly, your thumb brushing against his arm in a comforting gesture.

he turns to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “you really think that?”

you nod, meeting his gaze. “i know it.”

there’s a long pause, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as the fireworks continue to light up the sky. the colors reflect off the water, casting soft hues across his face, making him look almost ethereal in the moonlight.

without warning, zayne reaches out, his hand covering yours. his touch is warm, steady, and the simple gesture makes your breath hitch. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his fingers curl around yours, the gentle pressure of his hand, speaks volumes.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the moment is too fragile for louder words.

you smile, your heart swelling with an emotion you can’t quite name. “for what?”

he doesn’t look away from you, his gaze steady, almost intense. “for being here. for… everything.”

the night stretches on, the sounds of the festival fading into the background. and as you sit there, hand in hand, under the glow of the moon and the lanterns, you realize that sometimes, the quietest moments say the most.

xavier

the festival is in full swing, the streets alive with the vibrant colors of lanterns and the buzz of excited festival-goers. as you and xavier weave through the crowded pathways, he stays close, his presence steady beside you. the laughter and chatter of the crowd seem overwhelming, and you can’t help but feel a bit disoriented.

“stick close,” xavier says, his voice low but firm as he gently guides you through the throngs of people. his hand finds its way to your lower back, a reassuring touch that keeps you close to him.

you glance up at him, noticing how focused he is on making sure you’re safe. “thanks for staying so close,” you say, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his protective gesture.

he meets your gaze with a soft smile. “it’s my job to look out for you,” he replies, his eyes reflecting the glow of the lanterns. “especially in a crowd like this. you never know what could happen.”

as you continue walking, you can feel the occasional bump from other festival-goers. each time, xavier’s grip on your back tightens slightly, his body subtly shielding you from any potential collisions.

“you’re really good at this,” you comment, trying to lighten the mood. “you could be a professional crowd navigator.”

he chuckles softly, a sound that feels warm and comforting. “well, i’ve had some practice. but honestly, it’s not about navigating crowds. it’s about making sure you’re okay.”

you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. “i’m fine, really. but it’s nice to have you looking out for me.”

xavier’s smile softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “i wouldn’t have it any other way. i care about you too much to let anything happen.”

just then, someone jostles you, causing you to stumble slightly. before you can react, xavier has you firmly pressed against his side, his arm around you in a protective embrace.

“careful there,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing presence in your ear. “it’s easy to get bumped around in these crowds.”

you look up at him, noticing how his expression is a blend of concern and calm. “i guess it’s a good thing you’re here.”

he nods, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that makes your heart race. “i’m always here, as long as you need me.”

you walk together, the crowd slowly thinning out as you approach a quieter area. xavier’s grip on your back remains steady, a comforting reminder of his presence. when you finally reach a less crowded spot, you both stop, taking a deep breath and enjoying the calmer surroundings.

“we made it through,” you say, glancing around at the more peaceful scene.

“we did,” xavier agrees, his hand lingering on your back before he slowly pulls away. “and i’m glad i could be here with you.”

you smile at him, feeling a deep sense of appreciation for his care. “thanks for looking out for me.”

xavier’s smile grows, a genuine, warm expression. “anytime.”

the festival has wound down, and the streets are quieter now, the earlier buzz replaced by a gentle calm. xavier leads you to a secluded corner away from the main crowd, where the soft light of the lanterns still casts a gentle glow. the air is crisp, and you feel a sense of tranquility settling over you.

xavier pulls out a mooncake from a small bag he’s been carrying. “i thought we could have a little quiet moment away from the hustle,” he says, handing you the mooncake with a grin.

you accept it with a smile, feeling the warmth of his gesture. “that sounds perfect.”

as you both sit on a nearby bench, xavier takes out another mooncake and breaks it in half, offering you the larger piece. “here, you take the bigger half. it’s only fair.”

you laugh softly, taking the mooncake from him. “you’re too kind. but i insist you have the bigger piece.”

he shakes his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “i’m fine. besides, i’m more interested in sharing the moment with you.”

you both take a bite, savoring the sweet taste of the mooncake. the silence between you is comfortable, the occasional sound of distant laughter and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze the only interruptions.

“it’s nice out here,” you say after a moment, breaking the silence. “it feels peaceful.”

xavier nods, his gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. “yeah, it is. sometimes, it’s good to step away from the crowd and just enjoy the quiet.”

you glance at him, noticing how relaxed he looks. “do you come here often?”

“not as much as i’d like,” he admits. “but whenever i need a break from everything, this is where i come. it’s a good place to think.”

you nod, understanding. “what do you usually think about?”

xavier looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “a lot of things. my work, my goals… and sometimes, just how nice it is to be in a moment like this.”

you smile, touched by his openness. “i’m glad we’re sharing this moment together.”

he turns to you, his expression softening. “me too. it’s special to me.”

you finish your mooncake, feeling a sense of contentment. “what about you? what’s your favorite part of the festival?”

xavier takes a sip from his cup of tea, thinking for a moment. “i think it’s the way people come together, sharing these traditions. it reminds me of what’s important.”

you nod in agreement, feeling the connection between you deepen. “i feel that too. it’s nice to be reminded of the simple things.”

xavier’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you fades away. “yeah. and it’s nice to share those moments with someone who understands.”

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i’m really glad we’re here together.”

xavier reaches out, his hand brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering touch. “so am i.”

the night continues, the festival lights now distant but the feeling of togetherness strong between you. as you sit there, sharing a quiet moment with xavier, you realize how much more meaningful these simple times can be.

rafayel

as the mooncake festival fills the streets with glowing lanterns and soft laughter, rafayel stands beside you, his usual calm demeanor present, but there’s something different in his eyes tonight. a quiet intensity, like he's carrying a secret.

“let’s step away for a moment,” he says, his voice soft yet certain. he gently takes your hand, guiding you through the crowd, away from the noise, until you find a quiet corner near a beautiful lantern display. the warm, flickering light casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the small, subtle smile playing at his lips.

“i have something for you,” he finally says, pulling a small, wrapped box from the inner pocket of his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours, almost nervously, before he holds it out to you. “i thought... it might be fitting for tonight.”

you take the gift from him, fingers brushing against his briefly, and unwrap it slowly, savoring the moment. inside is a delicately crafted lantern, but not just any lantern. carved into its surface is a symbol—one you recognize from lemurian culture, something ancient and meaningful.

“rafayel… it’s beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the symbol with your fingers. “did you have this made?”

he nods, his gaze steady but filled with something deeper, something unspoken. “it’s a symbol of protection,” he explains quietly. “i wanted to give you something that would... keep you safe. especially tonight.”

his words are understated, but the weight of them presses gently against your heart. he’s never been one for grand gestures or loud proclamations. this, however, feels more intimate than any words could express.

“thank you,” you say softly, looking up at him. “it means more than you know.”

rafayel looks down for a moment, almost shy, before meeting your gaze again. “i don’t usually give gifts,” he admits, a hint of awkwardness in his tone, “but i wanted you to have something... special.”

you smile, feeling the warmth between you both, not just from the lanterns around but from the quiet affection that rafayel often keeps hidden. you step closer, feeling the moment stretch between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

“i’ll treasure it,” you promise, holding the lantern close. rafayel gives a soft nod, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips, as the night deepens, the festival around you a soft backdrop to the intimacy you share.

later in the evening, after wandering through the festival and enjoying the sights, rafayel pauses by a quiet area where lanterns hang low, casting a golden glow on the cobblestone path. he looks at you with a thoughtful expression.

“sit for me,” he says, pulling a small sketchpad and a few brushes from his bag. “i want to capture you... right now, under the light.”

you chuckle, a little shy but flattered. “right here? now?”

he nods, already setting up his canvas. “the lighting is perfect. it’ll only take a few minutes.”

you settle onto a nearby bench, feeling the soft warmth of the lanterns overhead. rafayel’s focus sharpens as he begins to work, his hands moving with precision. the strokes of his brush are deliberate, and you can tell he’s completely lost in the moment, immersed in the way the light plays across your features.

“you’re really serious about this, huh?” you tease lightly, but there’s admiration in your voice.

“i’m always serious when it comes to my art,” he replies without looking up, though there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. “and when it comes to you.”

your heart flutters at his words, but before you can respond, something soft brushes against your legs. you glance down to see a small, fluffy cat weaving its way around your ankles. you stifle a laugh, knowing rafayel’s well-known fear of cats.

the cat, curious and bold, leaps up onto the edge of rafayel’s canvas, knocking his brush from his hand. he freezes, his eyes wide in alarm, completely thrown off by the unexpected intruder.

“oh no... a monster...” he mutters, his voice tense, as he tries to inch away from the cat without making any sudden movements.

you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. “rafayel, it’s just a cat!” you giggle, standing up to shoo the cat away. “it’s not going to hurt you.”

“i know that,” he says defensively, though his body remains stiff. “it’s just... i don’t particularly like them.”

the cat, seemingly sensing his discomfort, decides to settle right on top of his palette, smudging the paint in the process. rafayel’s expression is a mix of frustration and panic, but you can’t help but find it endearing.

“you’re going to have to include the cat in the painting now,” you tease, trying to gently lift the cat away, but it stubbornly remains on the palette, its tail flicking.

rafayel sighs, shaking his head. “i suppose i don’t have much of a choice, do i?” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up despite himself.

“come on, pose with it,” he adds, his tone lighter now. “let’s make this a proper portrait.”

you sit back down, this time with the cat in your lap, and strike a playful pose. rafayel, still a little uneasy, starts painting again, but the moment has turned softer, funnier. you talk while he paints, teasing him about his fear, and he plays along, opening up more than usual as the night drifts on.

“you know,” he says quietly after a while, “i’ve never painted anyone like this before.”

“like what?” you ask, curious.

“someone who can make me forget everything else,” he murmurs, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “even the things i’m afraid of.”

the intimacy in his words, in the way he looks at you, warms you more than the lanterns surrounding you ever could. and as you sit there, cat in your lap, rafayel painting your portrait under the moonlight, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, sharing a moment that’s as tender as it is unforgettable.

caleb

the soft glow of lanterns hangs in the air, the sky above skyhaven illuminated by the full moon. you and caleb sit side by side on a low bench, surrounded by the bustling energy of the mooncake festival. despite the crowd, it feels like it’s just the two of you, tucked away from the noise, with a plate of mooncakes resting between you.

caleb nudges the plate a little closer to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “think you can catch it if i toss it to you?” he asks, already floating a mooncake slightly off the plate with his telekinesis.

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’re just going to make it hover out of my reach like last time, aren’t you?”

“i promise i’ll be nice this time,” he says with a playful grin, though you’re not entirely convinced. the mooncake hovers in front of you for a moment, just close enough to touch, before it floats upward, just a little higher. you make a grab for it, but it drifts back, teasing you.

“caleb!” you protest, though you can’t help but laugh. “you’re cheating again!”

he chuckles, watching you try again, letting you get just close enough to almost catch it before pulling it back once more. “what, you didn’t think i’d make it easy, did you?” he teases, his smile wide and warm.

you roll your eyes, standing up this time to get a better angle. “you’re impossible, you know that?” you say, taking a playful swipe at the mooncake. this time, he lets it drift into your hands, your fingers brushing against its soft surface.

“there, see? you won,” caleb says, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “but i still had fun.”

you hold the mooncake triumphantly, though the look on his face tells you he let you win on purpose. you sit back down beside him, bumping his shoulder lightly. “you’re lucky i’m a good sport.”

as you take a bite of the mooncake, caleb shifts slightly, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket. you watch him curiously as he pulls out a small box, his expression softening. he opens it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a crescent moon pendant, its silver surface glinting in the lantern light.

“what’s this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s for you,” caleb says quietly, lifting the necklace out of the box with his telekinesis. it hovers between you for a moment, the moon-shaped pendant catching the light in a way that makes it seem to glow. “i saw it and thought of you.”

you can feel your heart skip a beat as the necklace floats gently toward you, stopping just above your chest. caleb’s gaze softens as he watches you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more sincere, more intimate.

“caleb, it’s beautiful,” you whisper, your fingers brushing the pendant as it hovers in front of you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to,” he interrupts softly, his voice low. “the moon... it always reminds me of the time we spent together, back in linkon city. this festival... it’s special to me, because you’re here.”

he uses his telekinesis to carefully place the necklace around your neck, the cool metal of the pendant settling just above your collarbone. the gesture is tender, almost too intimate, and you find yourself leaning a little closer to him, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

“you’re always showing off,” you say, teasing him gently, though there’s no malice in your tone. “but... i really love it. thank you, caleb.”

his lips twitch into a small smile, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. the quiet between you feels natural, comfortable. the lanterns above flicker softly in the evening breeze, casting a gentle glow over the two of you.

“you know,” caleb says after a while, “i always liked teasing you back then. it was the only way i knew to get your attention.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “some things never change.”

he grins, leaning back slightly as his hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. the touch lingers for just a second longer than necessary, making your heart race.

“i guess some things don’t,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost in the sounds of the festival around you. “but i’m glad we have moments like this now. i wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

you smile at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “neither would i.”

as the night stretches on, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the moon shining brightly above you, the delicate weight of the necklace against your skin a constant reminder of the quiet, unspoken bond between you and caleb.

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mcu-coworkers · 2 years ago

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Posessive?

Summary: Miguel will stop at nothing to have you at his side. And you know that but who says you can't make him struggle just a little.

word count:3.5k+

A/n: Thank you guys for loving Pt.1 to this story so much I hope this second part meets your expectations! Im thinking of making a pt.3 where the spider society meets the reader let me know what you guys think!xx

Parts: I II^ III

(Gif credits to the creator ofc!^)

Walking into your lawyers office made Miguel's blood boil.

He had already ripped up the divorce papers but he wanted to send a message before he returned them to their sender considering you ignored his thousands of calls.

“Mr.O’hara it's nice to finally meet you although clients usually communicate lawyer to law-” he was quickly cut off by the loud sound of the shredded paper being tossed onto his desk.

“ I thought this would be quicker for the both of us, Tell your client that her HUSBAND said no. And that I‘ll be seeing her very soon. Thanks.” Miguel said, having that last bit dripping with sarcasm.

“Should I be concerned for my clients' well-being Mr.O’hara?” your lawyer said standing up.

Turning to face him once more Miguel snickered, “On the contrary Mr.?” he said looking for a name tag.

“Murdock. It's on the building Nelson and Murdock.” he said, smiling back at him.

“Big man, Congratulations. My wife is safe with me, just let her know I'll be seeing her soon, have a nice day Murdock.” With a nod from your lawyer he took it as his time to leave but not without whispering some insults in spanish under his breath.

Who did he think he was questioning your safety around Miguel? You were the safest at his side and his side only.

And no one was taking that from him, not even you.

Quickly after he left your Lawyer wasted no time in contacting you.

Two rings passed before you picked up.

To tell the truth your heart was pounding. It felt so soon for him to have already turned in the papers.

“Hello?” you didn't mean to sound as quiet and defeated as you did but who were you trying to fool this had been and was going to be a very tough moment in your life.

“Mrs.O’Hara how are you?” he answered calmly.

Confused by the surname you stopped walking in the middle of the busy airport.

“I'm fine, did you receive the papers?” you asked eager to find out exactly what happened.

“Yes, I did but they're not signed or intact for that matter. It seems like he gave them to a cat to have as a toy."He said holding up the paper realizing what he thought were rips were actually done by claws, strange.

“Ay Miguel.” You said, you knew he never took any news well but you never thought he’d pull something like this.

“He also left a message for you.” he said, setting the paper aside.

“And that was?” you said curious as to what he could possibly have to say.

“Tell your client that her husband said no, and that he will be seeing you very soon, he put a big emphasis on the word husband.” he said pausing.

Waiting for a response from you he added on, “Ms. O’Hara if i'm being honest here this doesn't sound like a man who wanted a divorce.” he said reconsidering the course of the situation.

“At this point I'm not really sure what he wants anymore, I don't think I ever actually knew to begin with.” you said, beginning to question your judgment.

“Well if you’d like to continue with the one sided divorce process we can do that otherwise I think you should speak to Mr.O’Hara and sort things out.” He said.

Now you had a lot to think about, A shiver went up your spine as you realized exactly what was happening.

“Y/n? Is everything okay? Do you need help?” Your lawyer asked on the other side. He always knew a little more than he was led to believe which meant he had to be cautious with how much he involved himself.

“Oh yeah, yes I am fine just considering my options, can I get back to you on that?” You asked quickly beginning to exit the airport.

“Yes, of course whatever you need, give me a call.” he said, he could hear your breath picking up and your heart beat gaining speed.

“Thank you, Mr. Murdock.” and with that you hung up the phone and found your driver.

If there was one thing Miguel didn't like it was not having you by his side and to make matters worse not knowing where you were.

You didn't doubt for a second Miguel had already found you; it was just a matter of time before he got to you.

Angry would be the understatement of the year.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax remembering why you were in this situation in the first place.

It was his fault you left, and if he wanted to bring you back then he’d have to travel across the world and do it face to face.

After all, you did book a flight to Barcelona thinking it would be far enough to not ever be able to go back to him no matter how strong the urge.

Your phone rang again, thinking it was your lawyer, you answered.

“Was there something you forgot to mention earlier?” you asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Hiring a man as your lawyer, you always know where to hit me so it hurts mi amor.” chills ran down your spine at the sound of that raspy voice.

“Miguel, what do you want?” you said trying to put up a front.

“You. Back in our house, at my side.” he said with a demanding tone.

The audacity of this man, you'd been distraught and in tears practically the entire journey here but now? All you felt was anger.

“No.” was all you said, the front was gone, these were your genuine emotions now.

“No? Como que no? You're mine, don't you forget that.” he said, beginning to raise his voice.

“ I didn't forget that, you did Miguel so it's either you start remembering or I start forgetting too. Ya no voy a estar de gata a tus pies. I'm worth more than that.” you said trying to hold back the shakiness in your voice.

It was helpless because he already heard it.

“Mi amor, I never thought that of you please, come home and let's talk. I'm begging you don't do this to us. I need you.” He said hoping he could sway you in his direction.

“This is the longest you've spoken to me in over a month Miguel, you realize that right? And all for what, because I disobeyed you?” you asked, hoping he'd deny it but all you got was silence.

Chuckling you smiled, at least that part of him never changed.

“Baby, plea-” he tried.

“No, Sign the papers or I'm moving in a different direction Miguel. I let my love for you stand in the way for too long and you don't even have the decency to tell me you don't love me anymore. I'm done.” you said as he began to speak over you trying to stop you.

No one had ever tested Miguel's patience this much.

You not letting him get a sentence out was only bringing him closer to the edge.

“Y/n I swear if you make me-” dead tone. You hung up.

“HIJO DE PUTA!” he said as he punched the back of the passenger seat in front of him.

“Everything alright sir?” his driver asked mostly only concerned for his own safety.

No one liked seeing Miguel upset ten times out of nine everyone else ended up in whatever mood he was in.

“Yes, Just get me to the jet please.” he said, rubbing his temples gently.

Miguel fell in love with your sense of leadership when he had first met you, god was he paying for it now.

He tried to calm himself before boarding the plane. He needed to think of what he could say to get you back at his side.

He knew he needed to change, it's his best bet at making you remember just how much he loves you.

Just as the plane was taking off his gizmo showed a hologram of Jess.

“So, did you get your girl back?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face.

Miguel froze, he kept his business out of the spider society just in case anyone ever turned on them.

Keeping you safe was his number one priority.

“Lyla spilled Miguel, she's worried about you and says she's never seen you this bad before.” she said with a slight tone of concern. She knew better than to show Miguel she was worried, he would just push her away and tell her he was fine.

“Everything will be fine, I'll be gone two days tops think you can handle that?” he asked with a small smile on his face.

He knew Jess could do more than handle it; he just needed a distraction from the chaos he’d brought to his marriage.

“Yeah well when you bring her back, and you will, I ‘d like to meet the person who tolerates your broodiness, hell i ‘ll probably ask for some tips while i'm at it.” she said, making him chuckle.

No one could do what you did for him.

“Keep me updated on the canon events and keep Hobie out of my office.” he said remembering the last time he snuck in.

“You got it boss, don't forget we're all rooting for you.” she said before hanging up.

We? Who's we? He was gonna have a long talk with Lyla about confidentiality when he got back.

------

It has now been just about two days since you last spoke to Miguel and since then you’ve received one flower arrangement every hour with a message from Miguel and your bill at every place you visited covered by, you guessed it, Miguel.

And still you had to be graced by the presence of the man himself.

Barcelona was your chance to really find out if the grass was greener on the other side and that meant no giving in to Miguel's romantic gestures.

It was hard when every single flower warmed your heart just a little more every time.

It reminded you of when he’d cut flowers from random gardens on his way to your house.

They were never this fancy or even wrapped in paper for that matter, but you loved them more than anything else because he gave them to you out of love.

He gave these to you seeking forgiveness, something he wouldn't be doing if you hadn't been pushed over the edge.

Sighing, you set them aside with the rest of the arrangements and decided to go for a coffee.

Finding a little shop you sat on the patio after ordering your Latte with a croissant to accompany it.

Basking in the sun your mind couldn't help but wonder where he was, if he was already watching you from a distance waiting to catch you off guard.

You weren't too far off.

He was watching you, from a safe distance just to make sure you were safe, and that no other man was coming near you but mostly to make sure you were safe.

He thought that if he gave you space it’d make you miss him.

The flowers and paying for you were just in case you did miss him. Or at least that's what he made them out to be.

Miguel was trying his best to not let his possessive ways take over him and just carry you on the plane and take you home but he oh so wanted this to be over already.

But he too decided to turn a new leaf in Barcelona, one that would promise to never let you forget just how much he loved you, no matter how shitty of a day he had at work.

Miguel was brought out of his thoughts when he saw you leaving the cafe not because you were leaving but because some man was following you.

His body tensed as the man tapped on your shoulder and handed you something.

Before he knew it he was walking towards you and pulling you into him by the waist.

“¿Ya terminaste amor?( you finished here love?)” he said, smiling down at you before turning to look at the idiot who touched you.

Who did he think he was touching you when you belonged to Miguel?

Smiling a thank you to the stranger you met mere minutes ago you begin walking without answering Miguel's question.

“Who the hell was that guy?” he said following you down the street.

“ I have no idea Miguel, what I do know is that you've been watching me for the past two days.” you said trying to hide your smirk.

Miguel stopped, you had outsmarted him.

“Only because you won't speak to me.” he said trying to hide the smile on his face.

He was a proud husband but now was not the time.

“Sucks doesn't it? Being ignored by your spouse when you just wanted to give them all your love.” you said opening the door to your new home.

“Y/n mi amor I get it, I'm an asshole and I deserve whatever it is you throw my way but please come home and you can throw it at me there.” he said trying to get close to you but all it did was make you take a step back.

“Baby please, just come here.” he said as he took another step towards you.

He was quick but you were quicker getting out of the way.

“No Miguel, you treated me like some toy that you used when you were bored. And when you got tired of me you tossed me to the side and pretended that I wasn't there. Do you know how it feels to be treated like an item? A disposable item?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper but that didn't stop you.

“For the last ten years of our relationship there wasn't one day that you didn't tell me you loved me. Even when we were fighting. Tell me Miguel, when was the last time you told me you loved me? As a matter of fact, When was the last time we even slept in the same bed? You can't tell me can you?” you asked, waiting for a response from him but all you got was silence.

Your words finally began to actually sink in to Miguel and for once he didn't know what to do.

Balancing the literal multiverse on his shoulders distracted him so much he hadn't realized the damage he was doing to your marriage.

But you’d had more than enough time to realize what it did to you.

Shaking your head you looked away as tears brimmed your eyes.

You wanted so badly to be strong for yourself but seeing the end to what you thought was your forever was making it really difficult.

“Fuck.” was all Miguel could muster up at the moment, he needed to find a way to fix this.

Letting out a shaky breath, “Y/n, I know that I ‘ve changed but there's just been so much pressure on me to fix things and they really need me right now, this is the only way I can keep everyone safe, keep you safe.” he said hoping you’d understand.

Nodding you looked out the window and admired the view.

“ I understand, the multiverse is important to you. But I can't sit around waiting for the day you decide to consider me too. And I know that sounds selfish but I can't help it. I'm jealous of Miguel. Jealous of the people who see you more than I do. Jealous of the office you spend time in. Jealous of the Lyla.” you actually had to laugh after that.

“ I sound crazy, Jealous of a damn AI all because it gets your attention more than me.” you said tears finally falling.

“Well guess what Miguel, I won't do it anymore, I hate this feeling. I understand protecting the multiverse is important so go, go be a hero it's who you are and it's amazing. I could never stand in the way of that no matter how much it’d hurt me.” you said leaning back on the kitchen counter.

You’d hoped that’d be enough to get him to go.

In a second Miguel had his arms around you and his head buried in your shoulder.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you realized he was crying.

“Miguel?” you asked gently, slightly confused by the reaction.

“I'm so sorry baby please, I need you. Without you I'm just the shell of the man I should be. I can't live a life without you, it's pointless. Just please come home and we can fix this together. I ‘ll do whatever you want. I ‘ll get on my knees and beg if that's what it takes.” he said as he began to get down on his knees.

“Miguel no-” you whispered as you tried pulling him back up.

“Then what baby you tell me and I ‘ll do it please tell me how to fix this. ¡Estoy loco por ti y lo sabes!( I'm crazy for you and you know it!)” he yelled, he was mere seconds away from a panic attack his breathes were shortening quickly and you noticed it.

“Miguel? Baby slow down, you need to breathe.” you said lowering yourself to meet his face.

“ I can’t- I can-” he said as he tried regaining his breath.

He hadn't had one of these since he became spiderman so an inhaler was not an option. So you did the next best thing, you kissed him.

Deeply, passionate to make sure he slowed down his breathing completely.

Slowly it began to work so you pulled away to allow him to catch his breath.

Analyzing his face you’d only hoped it worked, “Better?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not yet.” he said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back in for another kiss this time much deeper.

Miguel began kissing you like a man who’d been starved as he pulled you closer wrapping your legs around his waist in the process.

And just like that you were lost in him all over again.

Whatever speech you gave yourself about the grass being greener was gone in the wind.

Quickly Miguel began undressing you while you pulled his clothes off in return.

“No sabes cuanto te e necesitado mi amor. (you don't know how much i've needed you my love.)” he said as left a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Callate y hazme el amor Miguel.(shut up and make love to me.”you said breathlessly as he flipped you over on the kitchen floor placing his tip at your entrance.

Slipping into you slowly he clenched his jaw at the feeling of your tightness around him. Oh how he missed this feeling.

Gasping you tried to adjust to his size again , no matter how many times you’d had sex in the past it's like this man got bigger and bigger every time.

Hearing your soft moans encouraged Miguel to keep going until he was fully buried in you, “dios mio.” was all he could manage to say as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Miguel-” you moaned, signaling him to move.

“ I know baby I know.” he said as he pulled himself out completely before thrusting back in and finding his pace making you arch your back in the process.

Slowly he began building up his speed until all he could hear was the beautiful sound of your voice moaning his name endlessly.

This was his heaven.

Watching you as your face contorted in full euphoria at the pleasure he was giving you.

Taking your hand in his he gave it a squeeze that you returned as you used your other hand to pull him in for a breathless kiss.

“Miguel ya” you said, getting closer to your climax.

“Wait for me mami i'm almost there.” he said as he sped up making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

This man would be the end of you.

By this point you were a moaning mess holding on to the last strands of sanity you had left waiting for Miguel.

Once you felt Miguel twitch inside of you it was clear he was close, you pulled him close and began kissing your way up to his ear.

“Miguel baby, I need you hazme tuya mi amor.” you moaned, and with that you felt his fangs dig into your shoulder as he filled you with his seed allowing you to cum with him.

You could've passed out from the immense amount of pleasure you were feeling, or the reaction to his spider venom, but missing a moment of this was not an option.

After Miguel recovered he realized what he’d done, “Shit, I'm sorry I didn’t think-” he said, beginning to slightly panic.

He’d always been able to control himself in bed.

Smiling, you pulled him in for another kiss, “It’s okay, I liked it.” you said earning yourself a look of surprise from him.

Laying his head back down on your chest you sighed in content.

“Eres la luz de mi vida, el sol para mi luna. (you are the light of my life, the sun to my moon.)” he said smiling.

Laughing you massaged the back of his neck as you ran your hands through his hair.

“ The light of your life would like to get off this hard floor.” you said as you wiggled to ease the soreness of your back.

Miguel wasted no time in picking you up and taking you to the bedroom.

“ This looks like a much more suitable place to spend the week.” he said, laying you down gently.

“Week? Isn't there a canon event that needs your rescuing?” you asked, to tell the truth your heart was overjoyed at the thought of him staying here with you.

“You, you're my cannon event and it's gonna take all of me to rescue you.” he said as he kissed your forehead.

“My hero.” you said as you laid your head on his chest admiring his relaxed features.

“Te amo mi cielo.” he whispered.

“Y yo a ti cariño.” you said, closing your eyes as you fell asleep alongside the love of your life.

The road to forever looked a lot brighter now

tagslist: @cooch1ecruncher @hoseokslefteyebrow @marcswife21 @whatdudtheysay @foxglove-spidey @smyfmj @mushy-mushroom04 @flooftoof @aepinkoutsold @scoliobean @elliaze

#miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #spider-man 2099 #across the spiderverse

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voxslays · 3 months ago

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Making Caramel Apples Alastor x Reader

(Welcome to Haztober day one! I will be posting a new Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss inspired fic every day of October! I hope you enjoy! Also I know I’m technically posting this on the 30th….but it’s 7:45 for me…so…It’s literally October first. Also why isn’t tumblr schedule posting working??? So confused.)

Alastor wasn’t one to usually participate in group activities usually liking to be on his own but, maybe he’d participate this one time. He closes the book he was reading and places it down nicely. He stands from his spot, straightens his bowtie and suit and then starts to walk over to where the group activity was. Alastor walks up behind the others and watches them decorating the hotel. Of course Alastor wouldn’t participate at all if there was a possibility of getting dirty (with all the glitter glue from Charlie). So he just watched for now.

“Hi Alastor!” He heard an excited voice from behind him. Alastor turned his head to see who was speaking and saw it was you. He smiled wider and put his hands in his pockets. “Ah. It’s a pleasure to see you, My dear. What are we doing around here if you don’t mind me asking?” He tilted his head and leaned a bit more forwards towards you, curious to hear your response.

“Oh! I’m making caramel apples!” You exclaim happily. “Ahh. That’s wonderful. How are they turning out so far? Have they tasted very good or have the apples been rotten within?” Alastor chuckled to himself, amused by his own joke. He had a dark sense of humor but sometimes his words could be taken seriously. “W-what? Uhm…I don't think so…” You say worriedly, holding up one of the un-caramelized apples and checking it. He laughed and waved a hand. “I’m only joking, dear. I’m sure they’re fine.” Alastor looked down at the apples, still a little suspicious. “You haven’t been eating them have you?” He asks. “Maybe like one or two…but now I’m seriously concerned.” You say, your voice wavering with uneasiness.

“And you didn’t get sick..?” Alastor tilted his head curiously. He still couldn’t really believe that someone had eaten a couple of the apples that he was now slightly convinced could be rotten. “I ate them like a minute ago….how long does it take for poison to kick in!?” You say, your heart racing with anxiety and paranoia. “Well, that depends on the poison I believe- Wait, did you actually EAT them!?” Alastor asks, now worried as well.

You suddenly feel dizzy, and pass out due to stress. Alastor quickly caught you. He didn’t want you falling to the ground head first and possibly waking up with a huge headache. He held you up by your shoulder and lowered his ear to your mouth, listening for a second to see if you were breathing. Once Alastor heard and felt your breathing he slowly placed you on the ground, but he made sure your head rested against his knee so you would be comfortable.

Alastor was kneeled down beside you, he had his arm holding your hand. His ears twitched and he looked down at you as you awoke again. “Are you alright, my dear?” He hummed softly in thought and gave you a light squeeze of your hand before letting it go. “You just passed out a second ago. I had caught you before you fell and I didn’t want you to get a headache. How are you feeling exactly? Your head isn’t hurting too badly is it?”

“I'm fine.” You reassure him. He nodded his head and looked you up and down for a moment to make sure you didn’t have any wounds that were unnoticed due to your fainting. “You don’t feel sick at all? No nausea or anything?” You shake your head. He relaxed a little more once you said that, no nausea was pretty good. That indicated you weren’t poisoned. “Well, that’s good. Would you like to sit up or something, or perhaps a glass of water-?”

“Can we make the apples together?” You interrupted. Alastor seemed taken aback by your request. He definitely didn’t expect that response from you. Alastor tilted his head questionably and then smiled. “You want to make the apples together.. with me? You actually trust me to do it with you?” He asks. “Yeah, why not?” He chuckled softly and nodded his head in agreement, he was actually really surprised at your enthusiasm and eagerness to work with him. Most of the time he didn’t get many requests to work together with him unless it involved a deal. “Alright, I suppose I’ll help make the apples with you. But no funny business, dear.” You agree and start dipping the apples in the caramel together.

Alastor made sure to be cautious with anything to do with food. Especially after just seeing you pass out. He was sure you just fainted from stress and anxiety, but still. He carefully dipped each apple into the caramel, making sure to coat the apple in the thick sticky caramel. Alastor finished coating each apple he dipped into the caramel sauce and had placed each one on its respective plate. This was already a lot more effort that he ever put into one of Charlie’s group activities. He then wiped his gloved hands together to get rid of any caramel that got stuck to his hands. He seemed happy with the outcome of the caramel apples he and you had made together.

“I believe the task is finished…” Alastor says as he finishes cleaning up. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.” He said with a small chuckle. “It was really fun! Thank you for the help!” You say happily. The idea of doing a group activity and actually having fun was a new, almost bizarre concept to Alastor. Especially when it was just making caramel apples. He smiled wider and chuckled. “Yes, it certainly was… entertaining.”

He looked down at the finished caramel apples and seemed quite pleased that they turned out so well. He was actually quite proud of the work you and he had done, and this was a new feeling to him when it came to group activities. He then looked at you and tilted his head softly with a smile. “Perhaps we’ll do more activities together in the future, my dear.” Alastor says. “That would be fun.” You say as you pick up the tray with the apples and put them in the fridge. “I’ll see you later!” Alastor nodded as he watched you take the tray to the fridge. A part of him felt kind of warm inside which was strange. Was it from the group activity? He wasn’t sure, but it was… different and warm. He smiled a little wider watching you walk off. “I’ll see you later, my dear.” He says with content.

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the-winter-spider · 1 month ago

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Invisible | Part 23

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff

A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻

The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.

As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”

Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”

“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”

Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”

Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”

The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”

“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”

Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"

Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”

Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.

“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.

“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”

Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”

Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”

“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”

Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”

Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”

Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”

"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"

Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."

Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”

Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”

Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”

Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”

Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”

He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”

Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”

Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”

As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.

Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”

Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”

Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”

Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”

Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”

Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”

Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”

“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”

Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”

“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”

“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”

Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”

Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”

Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”

Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”

The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”

Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”

Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”

Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”

Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”

Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.

Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”

Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”

That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”

Sam grinned. “Deal.”

Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”

Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.

Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.

Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”

Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”

As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”

Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.

Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”

Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”

Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”

Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”

As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”

Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.

Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”

Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”

Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”

“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”

Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”

Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”

Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”

Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”

Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”

Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”

“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.

The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" you asked

"For loving me, for letting me love you."

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”

“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”

You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”

You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”

“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”

“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”

Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”

“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”

Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”

“Always,” he said softly.

You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”

Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”

Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”

Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”

Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.

He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”

You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.

Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes x you #seb stan fanfic #sebastian stan

150 notes · View notes

becomingmina · 1 year ago

Text

FUCKBOY MIN 2. little series w/ LEEKNOW + HYUNJIN

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader x lee minho genre + warnings: slight angst wc: 3.5k mina's note: I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took a while! This part was was like a filler, I know.

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

series chapter ➵ part one, part three ending one

“You done crying yet or?” Hyunjin jokes after watching over you for the past thirty minutes. He was in the drivers seat handing out countless tissues to you, who was in his passenger’s.

“Hyunjin, stop,” you crack up at his teasing. You were done crying now, you just weren’t done being upset yet. A heavy feeling still lingering around your shoulders as you try your best to block out Minho’s words circulating in your head.

“Are you still not going to tell me what he said to you in the bathroom?” A hand comes to wipe away the last of your tears, his tone gentler now.

Hyunjin can see the marks on your neck, anyone can. He can tell what happened in the bathroom and he knows Minho must’ve said something to overwhelmed you to cry, but he just doesn’t know what exactly.

“I don’t want to re-live it Hyunjin,” you couldn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him that you said the L word to Minho within the same month you got rejected by him. Hyunjin could never judge you for that but how can you tell him without telling the whole thing, how it was forced out of you. Dirty? Dirty because of Hyunjin? The words repeats again, haunting you. Hyunjin was involved in Minho’s mean and hurtful words and you feel guilty. Hyunjin did absolutely nothing wrong, he didn’t deserved to be dragged into whatever mess was going on between you and Minho.

“Why? Is it because you might cry again?” He playfully says, not wanting you to feel downhearted at your own actions. He lets out a giggle after observing how you quickly pierced your eyes at him sassily - something you picked up from him. It doesn't matter what situation you're in, Hyunjin always makes it light hearted. He's so playful but in a way where he is still careful and you never fail to warm up to him. Just like this moment.

“I just got my heart broken by the city’s fuckboy, I don’t need the city’s heartbreaker to feed into it,” you chuckle and he follows with furrowed brows, unable to keep a straight face at the names.

“Those names are crazy Y/N,” he remarks.

“I actually don’t think you’re a heartbreaker Hyunjin, it’s just what everyone calls you,” you reassured him, hand finding his to give him a tight squeeze.

"I probably am one," he held yours back tighter, letting you know he didn’t take it to heart. "I'm curious though," he continues .

“Hmm?”

“Curious to why the city’s fuckboy keeps yelling at you,” you eyed him again, arms crossed this time with a fake pout. “Or is it that you’re just a cry baby?” he laughs but he was serious though, he wanted to see why Minho keeps leaving you in tears.

“I’m not a cry baby,” you defend yourself. “You’re probably tired of me crying hey? I know how to smile too!” To be fair, you were kind of a cry baby especially as this is the second time he has picked you up and wiped away your tears, all within a month.

“Wait, can you actually?” he continues.

“I’m actually really sweet Hyunjin, I promise!”

“How about the city’s heartbreaker takes you out one day?” The tension from the incident with Minho start to disappear as Hyunjin slowly soothes it, directing your attention somewhere else - something he is very good at.

“Hmm?” brows furrowed together. His question had taken you by surprise, you were unsure if he was serious. “Like on a date?” You clarified.

“Mhmm,” he confirmed. “So you can show me how sweet you can be and that you’re not just a cry baby.” He already knows how sweet you are. Last couple of weeks you guys spent together talking about everything and nothings have really shown him what type of person you are. You were caring, cheerful, playful. You loved to tease, loves to be teased and takes on jokes like a champ. You were just full of laughter and happiness and meeting someone like you is hard for Hyunjin. It seems that he has developed a soft spot for you, but unlike Minho he isn’t afraid to show you.

You just giggle back, unaware of the thoughts going through Hyunjin’s head, everything falling into silence right after.

Hyunjin is a lovely person and you hate to say yes just to distract yourself from Minho. But Hyunjin has that effect on you, where he has made you forgot about Minho whenever you’re with him. You don’t know how to explain it. Like earlier tonight before all of this, when you went with him to the party, you had zero care for anyone and anything besides Hyunjin and wine. Or like right now, Minho was slowly fading away in your head. If you give him a chance, maybe he’ll be better than Minho. He always was, seeing as he was the one who was here, unlike Minho who didn’t even chase after you.

“Hyune?”

“Hmm?”

“A date with you sounds cool,” your silly smile returning. He couldn’t control his smile back, his eyes turning into thin lines as his upper lips disappears a little showing his white pearlys.

The man who broke your heart an hour ago long forgotten, in moments like this.

“You okay hyung?” Han asks, after observing Minho for the past hour just downing his drinks.

“Yeah.. Good.. I’m good.” Minho could barely reply, slurring on his words clearly intoxicated.

“What happened in the bathroom? What did you do to her?” Han was worried about you both. He still doesn't understand what you did to get Minho to push you away like that, especially when Minho would used to reschedule his plans with Han and their friend group just to be with you. It was clear to Han that you guys had something going on. Minho wasn’t much of a drinker too but seeing him suddenly finish all these drinks made Han sense something was up.

“Nothing, I just.. Nothing just shooed her away like usual,” Minho replied, acting uninterested in the conversation.

“Marks on your neck tells me otherwise,” Han replied back, eyeing up at his hyung. Minho doesn’t reply, instead he stays quiet, one hand coming into contact with the marks you left on his skin. His head is in a daze, the scene of you pressing kisses to his neck, how soft your plump lips felt, your tiny hands holding the back of his neck to keep him in place while the other was wrapped around his..

“Hyung? Hey hyung?” Han snaps the older man out of his thoughts, holding him by the shoulder trying to steady him. “She’s a good girl. If you don’t like her don’t do that to her.”

“She gave me the marks Jisung.. I didn’t do anything to her,” Minho huffed, trying to defend himself.

“Sure, it’s not like she didn’t walk out of the bathroom with marks herself,” Minho just rolls his eyes. “If you don’t like her like that, stop hurting her.”

“Looks like you also want to fuck her, seeing as how you’re talking about her-”

“-Just because I feel sorry for her doesn’t mean I want to fuck her, hyung. No girl should be treated like that,”

“Whatever,” Minho pushes the smaller boy’s arms off his shoulders making him stumble back a bit.

“See how you act? You’re a dick. How is it that every other girl gets let off easily when they admit they like you and when Y/N does it she gets yelled at?” Han was over his hyung’s antics, also fuming from the way he was pushed even though he was only trying to help him up.

“Last month you pushed her away then tonight you’re all over her again just because she’s with someone else. You’re so possessive. What did you do to her in the bathroom?!” Han has never called Minho out like this but the way Minho acted was very possessive. It was like he hates seeing other people interested or talk about things that was his. In this instance, you.

“I don’t know,” as much as he hates to admit it, your words engraved itself to his brain. He couldn’t come up with a reason why he treated you the way he did tonight or ever. Just the words I love you bouncing in his head, hitting every surface of his brain. Did he like you back? He’s not in-love with you right? Or was he just possessive over you? Did he want you to himself only? Minho was overwhelmed with his thoughts, unable to voice anything else, eyes just seeking some sort of help from the younger boy.

“You okay hyung?”

“No.”

A couple weeks go by and Minho catches himself thinking about you every second pf his day. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He contacted so many girl just to ghost them before they meet up as he has this feeling of guilt. Not towards the girls, they don’t mean anything to him but guilt towards you. It was like he was doing something wrong to you. But you weren’t even his and he doesn’t even like you back. He has just be constantly in and out, and his friends aren’t any help either. Well to be fair, he’s only been keeping his thoughts to himself so it’s not really his friend’s fault. But you and Hyunjin has been the topic of the week, updates of where you guys went or what you guys did was brought up every single day in conversation.. well ofcourse it would, seeing as how Hyunjin and Minho shares mutual friends.

“You think he really likes her?” Felix asks the others.

“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have come with her to the party the other week,” Chan clarified and they nod in agreement.

“Why wonder we haven’t seen him all of last month, he was with Y/N.”

Minho listens to the conversation, quietly contributing and attacking Hyunjin in his head. Yeah but she doesn’t like him. She clearly loves someone else.

“Wasn’t she one of your flings?” Chan’s question wakes Minho up.

“Hmm? Y/N?” Your name comes out more tender than expected from his lips. “I don’t remember,” Minho lies.

“Anyways, I reckon the photo he took of her from earlier this week was cute,” Seungmin says, the rest giggling like high school girls at their friends love life.

“Looks like the heartbreaker Hyunjin found someone he really likes.”

“And Y/N seems to really like him too,” Minho was furious, wanting to tell them what the reality was but even himself wasn’t sure if it was true anymore. Maybe you have fallen for Hyunjin. Maybe you have forgotten all about Minho now.

He looks to his side, watching Felix swipe through Hyunjin’s instagram story. It was the first time he saw you since. You were as pretty as ever. Hair in a half up half down look, in a black dress looking and smiling at Hyunjin’s camera.

Hyunjin had taken you out to one of his favourite bakery and art museum. He had told you to wear something pretty, and be ready by noon. You got dolled up, picking out your most gorgeous dress and by the time he promised, he messaged you to come outside. Hyunjin was lean up against his car, his camera strap across his body, a small bouquet in his hand. It was something you never experienced before, you couldn’t help but smile instantly at the sight. Oh how sweet he was, and definitely very handsome.

“You look like you can be very sweet, Y/N,” he playfully says before pulling you into a hug. You hold him back, arms wrapping around his body pressing your cheeks against his toned chest, staying there a little bit longer than you extended.

“Ready to go?” He asks, and you remove yourself.

“Mhmm, ready to go and ready to show you I can be sweet!” The conversation you had with yourself, a couple days ago still implanted in your head. You will give it a try with Hyunjin. He has always treated you well, despite his title he received from everyone, but a little part of you is afraid. Minho treated you well too, but turned his back on you the second you liked him. You were afraid you were going to fall for it again. Hyunjin could never make you fall for him then ditch you right? But to be honest, has Minho ever picked you up in broad day light like this? No. You guys would sneak around all the time, and was only ever relaxed in a closed off area - that being his house. Minho has never planned a date this. But did your heart wanted that more than this? A unlike tingling heavy feeling fallen in your chest, the feeling is different.

As Felix continues to tap his screen, more images of the date appears. You guys spend a while in the coffee shop just goofing around with each other, then at the art museum.. Oh the art museum.. countless photos of you standing infront of and looking at the art works makes Minho go red.

“Fuck-” Minho bites, fist forming into balls as he feels his blood boiling. Minho was angry now, he was jealous. He didn’t ever show you off like this and was mad someone was able to do.

“Gotta go, gotta go call Bella,” Minho walks out, everyone else looking around trying to seek a reason why he was acting like that.

It was dark and late, 9pm to be exact. Silence fill the air as you and Hyunjin both just sit in his car. You shyly glance over to him, unsure of what to do now, he just gives you a smile. You really enjoyed your day with him, it was fun and quite the romantic day. But do you invite him in now? Do you take it slow? What would you do if you invite him in anyways?

"I enjoyed today with you too Hyune," you break the silence. "I'm actually really tried from everything though" you lie, you needed to distant yourself for the rest of the night, to work out what you were feeling. You needed to take it slow. The tingling sensation before was still around you, a feeling you can't explain. "I think I might start ready for bed," you observe his reactions, but there is none. Just him keeping a small smile like earlier.

"We did so much today, I’m tired and ready for bed too," he agrees, one hand reaches over to hold yours. He was so soft, it's like he knows the barrier you had set up. He doesn't questions it and just lets it be.

"Thank you Hyune," you reply, twisting your wrist so your fingers can interlock with his now, giving him some sort of affirmation. You lean in towards him and ahe air grows a bit cold now. You had to do it, to show your gratitude. You continue to move in, giving him a peck to his cheeks. Hyunjin freezes in return, the sudden affection makes him flustered. "Goodnight Hyune." You retracted back your hand, collecting your stuff, along with your nice bouquet of flowers and exiting his car.

It was clear to Hyunjin after the peck that he liked you. He really liked you but he was still unsure of where your feelings stands. Regardless, he wanted to keep trying with you.

You were in the middle of the dance floor, to the grand party that Hyunjin asked you to be his date at. Well technically, you were invited by Minho's mum but you can't turn down a cute date with Hyunjin.

“Where are you?” You ask on the phone, eyes searching for a lost Hyunjin. He has disappeared from your sight so suddenly after you guys had spend a hour of drinking the free wine.

“At the table we were before," you can hear him slurring on his words, unable to keep your giggles in at how tipsy he is.

“Okay, coming! Stay where you are," as you turn around someone pulls you back, making you stumble a bit forward into them.

“Can I talk to you?” You encounter a familiar face. Minho was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist not painfully but strong enough for you not to pull back. Your eyes scan his face. He looked so different. He had his hair down covering his forehead, something he never wears out in public. His eyes were coated with a thin cover of gloss, almost looks like he had been draining in his emotions for the longest time ever. Minho looked so soft, you were taken back.

“I gotta go. Hyune’s waiting for me,” you reply trying to pull away from him. You needed to avoid Minho, unsure why but you had too.

“Hyune?”

“Yes, Hyune,” you managed to escape and walked off, only because he loosen his grip. Minho was left on the middle of the dance floor, watching you make your way through the crowd.

“Hyune?” He whispers to himself, confused. A nickname already? Maybe the boys were right.

You don’t know why but a sudden urge to spin around got the best of you.

“Hey Min!” The nickname makes him instantly turn around but he knows it wasn’t going to be you standing there, so he prepared himself for whoever was there.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” he lied to the gorgeous woman infront of him, Bella.

You watch as Minho smile at her, his hand coming in contact with her cheek. You spun around again, not wanting to watch any more of what he got up to, going back to Hyunjin.

The music was blaring now and you feel yourself getting light headed from the countless shots and mimosas you consumed. You lean into Hyunjin’s chest, wanting to stay still for a minute to regain control of your body.

Minho doesn't know how he got here but there he stood a couple steps infront of you, watching you with Hyunjin. He has Bella in-front of him holding his hands as she sways to the music, seeking for his attention.

“Hey, I’m losing you here Y/N,” Hyunjin laughs, although him himself was feeling the same thing. He had to control it, he couldn’t let you both loose to alcohol.

“I’m so tired Hyune,” you replied, unable to move your head from his upper chest.

“You wanna go sit down?” He asked, hands coming to your waist to help hold you up. The small contact with your body makes you widen your eyes. You steady yourself back on your heels as you make eye contact with the sweet boy in front you. Your eyes catch his lips for a second, they were so plump, so full and the perfect shade of pink, almost a reddish. A thought ran through your head and you feel guilty about it but you wanted to do it. You want to feel his lips on yours to confirm that feeling that keeps staying around in your chest. His eyes flutter from your eyes to your lips. You looked so pretty like this, your cheeks was pink, eyes looks so bright and full, you were so kissable. Hyunjin slowly leans in, one had holding your face and when he doesn’t see a signal of you avoiding it, he closes the gap between your lips.

Minho’s heart sinks watching Hyunjin kiss you. He has always been possessive of you, hating when your attention is on another person. He has always been annoyed, always been angry but right now, he feels broken, he feels hurt. He didn’t come here with Bella because he liked her. He came here with Bella because he wanted to use her as a distraction. He wanted to use her to get over you. He doesn’t realise it until now, after witnessing the kiss, that since the night you confessed your feelings to him, he felt the same. He felt the same but he was too afraid to say it, to show it. Liking someone was overwhelming, let alone loving someone. Minho was just afraid.

The feeling doesn’t go away, it’s heavy it’s numbing your body. You pull away from Hyunjin’s lips, hands on his chest to help you detach. You can’t keep his eye contact, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hyune, I..” you look up over his shoulder and catches Minho eyes as he towers over Bella. Minho stops to observe you, observing your next move. For a second the world stops, everyone’s face was blurred, the music goes from blaring loud to a long beep, something you hear when your brain restarts similar to the sound in movies when the main character watches someone close to them die. It was only you and Minho.

{Tag list 🏷️@20minsat180dgegrees : @feybin : @whosanaanyway : @k0nst3nceee : @hoes4lino : @ihatewritingshit : @armystay89 : @redstayrosie : @captainchrisstan }

#becomingmina #lee know angst #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz request #Lee Minho #lee minho angst

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