#and I’m afraid that when he leaves on friday i may not speak to him again

[dweebalina]

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[fullybooked]

What Are My Other Options?

Title: What are my other options? Pairing: Insomniac!PeterParker x Reader Word count: 9.6k Warnings: mentions of cheating (but Peter would never) Notes: F/T = favorite topping Summary: The reader has come to the conclusion that Peter is cheating on them. What else are they supposed to think when he’s always running off and constantly canceling their plans? That he’s Spider-Man?

It wasn’t often that you got a chance to dress up anymore. As a grad student, there was very little spare time to spend on your appearance, and when that kind of rare opportunity arose, you jumped at it. So you didn’t feel bad about spending the last hour in front of a mirror, tossing around outfits, and destroying the closet in the process.

The occasion? The New York Times Gala. You’d been working for the biggest news outlet in the state for your graduate program for investigative journalism, a spot you had fought tooth and nail for. Every News Outlet and invited celebrity would be there, the Daily Bugle, The Wallstreet Journal, USA Today, and you’d heard whispers of Tony Stark attending. You hadn’t even learned until last week that you would be allowed the attend as well. As nothing more than an intern, you hadn’t seen there being a reason.

But your boss had given you the news last Friday, and you’d practically skipped home to tell your boyfriend, Peter, about it. And that you had a plus one. He’d been almost as excited as you.

Which is why you were finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t home right now. He wasn’t getting ready with you, he wasn’t even answering your calls or texts. So while you were excited, there was a bubble of worry hiding underneath.

“Where is he?” You’re muttering to no one but yourself. The last touches of your outfit were going on, and the last train you could take would be at the station in 20 minutes. Your window was closing.

Looking down at your phone while adjusting your choice of red accessories, you start to wonder if something bad had happened to him. After all, New York was crawling with supervillains and regular villains alike. And Peter was equipped for any kind of fight he might’ve run into. Ever since you met him in your first year of college, he had been one of the most peaceful people you’d ever met.

Your red shoes rest by the door, and while pacing your living room, you decide to call his Aunt May. She would surely know if anything, bad or good, had stopped Peter from coming home on such an important night. You click on her contact, resisting the urge to bite your nails from nerves.

It’s only two rings before she answers, “(Y/N)!” she answers happily, “I’m a little shocked to be hearing from you so late, is everything alright? Isn’t tonight your Gala for work?”

Aunt May was nothing short of a saint. Kind and caring, traits she’d taught Peter as she raised him. You adored her, the two of you always got along great when you and Peter volunteered at FEAST or went over for dinner. You weren’t sure if the lack of concern in her voice should make you more worried or not.

“It is,” you tell her as you watch the clock tick on, “but I haven’t been able to get ahold of Peter all night. I’m starting to worry. Have you heard from him?”

There’s a hum of confusion on her end, “I’m afraid not, dear,” she says, “but I wouldn't start worrying just you. We both know how bad he is at keeping time.”

It was true. Peter was chronically late. Normally, it was funny, except for the few times he was an hour late to your date nights. But this was different. He knew how important this night was for you and your career as an investigative journalist. 

“I know…” you agree with May, “It’s just…I can’t be late for this, and the last train is leaving in 15 minutes.”

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you speak to her, and you bring it away from your ear to glance at the screen. A photo of you and Peter in front of the Ferris wheel at Coney Island is on screen, his name appearing with heart emojis next to it. Relief floods your system.

“Oh!” you gasp and return to speaking with May, “that’s him! I’m so sorry for bugging you May!”

She chuckles, “don’t be, dear. You two have a good time!”

You hang up, immediately answering Peter’s call, “Pete! Where are you!? I’ve been calling you all night!”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” his voice sounds winded and tired, like he was running, “I just…got wrapped up in something at work, me and Doc were talking about his lab and…I’m really sorry!”

“Well, where are you?” You ask. There was no point in telling him it was okay, because it didn’t feel okay, “the last train is about to leave and we can’t be late–”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” his voice cuts you off before you can continue your nervous ramble, “Me and Doc are still wrapped up in this lab project and I won’t be able to make it back in time for the gala. I know how important this was to you and I promise I will make up for this tenfold for the next 20 years–”

You could hear the rushing wind of New York behind the phone as he continued on an apology that you didn’t feel in your chest. He sounded sorry, sure, but you could only feel disappointment in his words. Your shoes are on your feet, and you’re looking at the clock hanging next to a vacation photo of the two of you on the beach. Your lack of response is response enough to him, but you’re too busy deciding if you should be angry or not.

“(Y/N),” he says your name, “I can’t say I’m sorry enough, but you’ll do fantastic even if I’m not there.”

“Seriously?! Of all nights, Peter, you have to pick tonight to flake out on me? You know how important this is and you can’t even look at a clock for two hours?!”

You had 10 minutes to get to the train station from your apartment, a task that would surely try and ruin your hour of work on how you looked.

“I know, babe, I’m so–”

You click the end call button before he can finish. Fumbling with your keys, can feel your cheeks warming up in a rush of emotions. First, embarrassment. A couple of people in your office had been excited to meet Peter, and now you would show up alone. Stood up by your boyfriend of 4 years. The gala would go on without him, and you would have to put on a pretty smile to go along with it. 

Which is exactly what you did, barely making it on time to walk with your boss into the decorated hall. Telling your coworkers that your boyfriend had eaten some bad takeout for dinner and was at home nursing himself back to health. Hoping nobody saw how your eye twitched whenever Peter texted you before turning your phone on do not disturb. 

That night, you locked the bedroom door and left a pillow and blanket on the couch.

★★★★★★

Something you and Peter had in common was your love of pizza. Both of you had differing opinions on the best pizza place in New York, but you did agree that any pizza was better than no pizza. So when you two moved in together, it was an unspoken rule that at least one night a week, you scaped whatever money you had together and ordered a large pizza.

“It’s my week to pick,” you remind him as you sit cross-legged on the couch in your studio apartment, holding the phone of power in your hand, “and I say Benny’s.”

Peter is standing in the kitchen, pulling a can of soda from the fridge, “aw man,” he says, “but they don’t have the good pepperoni.”

“But they have the Italian sausage,” you remind him, already pulling up Doordash on your phone, “and it’s my night.”

Peter looks over his shoulder, a smile on his face that always makes you blush and look away like a teenager, “you’re lucky I love you,” he says, “and I’m willing to part with the good pepperoni.”

You giggle back, “Aren’t I the luckiest? So half sausage half (F/T)?”

“It’s your world, babe,” he says as he walks around the couch to sit beside you, “I’m just living in it.”

“That’s the answer I was looking for,” you look over at him with a grin.

These nights were the ones you loved the most. The two of you in pajamas, ordering your favorite food, waiting for the newest episode of Game of Thrones to air, in the quiet of the apartment. Where the noise and air of New York felt like it was miles away, and your little bubble couldn’t be disturbed.

Peter leans down, his eyes soft when he looks at you, and he kisses you slowly. Every kiss with him, deep or small, left you with fire in your veins. Whether it was innocent or lewd, at home or in the park, an apology kiss or a hello kiss, you always felt like you were walking on the hot air of a volcanic eruption. He pulls away, smiling like he was looking at the sun for the first time.

“Hm,” you gaze back at him, “I don’t care how much you kiss me, I won’t be swayed into Lenny’s.”

He gives a dramatically fake sigh, “There went the plan of seducing you into mushroom on half.”

“Well, I didn’t say that…” you roll your eyes, still smiling. You were always smiling with Peter. Or, most of the time you were.

His phone dings on the coffee table in front of you, the screen face down but illuminating the light-colored wood around it. It caught you off guard for a moment, that his screen is face down. And that he picked it up immediately. But you didn’t let it bother you for long, deciding to order the pizza while he checked whatever notification he had. 

Just as you hit delivery, Peter stands up from the couch in too quick of a motion to be reassuring. You jump slightly at his speed, looking back at him in confusion. Tilting your head, you look as he shoves his phone into his back pocket.

“Pete?” you say in an unsure voice, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” he says. The slight rise at the end of his sentence makes you narrow your eyes, “It’s just uh…Doc texted me and uh he says he’s had a breakthrough on this project, but he needs my help with it..”

You can’t hide the disappointment in your expression as he makes a reach for his keys hanging by the door, and for his bag by the couch. 

“Oh…” you say, trying to mask the sound of defeat in your voice, “right now? It’s almost nine pm.”

“Yeah, it’s just…a really important project,” he insists as he pulls his shoes on hurriedly. You would think he’d just gotten a call from the police with how quickly he was moving, “and you know Doc, he’s always rushing through the numbers, so I should just make sure he’s got them all right before moving on.”

He was rambling. His voice was rising and falling. Every tell he had that he was lying, but you didn’t want to jump to that conclusion. What was there for him to lie about? What would have him running from the apartment so late? He did care a lot about the projects he and Doc had going at the lab, he was always doing some kind of numbers crunch for his boss.

Peter slows his pace when he takes note of your expression, avoiding his eyes, “I swear I’ll be right back,” he says as he walks back towards the couch where you sat, “30 minutes tops, I’ll be here before the pizza guy, I promise.”

So it wouldn’t be a long late night call by Doc, then. That makes you feel the tiniest bit better, and you give him a small half-hearted smile. What were you supposed to say? No, don’t go to your job that you’re so crazy passionate about? Don’t go help your boss on a project that could potentially change lives? You make no move to stop him.

“I promise,” Peter repeats when he doesn’t see a lift in your spirits. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again, lighting you on fire from the inside, “don’t start the episode without me!”

You tried to take that as a sign that he meant it. Half an hour and he would be back with the pizza still hot in the box. So you kissed him goodbye and sat on the couch by yourself in the apartment. As soon as the episode started, you hit pause and texted Peter that you had done so, letting him know that every second you were away from Jon Snow would be counted towards your next pizza night.

20 minutes passed, and the pizza showed up with steam rising from the box. His half with sausage and mushroom was untouched as you grabbed a slice from your side. Just because he said to wait on the show didn’t mean you had to wait for dinner.

30 minutes, and you figured he was fighting the night rush on the train. He didn’t answer your text message, but he probably needed all of his attention on his work right now. You don’t make a fuss, keeping the show paused.

After an hour of no response, you get fed up of sitting with just your phone and decide to unpause the show. If he came in and mentioned it, you would tell him to watch it tomorrow night while you were at work. But he doesn’t come back. Even when the episode is over, you haven’t heard the jingle of the keys in the lock. 

Two hours late, as you decide to pack it up for bed, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. From the kitchen, putting the box of pizza in the fridge, you heavily roll your eyes. Your disappointment was riddled with hints of anger, but there was also confusion. Peter had always been flakey, he’d always been late, he’d always been absent-minded and forgetful, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d put his phone face time when around you lately.

It could mean nothing. In fact, it probably did mean nothing, but there was a sense of dread in your gut. You weren’t sure you wanted to face the idea that was forming in the back of your head. Because you loved Peter, you loved him so much you weren’t sure what life had been like before you started loving him. He made you feel safe and seen and understood, he made you feel like someone important in a city where nobody mattered unless they were on the front page of a magazine.

And if there was one thing you were sure of anymore, it was that Peter Parker loved you too. Nothing had shaken that fact over the last four years, and you weren’t sure anything ever would. 

But you could still be upset with him when he did things like this. Like bailing on your traditional date night, like standing you up on one of the most important nights of your rising career. You picked up your phone, reading the text from Peter that had come in two minutes ago. All the lights in the apartment were off, and you were ready to tuck yourself into bed.

His message read, “Baby I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a little while still, please don’t be too mad at me.”

The words “I’m so sorry” were starting to grow old to you. You lock your phone and leave it in the living room with the screen facing up, no response, and your chest getting heavier and heavier as you sit in the empty apartment by yourself.

★★★★★★

He’s just late, you tell yourself, like always. He’s always late.

You couldn’t even tell yourself that he’d never been two hours late befor because he had. Sitting in the corner booth of Leo’s pizza, more dressed up than you should be for a place like this, you try to convince yourself that Peter was late for a good reason.

The train broke down, he’d had his phone stolen, sandman was on the loose again and he had to take the long way here.

But the news was mostly quiet, with no attacks, and he hadn’t even texted you. Again. 

You stir the straw in your soda, watching the melting ice bump into the sides of the glass as your mind runs rampant. After Peter had bailed on your pizza and Game of Thrones night, you had been angry and hurt and unable to hide that from him. His apology? Take you out to Leo’s for dinner, your favorite pizza place of all time.

There was no way Peter would stand you up for your apology date. Not even he was the absent-minded, you were sure. You’d been talking about it just this morning over breakfast in the kitchen. He’d given you free rein of the toppings, and he would meet you here after work.

Looking at the clock, two hours had become three, and Leo’s would close in one more. Sitting back in your booth seat, you swallow the lump of emotions that wanted to burst out.

“That boy still not here?” Leo, the man behind the counter, asks you.

The burly Italian man had been witness to your guys’ relationship grow. From your first date to your anniversary dates to your celebration dates. He’d seen it all from behind the counter, and you were sure he would be witness to every other milestone. At least, you had been. 

Sitting in the booth alone, you were beginning to wonder if there was anything beyond these four years with Pete.

“I wish I knew, Leo,” you admit and look down at your phone.

It buzzes as you’re looking at it. But when you see Pete’s name pop up, you don’t feel any sense of relief or anger or even sadness. Maybe you just didn’t want to feel it all at once in front of poor Leo. He didn’t need to witness that part of your relationship. 

Pete had said, “Where are you at? Working late?”

You couldn’t help the scoff, “he forgot about me,” you say more to yourself than anyone else.

“What was that?” Leo asks when he catches a hint of your mumbling.

You look up from the phone, tucking it away into your pocket, and give the man a tight smile, “nothing, Leo. Sorry for wasting your time.”

Pushing yourself out of the booth, you wonder how you would go about this. Peter had been bailing on you more and more these past few months. With date the gala, with date night, and not to mention the countless nights he comes home so late you think he’s an intruder half the time. Had he always been like this and you were only noticing now that you lived together? Or had you just ignored it because of how much you loved him?

“Not a waste of time,” Leo assures you as you walk towards the door, “you and Peter will come back soon, I’m sure.”

He sounded confident. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to politely agree. You thanked him again. You texted Peter back while taking your time walking towards the train station.

“Well, I was at Leo’s,” you reply, “waiting for your amazing apology date.”

Not even a full minute goes by before his caller ID appears on your phone. You answer it out of pure curiosity, too tired to be angry at him anymore or even upset with him. He’s speaking before the phone can even fully reach your ear. Pete’s voice sounds frantic.

“I'm on my way!” He insists, “just give me two minutes and I’ll be there, I swear, (Y/N)!”

“Forget it, Peter,” you hope your voice doesn’t sound as strained as it feels, “I already left. Go back to work.”

“I wasn’t at work, I was…” He doesn’t seem to have a good answer for her, “Just give me two minutes, (Y/N) and I can still make this date happen, I promise!”

“Peter…” You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to the apartment and face the conclusion you were drawing, “all I’ve heard the past month are apologies and promises you don’t keep. It’s exhausting.”

“I know, I know, I’ve been a shit boyfriend but I’ll get it together, I know I will.”

“Even your apologies need apologies,” you sigh, rocks sitting in your chest and making you walk slower, “how many more nights are you going to stand me up this month alone?”

“None!” He insists, “It’s not gonna happen again, ever.”

“Why has it already happened six times then?” You shake your head as you reach the train station, your stomach rumbling as you regret not getting a slice of pizza to go, “and yes, I’ve counted. That’s just this month!”

There’s no immediate response on his end, and the silence makes the rocks in your chest grow to fill your stomach as well. It was like every conversation you had was giving you more reason to believe that suspicion that you wanted to forget about because it made no sense.

In the night air of New York, you can smell pizza and trash trucks littering the street. And somewhere in the distance, the sirens that were always going in this city. You weren’t sure if it was from your end or Peter’s

“(Y/N), when you get home I swear we’ll talk this out,” he finally breaks his stretch of silence, “I’ll be waiting for you, and you can yell at me for however long you need but–”

You close your eyes for a moment and grip the phone, “do not say you need to go.”

“I have to go…dammit,” he mutters the last word to himself, “I’ll meet you at home, (Y/N), I’ll be there and we can work this out.”

You shake your head, watching as a train approaches the boarding area. One that wouldn’t lead you to the apartment but to somewhere else. You step onto the nearly empty car, watching a few people shuffle out and pay you no mind.

“Don’t bother, Peter,” you say, “I’m staying with my parents tonight, okay? So just go back to whatever work is more important than I am.”

★★★★★★

A very common task given to you at work was getting coffee. Usually, it was the first thing you did in the mornings when your boss handed you a company card and a piece of paper with everyone's order on it. Sometimes throughout the day, you would be sent on other various food and drink runs, but only around meal times.

Sitting at your desk, you were looking over the files on your computer that contained a few of the articles being pitched to your boss that afternoon. Your task was the weed out the “boring” ones by trying to decide what he would deem boring in the first place. You weren’t expecting any kind of task before the meeting, so all of your attention was on the article on your screen.

“(Y/N)!” You jump nearly out of your desk chair when your boss yells your name from across the room, “We need a coffee run before this meeting!”

Your boss was not a man of patience, so you had a few seconds before he got annoyed with your lack of movement. Closing the tab on your computer, you grab a piece of loose paper and a pen and start across the room of office cubicles towards him.

“Your usual, sir?” You ask him in the fake professional voice you’d taken to using with him.

He nods his head and holds up the silver credit card for office expenses, “Yes, and an iced chai for Martha when she gets here, and a vanilla latte with soy for Marcus.”

You scribble down the other orders as you nod your head and take the card, “I’m on it, back in a jiff.”

“(Y/N)!” here it came, “can I get a lavender mocha?!”

Everyone would shout orders at you as you left when they heard a coffee run was being called. Normally, you tried to get out of there as quickly as possible before too many orders piled up. Because no one would offer to come with you to help carry them, and you could only carry so many steaming cups before you were destined to spill them on yourself. 

The paper is filled before you’re in the elevator anyway, leaving you with 8 orders of coffee. You liked being at work because you hardly had time to think for yourself. Unless you were doing some kind of food or drink run, and then you had entirely too much time to yourself. And right now, you didn’t want to spend too much time in your head.

For the past three days, you had been staying overnight at your parent's place in Queens. During the day you would be at your apartment, getting ready for work or making your meals, because you knew Peter would be gone at the lab. You hadn’t come face to face with him since the morning he stood you up for his apology date, and it’s because you couldn't bear to look at him. Just the thought of confronting him with the truth made you nauseous. You weren’t sure you wanted him to say it out loud or not.

Your parents hadn’t minded when you showed up, near tears, telling them that you were at least 80% sure that Peter was cheating on you. They’d offered you their guest room and told you to think about things with a clear head. Your mother had been very adamant that you talk to him first.

But you’d been ignoring his calls and texts like the plague. Partly because you wanted him to know what it felt like to be ignored, and partly because you weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him yet. You knew you would talk to him when you were damn well ready, and you weren’t ready. Not this morning when he sent his usual “good morning” message and asked if you wanted to meet for lunch. 

Maybe tonight you would talk to him. You would bite the bullet and get the truth, even if you didn’t like what it was.

As you stand and wait for your two coffee carriers, you look down at your phone and all of Peter’s unanswered texts and voicemails. He was persistent, especially when it came to your relationship. You love that about him. 

Peter Parker didn’t do anything half-assed. Everything he did from school to work was 100%, and relationships had never been different. At least not until now. He’d loved you as much as you loved him, you had been sure of that until now. You just didn’t understand when that had changed. What had made him back away from you to the point of forgetting about you multiple times a month?

“(Y/N)!” You hear it called from up ahead. You look up from your phone, wondering if your order was done already. But you see a familiar face walking towards you in a grey sweater vest and a head of thinning brown hair with small glasses.

You smile and turn your body to face him, “Doctor Octavius!” You greet, “it’s been a while!”

“It has,” he agrees as he reaches out to shake your hand, “it’s so funny running into you here. I’m here every day for lunch but we’ve never run into each other.”

You shake your head politely, “this is an odd time for a coffee run for me,” you assure him, “so how are you? Things at the lab doing okay? Peter is so excited to be working with you.”

“And I’m happy to have him,” Dr. Octavius says, “he’s passionate about helping people, that boy,” he then waves a hand through the air to laugh, “if only he could be on time for once in his life! But I’m sure you know all about that.”

You give a pained smile, hoping it looked more real than it felt, “You have no idea,” you agree and then try to forget about the sore subject in your relationship, “but I’m sure he’s making up for it with all the late nights, he’s always thinking about your guys’ projects.”

Dr. Octavius laughs while pushing up his glasses, “Oh, I wish we could do late nights,” he tells you, and your heart begins to pound, “I’m afraid I don’t have the funding to keep workers past normal hours. But that’s not an issue for now, I’m glad Peter has some spare time to spend with you. You two remind me so much of me and my wife when were young…”

His word became muffled. No late nights. He didn’t have the funding for late nights. But Peter had been telling you that he was at work, with Dr. Octavius. He’d been telling you that for months. If he wasn’t there…where had he been going? Why had he been lying to you? What was the point of lying to you?

You’d never been the kind of person to tell Peter what he could and couldn’t do. It was his life, his choices, his spare time. Why did he feel the need to tell he was somewhere when he wasn’t? The weight in your chest stretched down to your stomach, and you wondered if anxiety-vomiting was a real thing. It felt like you were about to find out.

“Order for (Y/N)!” Your name breaks your trance as well as the conversation with Dr. Octavius, who was still speaking despite you not hearing it. You look up at the barista counter, where your 8 drinks are waiting for you to grab them.

“Oh, I’ll let you get back to work,” the doctor says as he hears your name as well, “I hope we run into each other again, (Y/N).”

“Me too, Doctor,” you tell him, hoping it sounded scincere, “good luck with your research, I can’t wait to hear about it!”

The doctor smiles, and he’s about to turn away when he looks back at you, “Oh, and (Y/N), great work on that Oscorp piece last week!”

Any other day, you would be ecstatic that someone had read you piece in the back of the paper and at the bottom of the website. Especially after all the work you put into gathering information on Oscorp’s underhanded carbon emissions from half of their facilities. But you didn’t feel that excitement, you hardly felt anything about it. But you thanked Dr. Octavius and grabbed your row of drinks off the counter.

Your brain was in another world entirely as you balanced everything on your hands. Peter had been lying to you for months. Maybe even longer than that. He was bailing on your dates, leaving you alone in the apartment at night to “work.” Still, you tied to put half of your focus on getting back to work in time for the meeting without spilling anything. You only took your eyes off the coffee to check your footing.

But the streets of New York were never kind, not even to those having a month full of bad days. With your eyes on the coffee, you fail to notice an incoming biker barreling down the sidewalk. There’s a ding of a bell that makes you look up, but it was to late to get out of his way without spilling anything.

What’s one more bad day, You think when you realize your situation, on top of all the others?

Still, you yelp as he barely swerves around you, your foot caught under his thin tire. When you jump from pain, your hands instinctually let go of the coffee trays. The smell of lavender and espresso douse your nice work clothes, and hot liquid burning the exposed skin it touches. You jump back from the biker, who was already whizzing past you and disappearing into the city. The edge of the sidewalk was right there, and your heel is already too close to the edge.

“Whoa! Watch out!” You hear someone calling down at you, but what were you supposed to do? You were already slipping into the road and watching as cars didn't bother to slow down.

There’s a burst of air at your side, a hand on your hip, and your feet are barely picked up off the ground before being sat back down a few feet further into the walkway. You saw the red and blue before you could process the entirety of what had just happened. Spider-Man, the walking legend of the New York streets. He was the small time hero whs ometimes got into big-time fights. Your boss absolutely loved him.

You’d never had a personal enounter with the hero before, and you didn’t think you would ever need to. But you’d heard plenty of stories from other people while working. He was a good man, someone who cared about the people of New York, even the small people like you who didn’t have their names on billboards. 

“Are you okay?” He aks you.

His voice was a little distorted when you heard it, robitcally. It must be another way for him to protect his identity, you assume. Maybe his suit was more high tech than people realized. You look over at him, wide eyes, coffee all over you, your skin tinted red from the heat, and you say nothing at first. Taking in the situation. Taking in the information Octavius had given you, and the only conclusion you could draw from it.

Spider-Man tilts his head as he lets go of your waist, “Miss…are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Besides the burning coffee your arms an your throbbing foot, you shake your head. But you could feel the emotions you were pushing down starting to bubble over. A month of ignoring signs that the person you loved more than anything was cheating on you, hoping it was all some big misunderstanding. Your job piling more tasks on you because you could take it, with no breaks and hardly time to eat lunch. You just wanted a pizza night with Peter, with your favorite show and your favorite person right next to you. But he was, clearly, with someone else when he was supposed to be with you.

Your eyes start to burn.

“Okay, good,” Spider-Man says with a nod of hs red and blue mask, “that was almost bad. Do you need smeone to uh…walk you back to wherever you’re going?”

Why did he care? You were fine, just getting more upset by the second. Any minute the dams would burst and you didn’t need a superhero seeing you cry over spilled coffee. So you shake your head again, trying to wipe the coffee from your skin.

“That looks like it hurts,” Spider-Man comments when he sees the light burn on your arms, “we should get some ice on that. That coffee shop should have some,” he points to where you had just come from.

You shake your head again, “I’m fine.”

But even to you your voice sounded thick with emotions he woudln’t understand. Hell, you didn’t even fully understand them. What you understand is that Peter wasn’t going to be who you call anymore after a bad day. You wouldn’t go home to him tonight  because he would be gone, tell you it was for work, and then turn his phone upside downwhen he got back.

“Alright miss, if you’re sure,” he says, “but some ice water might make it feel better. I’ve had few coffee burns before too.”

You weren’t sure what the final straw was, but you couldn't stop it anymore. The tears fell, and you drop your head into your hands to block it from anyone who walked by. But nobody in New York cared about people who cried in the street, you knew that. You just didn’t want to be the weirdo on this day who broke down in front of a coffee shop. Keeping you cries as internal as possible, you begin to turn towards the coffee shop once more.

“Whoa,” Spider-Man stops you, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? It’s just a few cups of coffee, we can order more.”

This stranger sounded so much like Peter in his words that it made you cry a little bit harder. Peter was the go to for any kind of comfort. He spoke so calmly when you were loosing it that if made you feel more in control. You hated it right now because you weren’t in control of anything anymore. 

Spider-Man places a covered hand on your shoulder that you’re too upset to brush away. 

“It’s everything!” You sniffle on the street, people pushing around you without sparing your emotional break a glance, “I’m gonna be late to the meeting because i have to chage clothes, and now I have to get more coffee, and I think my boyfriend is cheating on me!”

Hearing the words out loud, you cries become harder to muffle and tears begin to fall onto your palms. Peter was cheating on you, you were sure of that. There was nothing else that explained his behavior and lies. Normally you wouldn’t wail about your problem to a stranger, but what could it hurt? It’s not like he knew you or Peter, and he would forget about this in an hour when he was pulling a kitten from a tree.

“Wait, why would you…” his voice sounded hurried at first before he stopped and corrected himself, “um why do you think that, Miss? That your boyfriend is cheating on you? I really doubt that’s the case, I mean I don’t know him but I think that’s way out there to assume, not that I know anything about your relationship–”

“What do you care?” You turn from the super hero and back towards the coffee shop, where you try to swallow down your cries and sniffles long enough to order your coffee for a second time.

★★★★★★

Your boss had not been happy to see you appear in coffee covered clothes with a slight limp. He’d been the slightest bit concerned when he also took note of your red eyes and ruined hair, but then told you to go home and change as quick as humanly possible.

But you didn’t move like you were in a rush. Actually, you drug your feet back to your apartment hoping that Peter would really be at work. You didn’t even want to walk into the home you shared with him knowing that he had been running around with someone else while you were there alone. But you had no where else to go and change that was within a one-train-ride distance.

You unlock the door, eyes still stinging at the corners, your clothes sticking to your body. And there was a slight sting in your skin where the coffee had hit. Maybe Spider-Man had been right about icing it. Maybe a cold shower would make you feel better physically and emotionally, but you doubted it. 

You open the front door, dropping your keys in the tray by the door.

“(Y/N)! You’re home!” You nearly jumped out of your skin when Peter’s voice came from the living area, “please, we need to talk!”

You look at him as you shut the door behind you, and you wanted to start crying just seeing him. But you held it in and turned away from him.

“I don’t have time for this, Peter,” you tell him, “I’m late for a meeting and I have to shower before I go back.”

“Please, (Y/N) even just a two minute conversation, I swear,” he pushed, walking after you as you went towards the bedroom where you had a bathroom connected, “you don’t even have to talk, just listen.”

“I don’t have time for this!” You repeat, starting to get irritated in the sadness you felt when he spoke your name. You reach the bedroom and make a beeline for the bathroom, wondering if he would disappear before you got out. He follows you up until you close the bathroom door in his face. Your tears fall again under the cold water, and you hope he can’t hear it.

You showered, changed, and blow dried your hair. Not as quickly as you could’ve, but quick enough for your boss to think you moved as fast as you could. Part of you didn’t even want to go back in, but the other option was staying here and facing the music with your boyfriend.

Who was still there when you opened the bathroom door. Sitting on the bed you two shared. His side was strewn about from sleeping, his pillow crooked, the blanks tossed aside. But your side was untouched, even your half of the blankets pulled up. You were always the one to make the bed. He immediately stands up when he hears the door open, turning towards you.

His normally put together hair was frazzed. He ran his hands through it when he was upset. It was one of his tells when he was nervous and tried to hide it. 

“Peter…” you sigh as he gets up to follow you from the bedroom, “please, not now. I have a lot to do at work, and I don’t need to be thinking about this while I’m there.”

“You won’t come home at night,” Peter says behind you as you reach for your shoes by the door. They still had coffee marks on them, “you only come back when you know I’m at work, I don’t know when we’ll be able to talk aside from showing up at your work. Which I have thought about, believe me.”

“Then just wait until I’m ready to talk,” you tell him, “what’s wrong with that option?”

“Because I really want us to go back to normal, (Y/N). I want you to come home, and I want to see you next to me in the mornings, and I want to hear about your day–”

“We can’t go back to normal, Peter,” it looks like you were doing this now. There was no way around it anymore. Part of you was relieved, “not after this. I don’t even think there can be an us to go back to.”

“Please don’t do this, (Y/N),” he pleas, approaching you but keeping enough distance between you that you didn’t feel trapped here, “I know…that…I know you think that I’ve been doing something, I know what you think and you have to know–”

“How would you know what I think, Peter?” You ask him, your throat threatening to close, “you’re not around to hear what I think anymore! You’re never here, you’re running out in the middle of the night, you’re lying about where you are!”

“I know that I’ve made some stupid mistakes this past month,” he insists, “but I can fix it all, I swear, and you’ll never have to deal with those problems again.”

Fix it all. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t fix the fact that you didn’t believe a single word he said now. Or that you would always wonder if he was looking at someone else when you went out on dates. But you still looked at him and you loved him because you knew what it felt like to be loved by him at one point. When had that changed? When had he stopped loving you? Was it so quick you only noticed now, or had it been so slowly you hadn’t noticed at all?

“Just…” you inhale deeply and try to keep your breathing steady, “tell me the truth…please. Are you cheating–” 

“No,” he shakes his head before the question is even out.

“--on me? Are you seeing someone else?”

“No,” he repeats, “I am not, have never, and will never cheat on you, (Y/N), I promise.”

“I don’t believe your promises anymore, Peter.”

“I love you,” he takes a few steps to close to distance between you two so he’s standing directly in front of you. He reaches down for your shaking hands, like he wanted to steady to flurry of emotions you were feeling, “I love you so much, and that is a promise I have never broken. Why do you think that? Why would you ever think I would chose someone over you?”

You pull your hands away from his, sick at how at ease he could still make you feel when he spoke with such a calm voice. You didn’t want to be calm or sad. You wanted to be angry. But his brown eyes only left you feeling small and defeated.

“What else am I supposed to think?” you shake your head and take a step away from him, “what are my other options? Of course there’s someone else–”

“There’s no one,” he presses, “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this.”

“So you leave me at a table by myself at Leos?” You ask with a disbelieving headshake, “and tell me you’re at work when Dr. Octavius says he can’t keep you after hours? If you’re not cheating, Peter, then why all the lies? Give me the truth, or I don’t think I can handle being loved like this anymore.”

He doesn’t say anything. Your shoe are on, youre reaching for the doorhandle, and you don’t think he’s going to stop you. That hurts more than anything. Or mayb all of the hurt was piling up and you didn’t know what was the most painful anymore. You couldn’t look back at him for fear you would crack and beg for an answer. 

Your hands on the door handle, you want him to stop you, but you refuse to beg him to choose you.

There’s a thwipp sound behind you, and then something cold has your hand pinned to the doorknob. Unable to turn it. You look down at it, and a pile of white spiderwebs is covered your hand entirely. Looking back at Peter, his hand is out and pointed in your direction. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing either.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says and takes his hands through his hair in distress, “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I couldn’t let you walk away thinking that I had cheated on you.”

Your head was going a mile a minute, probably not even on Earth anymore, and you were staring down at the webs covering your hand. Your first coherent thought was that it was Peter you had cried in front of an hour ago, crying about your cheating boyfriend. The second thought was that this also made sense for all the lies and the leaving. 

“I’m not gonna stop you from leaving me,” He’s rambling behind you, “even though I’m ready to get down on my hands and knees and grovel for one more chance, but if you need to walk away from me then please just know the truth when you do it. I love you, (Y/N), and that is the only thing I’m sure is true anymore.”

You sniffle, your tears having run dry, “Peter,” you say in a dull and emotionless voice, “can you come get this shit off my hand so I can go back to work?”

★★★★★★

Needless to say, you didn’t get anything productive done after that encounter with Peter. It wasn’t hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t cheating on you. You’d been looking for a reason to do that for a month now. But the fact that he was Spider-Man?

Your Peter, who hated violence, who was as peaceful as a butterfly, who didn’t even like watching MMA fights, was a crime fighting superhero? With powers? And you’d been living under the same room as him for a year and had never noticed?

Your brain was connecting the pieces of every time thing that had happened. Like when the sink handle had broken off one morning in Peter’s hand when you’d first moved into the apartment. You’d laughed about it, thinking about what a funny stroke of bad luck he’d had. Or when he’d come home bruises along his back and say he’d fallen while trying to get work on time. It had sounded true at the time, but Peter wasn’t the clumsy type. Now you knew why. He was coordinated enough to fight super villains.

None of what you needed to get done happened at work. You could hardly process any words you read, and any conversations went in one ear and out the other. Your boyfriend was Spider-Man, you were still grappling with that revelation by the time you got off. 

You decided to go home. Now that you knew Peter wasn’t cheating on you, it felt like you could at least see the place again. However, on your walk to the train station, you were hyper aware of every se of sirens that went off somewhere in the distance. Which was every three seconds in New York, and the worry you felt knowing he could be at any crime scene was arguably as bad as the anxiety you’d felt all day.

Of course you could text him. But after ignoring him for three days, it felt only right to talk in person. You hoped you would be home when you arrived, but if not, you would have to wait. It would give you time to think of what you were going to say. Of how you wanted to go about things now that you knew the truth.

You unlocked the front door with anxiety running through your veins. On the other side, the remains of his webs from earlier were still hanging from the doorknob. He’d cut you free with his house keys, and you’d left before you could see the webs closely. When he wasn’t inside, you looked at them a little closer. They were as thin as real spider webs, but you’d felt how strong they were when holding your hand down. Peter was genius enough to make these himself, that’s for sure.

The apartment was empty. You didn’t hear any sign of Peter. So you place your keys in the tray by the door and take a seat on the couch, letting things slowly settle in your head. 

You sent Peter a text, “I’m at home. We should talk.”

You honestly weren’t expecting a reply, so you set your phone down and decide to find something to eat. As you silently open the fridge, your options are slim. There’s one can of Dr. Pepper, left over pasta, and a container of uncooked mushrooms in the drawer. Peter clearly hadn’t been shopping while you were gone. You reach for the left over pasta, figuring it was your only option that required minimal cooking tonight.

“(Y/N),” your name makes you jump a mile in the air, a yelp leaving you. Spinning around, you see Peter.

He’s sitting on the edge of a newly opened window that led to your fire escape. In a familiar red and blue suit with a web design on it. The mask is crumpled in his hand, like he didn’t want you to panic when you saw him. His hair is a frizzed mess, and his eyes are staring at you like he was shocked to find you standing in the kitchen.

“You’re here,” he says as you place a hand on your chest to feel how hard your heart is hammering.

He steps into the living area, and you can see the suit in clear lighting. He came in so easily and with skill. Like he’d done it a million times before.

“That’s how you get in without setting off the alarm?!” You ask him in disbelief.

He looks back at the window for a second, and then back at you, “Yeah,” he confirms, “It doesn’t wake you up, and it’s less stairs.”

“Less stairs,” you repeat and nod your head, setting your cold pasta on the counter, “yeah, makes sense, sure.”

Peter puts the mask on the coffee table beside your phone, “you want to talk?” he asks, as if confirming it was you who sent the text message, “I wasn’t sure you were ever coming back, if I’m honest.”

“Well I did ask for the truth,” you tell him, leaning back against the, “I can’t be mad that I got it.”

There’s silence on his end. Like he wasn’t sure what to say next. But you weren’t either. A few things came to mind, but you didn’t know where to start. So you decided on the first thing that came up when you opened your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you land on, “for thinking you were cheating.”

Peter looks up, eyes wide, clearly not having expected that, “what? Don’t apologize, I’m supposed to be apologzing.”

“Yeah, well, I figured I owe you one too.”

The space between you two felt like miles, but it was only feet. And the apartment felt cold, like you were both avoiding making the first move. You wanted him back at your side, as close to you as he could be. You wanted to sit on the couch with Peter as your peasonal heated blanket, listening to his heartbeat as you fell asleep. 

“I owe you about a million more,” Peter shakes his head and finally breaks the distance separating you two, “I never should’ve even let you begin to think that I would pick someone else over you. I should’ve told you the truth years ago, I should’ve told you the moment I realized I loved you, I’m sorry.”

He’s maybe a foot away. He’d closed the distance up until now, and you decide to close the rest. Your hands reach out, the feeling of the suit alien under your fingers, but his warmth reminds you that its him. Pulling him forward, he practically melts into you as you wrap your arms around him. Burying your face into his neck, feeling his hair between your fingers. It was Peter, your loyal and loving Peter.

Peter holds you back. Now you know that the strength he’s holding back is because he doesn’t want to hurt you. How could Peter ever hurt you? He loved you, and you loved him. After too long thinking that that was a lie, it was a relief to know it was still true. Keeping this kind of secret couldn’t have been easy for him, just as it hadn’t been easy for you to think he was being unfaithful. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him as he leans his body against yours, his face buried in your hair in relief, “it’s been years, Pete, you could’ve trusted me with this…”

He lifts his head, only enough so he could press his forehead to yours, “I do trust you,” he says, “but I also love you more than life itself, so I have to protect you above anything else. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna hurt me, and I will not let them use you to do it. I can’t do that to you.”

“Pete trusting me with something like this isn’t damning me to being a damsel in distress,” you inform him carefully, using your hands to gently swipe his messy hair from his eyes.

The apartment was dimly lit, something you’d always complained about, but you could see his face clear as day as he clung to you in the kitchen light. His brown eyes glossy with tears, the freckles dotting his cheeks that you counted when you couldn’t sleep. You though your knew everything about him, every part of him, but he had been hiding an entirely differen life from you. A life that couldn’t have been easy to shoulder all on his own. You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for hiding from you only to protect you.

“I couldn’t risk it,” he admits, his voice as soft as the light above you, “but I also couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I didn’t love you with every cell in my body. I needed you to know the truth even if you still left.”

You shake your head against his, “this isn’t going to drive me away, Pete,” you assure him, palms coming to a rest on his cheeks, “what’ll drive me away is the lies. Promise me no more lies, Pete, please.”

He’s nodding his head before you can even finish the sentence, “No more,” he says, “no more lies or secrets, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You believed him. Not just because you wanted to, but because you could feel that me meant it. Every doubt that you’d had in your head is flooded away as you make the first move to kiss him. His lips were as soft as they always were, his movements just as gentle. He was still your Peter, the same guy you fell in love with over Leo’s pizza. He leans forward, pinning you against the counter so he get a solid grip on your waist. 

He hoists you up with one hand, and you can’t help but gasp as he lands your butt on the counter without blinking. He chuckles at your reaction, settling himself between your knees in your shock.

“You’ve been hiding this the whole time?” you ask, now more interested than anything else. You lock your legs around his hips, “Pete, we could’ve been having some real fun with this.”

Peter grins, “Trust me, I know, I’ve had a few dreams about it.”

[ippid]

Finding passion

Chapter – 3

Standing at the train station with my parents, I can barely keep my eyes open. When my dad said we’ll leave early on Friday, I thought he meant 11 am or something.

Not 5 in the morning.

I haven’t had a great sleeping schedule for the past few weeks, and I went to sleep pretty late again yesterday, staying up to read. So you can imagine how exhausted I am right now.

After getting our tickets checked, we proceed to board the train and find our seats. I was planning to use this journey to look up some tips and tricks that I could try to use when I take some pictures. But that idea flew out the window along with my consciousness because as soon as I settled down in a seat across from my parents I was out like a light.

After what felt like 2 minutes but was actually around 3 hours, I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see my mom smiling at me and telling me we’ve arrived. I get up with them, and we get off the train along with everyone else. Damn, I can already hear all the French surrounding me, this is sweet. I look up at my parents and come to a sudden realization.

Oh my god, how did I not think about this before?!

My last name may be French, but my parents most certainly do not speak it. And guess what else, they don’t speak? That’s right.

English.

Why in the hell did I not notice that sooner? They’ll make me interact with so many people now! They’re social people, and something as silly as a language barrier won’t stop them from communicating.

With their hands, and weird sounds, and oh my god.

This was a setup.

Either I communicate with these people in English and all the French I know, or I suffer the embarrassment of watching them trying to get others to understand what their waving hands and odd sounds mean.

They know I would never allow that.

It’s not as if I’m afraid to talk to others, but I just don’t like to talk much. I have infinite thoughts, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I like to be quiet and a lot of people mistake that for me being either shy, embarrassed, awkward or all three.

I heave a big sigh and walk in front of them, telling them to follow me, so I could lead us to a cab. I hear them laughing a bit behind me and turn around to throw them a mock glare. ‘’Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You guys got me.’’ I say pretending to be angry.

They continue laughing, and my dad comes over to sling his arm around my shoulder. He’s a bit taller than me, standing at 6’0 and has dark brown wavy hair with streaks of gray through it. A defined face with a sharp jawline and the warmest hazel brown eyes you’ll ever see. His tan skin brings even more attention to his white teeth, and he’s overall very handsome still, for someone as old as him. I can see why my mom got together with him.

‘’Come on kiddo, this way you can practice your French, and we will feel better knowing you can take care of yourself in an unfamiliar environment.’’ I look at him weirdly. Why would he need to worry about that? It’s not like I will be going to many of those anyway. He looks back at me and doesn’t say anything. He just gives me one of those annoying all knowing smiles like he knows something I don’t.

I huff and give him a small smile back before he releases me and drops back next to my mother. I continue leading them outside and over to a cab, where I quickly ask if they can take us to our hotel. The cab ride wasn’t all that eventful. We sat in a companionable silence, and we all just enjoyed the surrounding scenery.

My parents had definitely splurged on this trip. We were headed to the Chouchou Hotel and I read only nice reviews about that place. After arriving and checking in, we decided to head down and have some breakfast here in the hotel before we would go sightseeing. Our first stop was of course the Louvre, where we joined a tour in English that I had to translate for my parents. It took roughly 2 hours. Then we went on to check out the art ourselves, and we decided after that to head over to a café to eat a late lunch.

After having eaten one of the best lunches I had in a while, we decided to walk back through the streets to the hotel. My parents wanted to go up to their room to unwind a bit and relax before going out later tonight to eat dinner. I wasn’t feeling all that tired yet, so I decided to explore a bit more. I wanted to visit this cute coffee shop/study lounge that I saw tucked away between two large buildings earlier. In my experience, it’s always the underrated and less frequented spaces that are the best.

While I was on my way there, I noticed a lot of things around me. I’ve always liked to people watch. It just fascinates me how you can learn so much from somebody without them ever opening their mouth. I noticed how the people around me seemed pretty happy and carefree. Nobody had an unhappy look on their face. Maybe because of the good weather or it’s just the French, I don’t know. All I know is that it makes me feel good to see other people feeling good. Positive energy all around.

After walking for a bit, I finally reach the street I have to turn in to, to reach the café. At that moment, a car drives by and honks their horn. It was pretty close and loud, so I turn my head to see what’s up while turning the corner and run straight into a wall. It startled me so much, I stumbled back and fell on my ass. ‘’Fuck! Who puts a wall next to a wall?!’’ I say while quickly trying to get up off the floor before someone off the main street notices my embarrassing fall.

More importantly, why did I keep walking when I turned my head the other way? It’s not like I couldn’t stop before this to just check the places I put my feet.

Damn.

A chuckle distracts me from my thoughts and I look up, noticing for the first time there was someone standing right in front of me looking at me with a smile on his handsome face. ‘’Not a wall.’’ He says with his French accent.

Damn, why is this guy so beautiful? He’s around 5’11 and has light brown skin with the darkest eyes I have ever seen in my life. I’ve always preferred it when guys had longer hair, but his short hair suits him so incredibly well. He looks fit and muscular, and he’s looking so good while only wearing simple sweatpants and a t shirt with some air forces. Perfect lips that stretch into that beautiful smile that turns amused while he’s looking at me.

Wait. Amused?

It’s only then that I realize I’ve been shamelessly staring just now. I can feel myself flushing a little bit. Wait, what did he say? Not a wall? Oh! Shit, I bumped into him? Well damn he is built, built huh.

‘’Are you fine?’’ He asked. And me still being a bit flustered about being caught cursing out a supposed wall and then staring at said wall, just had to open my mouth and say something stupid. ‘’I’m fine, are you fine?’’ Like I could hurt him if I tried. And then unconsciously mumbled, ‘’You’re definitely fine.’’ Under my breath while looking him up and down again.

He chuckled again, and I widened my eyes while quickly looking up at his eyes. Fuck! He heard that? What is wrong with me? Why did I say that out loud?! He was definitely laughing at me now, and I could feel that flush becoming a bit more prominent. I don’t get embarrassed easily, but this certainly was not how I wanted my mouth to be working today. So maybe I was a bit more tired than I initially thought. Sue me. He was so beautiful, though I couldn’t help but agree with my earlier statement.

This man is fine.

He took a step closer to me and held out his hand for a handshake, ‘’I’m Kylian, but you can call me Ky.’’ He said while looking me dead in the eyes and giving me a smirk that suggested he undoubtedly heard what I just said. Not a single doubt about it. The smile was bad enough already, but a smirk like this? Sir is trying to kill me, isn’t he?

So really this time I couldn’t even get mad about my mouth not cooperating with my brain because the next thing I know I’m reaching out and shaking his hand saying ‘’Nice to meet you. I’m Riri, but you can call me your girlfriend.’’

I can see his eyes sparkle and his lips twitching, while my hand goes slack in his, along with my jaw falling to the floor. Since when was I this goddamn smooth?! It’s only smooth when my body can keep up, and obviously my treacherous body cannot. My eyes are wide, and my mouth is wide open. I can’t believe I just said that. I’m never this bold. I don’t even want to date?! What is wrong with me.

My expression must have set him off because he couldn’t hold back the loud laugh that escaped him after seeing my reaction to my own words. Watching him laugh, I forget all about my embarrassment because it’s honestly a sight to see.

Damn Riri, snap out of it. I can’t be daydreaming for the third time while he’s standing right there!

His hand tightens around mine while his laugh dies down. I totally forgot he was still holding my hand. I am so out of it, what is even the date today? He bends down and leaves a kiss on my knuckles while looking me in the eyes, ‘’Enchanté’’ He says.

See, I knew this man was bad news. Who just does that? Who tries to kill a random person on the street like that, huh? Being all attractive and shit. It’s me dying here, please call an ambulance or something. Why is this so attractive? And how is this even happening to me right now?

‘’Kylian!’’ I hear from behind me. Kylian glances over my shoulder and lets go of my hand. I turn to look and see a guy standing there telling him to hurry up, or they’ll be late. We turn back to each other, and he looks apologetic while opening his mouth ‘’I have to go, I’m sorry. Maybe we will meet again.’’ He says ‘’If it’s fate.’’ He adds and gives me another beautiful smile and quickly rushes past me to join up with the other guy before they both get in a black SUV and drive off.

I stand there blankly staring at the wall for who knows how long before I regain my senses. I don’t even bother going to the café anymore. I just head straight back to the hotel and find my room.

Jumping on the bed, I bury my head in my pillow and groan loudly. This was NOT what I had in mind when I told Jess I would tell her about the hot guys I would see. I thought I would only see. Not actually interact?! What even is my life right now? I have weird butterflies in my stomach that I definitely don’t want to feel, and I’m buzzing in my skin as if that man has given me the goddamn moon.

I try to calm down a bit. Okay, he obviously just caught me at a bad time. A time when my brain to mouth systems seemed to be malfunctioning. There’s no way we will meet each other again, though. And even if we did. I would absolutely not react in that same way. Oh my god. I groan again. That was so out of character for me. This is crazy.

After laying in bed for a couple more minutes, I decide to take a shower and a quick nap before heading out to dinner with my dad. This should relax me enough not to think about it anymore, hopefully.

Around fifteen minutes later, I’m all fresh and ready to take a nap. The warm water really helped me relax. I set my alarm for a couple of hours later and fall asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.

.

.

.

A/N

Word count: 2166 Words.

Just to clear things up a bit. Like i mentioned earlier in the story, Riri and her parents are from the Netherlands so they speak Dutch. whenever she is speaking with her parents please assume she is speaking in Dutch. It would get a bit tiring if i have to write that too and then translate it for you guys. I made the express dicision not to put those conversations in Italics because I prefer writing it this way. I hope you can still follow the story without any confusion!

Also, finally the Kylian debut. I'm a bit nervous about how I did. Let me know your thoughts!

[patheticlittlemen]

WORK WIFE

[Edward Nashton x male reader]

Chapter 1- Do You Ever Get Scared?

Drinks with coworkers won’t change your life. Right?

Words: 1880

Warnings: None

A/N: Reader is FTM and autistic (not huge plot points but may be mentioned in minor ways)

Being a receptionist wasn’t really the plan for your future. Honestly, you’ve had stars in your eyes since you were a child and finally getting out of Gotham made you believe you could maybe, just maybe, leave a mark on the world. But eventually, it all came crashing down, and look where you are now. Working a receptionist job at a forensic accounting company in Gotham.

You hate this city. Getting out and going to college was supposed to be your salvation, but if there is a God, he is a vengeful one. So here you are, working at a company you couldn’t give less of a shit about. You lost all your friends when you moved out of Gotham, so when you came back all you had was your mom. The most exciting Friday night plan was binging TV and eating takeout.

Today was no different from any other. It’s Friday, so of course you’re excited for the weekend but are also dreading the terrible loneliness that came with it. Lost in your own thoughts and mulling over shows to watch tonight, you spot movement in the corner of your eye.

You look up and jump at the sudden appearance, relaxing when you see that it’s Edward Nashton. He’s an accountant in the office and probably the closest thing you have to a friend. You only see him at work but enjoy every conversation. Edward smiles at your surprised expression.

“Hey. I brought you some coffee.” He says, placing a paper cup on your desk. “Cream and sugar just how you like.”

You smile thankfully at him and take a sip.

When you first met Edward, he was shy and tensed up any time you talked to him. After working together for a few months, he finally loosened up and became more friendly. You’re glad he did because if he had kept his distance you probably would have had a psychotic break due to isolation. You will admit you’ve grown a crush on him, but you’re too afraid of rejection to make a move.

“I hope you know when I get rich and famous, I’m gonna pay you back for all the coffee you’ve made me.” You say jokingly.

“I’ll take it. What would you get famous for though?” Edward leans against your desk.

“Hmm.. probably for being the best receptionist in the world.” You say overdramatically as Edward lets out a chuckle.

“You’re definitely the best at this company.”

“Well, I’m flattered.”

The sound of the door opening catches both of you off guard as someone enters the building. You shoot an apologetic glance at Edward, who smiles understandingly and walks off while you deal with the guest.

After sitting for hours and greeting maybe two more people, you get up to stretch and go to the bathroom. You smile at your coworkers who were talking in the break room and go to do your business. Once you exit though, someone in the break room stops you.

“Hey Y/N, we’re going out for drinks tonight and want everyone there. You interested?” says Benjamin, someone that you didn’t know well but was always cordial to you.

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll go,” you say, excited for the chance to be around people outside of work.

“Awesome. I’ll text you the details.” He said, smiling as you turn to walk away.

You begrudgingly walk back to your desk and prepare to waste more time. About half an hour passes when Edward comes back to your desk. You look up, once again surprised to see somebody.

“Oh, hey Edward. What’s up?” you say, looking back to the intense game of solitaire you were playing on your computer.

“Nothing really, I was just… wondering if you were going out tonight. To the thing. I mean, drinks with everyone.” he seems uncharacteristically nervous and stumbles over his words.

“Yeah, planning on it. You?” You glance up at him and his cheeks turn red. He mumbles something in response but clears his throat and speaks up.

“Yes, I’m going. I was just asking because I think we live in the same area. I thought we could carpool.”

“Oh, that’s right. That works for me, who do you want to drive?” you say, feeling eager that he wants to go with you.

“I can. I don’t drink much anyway.”

“Sounds good. Here, give me your number so I can text you my address.” You say, opening your contacts and passing him your phone.

Edward accidentally touches your hand while grabbing your phone and you could feel that it was sweaty. Luckily your hands don’t sweat much otherwise you’re sure he would feel the same thing from you. He hands your phone back with an awkward smile.

“Awesome. I’ll text you after work.”

“Cool. Uh, I guess I’d better get back to… what I was doing.” Edward says, nervously shuffling away, which makes you laugh a little.

Edward hasn’t been this timid since you met him, which confuses you a little, but you brush it off as him being nervous for tonight. Speaking of, your phone buzzes and you see a text from Benjamin.

Benjamin: We’re planning on meeting at Gotham Trade around 6:30 PM. Hope to see you there :)

The rest of the day drones by with you passing the time thinking about what you might wear while playing (and losing) games of solitaire. Finally, the clock hits 5 and you quickly gather all your stuff and practically run out the door. The promise of human interaction with anybody outside of work, let alone Edward, made you giddy.

After arriving home, you realize you haven’t texted him yet. You pull out your phone and open your contacts to Edward’s page, trying to ignore any nervousness you had about texting him while clicking the message button.

Y/N: Hey Edward, it’s Y/N. Just wanted to send my address and let you know I should be ready around 6 or so.

After sending the message and your address, you drop all your stuff and make a beeline for the shower. Admittedly, it had been a while since your last one. At the moment dry shampoo was your best friend.

After calming yourself down with a warm shower, you try to choose an outfit. Gotham Trade isn’t a very fancy place so you don’t want to wear anything super nice. Still, you want to look good so you spend a little extra time digging through your closet and eventually settle on a white button-down under a sweatshirt. Not too nice but a little more than casual. While grabbing a pair of jeans from your floor and checking to make sure they still smell clean, you hear your phone buzz.

Edward: Sounds good. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.

You feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Edward coming to pick you up. Pushing the intense feelings down, you continue to get ready. You decide to use a nice cologne that had been sitting on your dresser for a while. It was a gift from your mom for your last birthday and it made you happy that you finally had a reason to use it. You spray some on and grab your phone to check the time, seeing a message from Edward.

Edward: Heading out now.

You didn’t even realize how close to 6 it was and frantically put on a pair of shoes. Using the last few minutes to mess with your hair, you pray that it would stay neat as your phone buzzes again with a message from Edward letting you know he was here. You double-check to make sure you have everything you need as you leave your apartment, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

It’s just Edward. It’s just a work get-together. It’s not that serious.

The chilly wind bites at your face when you step outside and you wish you had put on another layer before you left, but it’s too late for that now. Edward is parked next to the curb, anxiously looking around. You wave to him and his face relaxes a bit as you walk up to his car and open the door.

“Hey,” you say, settling in the passenger seat, “thanks for driving me.”

“Oh, it was no problem. It’s nice to see you outside of work, plus we live close so it made sense to me.” Edward says, pulling onto the road.

While Edward focuses on driving, you took this opportunity to get a good look at what he was wearing. He had on a button-up shirt like he did to work but had jeans and a dark green cardigan on as well. You notice that his hair looked a bit wet, he probably took a shower after work too. Suddenly you were pulled out of your observations as he glances over at you. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you look away.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Edward.” You mumble, trying to alleviate the embarrassment of being caught staring. He chuckles at your statement.

You stared out the window for a moment until gaining the courage to compliment him.

“I like your-”

“You look-”

Both of your sentences die out as you wait for the other to finish. When neither of you continues, you laugh and speak up.

“I just wanted to say I like your sweater. Green looks nice on you.” Edward smiles at that, letting out a sheepish “thanks”.

“Um, I think you look nice. You smell good too.” Edward’s brows furrow a bit at the last comment as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Thanks! It’s a cologne that was a gift from my mom and I’m glad to finally use it.” Normally when you got nervous you had a tendency to ramble but luckily you were able to stop yourself there. You feel kind of silly about how anxious you were. It was as if you were a middle schooler going on their first date. You struggle to come up with something to break the silence until Edward speaks up before you.

“Have you ever been to this bar before?”

“Once or twice, with my mom. I’m not a huge bar person.” You admit. Edward smiles, nodding.

“I’ve never been there. I just don’t get out much I guess.”

“Well, this is a great time to start. Maybe you’ll meet some pretty lady tonight. Or a man, you do you. I know I sure wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” You joke. Edward laughs nervously and glances at you.

“I doubt it.”

“Who wouldn’t want a piece of you? I know I’m holding back every time you come to my desk.” You say, regretting the sentence the minute it comes out of your mouth. It came out as a joke, as you had a tendency to jokingly flirt with your friends but you still hope any sincerity in the confession was hidden.

Edward doesn’t say anything for a second but his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head as his car approaches the warmly lit building. You look out the window at the buildings and hope you’re able to make it through the night.

[anonymousjos]

Nine:

God will provide: Reading Day 9

Happy Monday! Today I have a sinus infection AND pink eye! Last Friday my husband came home and said, I’m pretty sure a girl at work has pink eye. Saturday morning I woke up with pink eye, did he manifest this!?

This weekend was still a good weekend, I raked the yard and burned the leaves. The front ditch looks great (I’m pretty sure the last owners never did this) and every muscle in my body is sore! My husband mowed the yard and worked on the pool, the girls swam in the pool- a lot. I took my car in for a much needed oil change and we had Sonic and played outside at the playground while we waited. The girls had so much fun there. We also wrapped up the editing of last weekends photo shoots and they both turned out beautifuly!

Tonight I go in for a sleep study and I’m nervous about leaving my little one. My husband and B will be fine but my Henny is just such a momma’s girl. I hate the idea of her crying for me. Fingers crossed this goes well and we can mark sleep apnea off the list and move on to other reasons I am cronicly exausted. Speaking of health updates, yesterday was my last shot at the current dose of my semaglutie but because I gained two pounds in the last few days I went ahead and increased a half dose. We will see how it goes. This week I get to see the Rumo! And B has her first play, it’s 50’s themed.

Anyway, back to our bible study! This morning I was able to get in two chapters Genises 26 – 27.

In this chapter there's a famine in the land and Isaac travels away from the land he is in. God tells him to stay in the land of the Philistines and he decides to pull one of his father's old tricks and he tells the king of the Philistines that his wife Rebecca is his sister. The king then catches Isaac and Rebecca together asks why Isaac would lie to them about this, someone could have lain with Rebecca and brought guilt upon their land.  Isaac said he was afraid someone would kill him for Rebecca.

The king allowed Isaac and Rebecca to stay in the land told everyone within the land to leave them alone. Isaac grew and gained flocks until the king sent him away because he was great.

Isaac found a place to stay in the valley and dug wells for water. My understanding her is that the local people claimed the first two wells they dug and when they dug the third well it was not claimed Isaac decided there was enough room for everyone there and stayed.

Later, the Philistines came and feasted with Isaac so that there would be peace.

There is also a small mention of Esau getting married.

We then learn that as Isaac grew old he lost his sight and when he knew his time of death was near he called his oldest son Esau and he asked that he hunt a deer for him and feed him so that Isaac may bless Esau before he died. Rebecca overheard the conversation and she instructed Jacob the second son to bring her a young goat so she could prepare it and Jacob could feed it to Isaac and pretend to be Esau so he could take the blessing. Jacob was worried that he would get caught because he was not hairy like Esau. Rebecca put goat hair on Jacob and sent him with the food to his father to pose as Esau. Jacob had gotten Esau's blessing when Esau returned with the deer. Isaac told Esau what had happened and that he gave Jacob the blessing by mistake. Esau cried out and swore he would kill Jacob after his father's death.  Rebecca sent Jacob away to her brother so that Esau could calm down.

Rebecca told Isaac that she did not want Jacob marry a local woman.

[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 1

“You can do this Marinette,” Adrien whispered encouragingly, echoing the mantra she’d been whispering to herself for the past two days.  She could do this.  She could manage.  This was for Max.  She could handle it.  He couldn’t be here but she could.  She could be strong for him.  She gave Adrien a shaky smile and nodded.  “We just have to find him and we can leave,” he reminded her.

Marinette took a breath and let it out slowly. She’d dealt with far, far worse than a few judgmental, heartless asses who had no real interest in her.  But seas of artificial smiles had always unsettled her and currently she was surrounded with so much artificial sweetness she felt like she was walking through a kid’s cereal aisle.  That added onto her already existing anxiety had her ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress, letting the feeling of the fabric and the knowledge of all that had gone into it soothe her.  She was especially proud of her dress and the work that had gone into it.  It was a black so dark it almost appeared to draw in the light around it.  A mesh with strategically placed blood red decorations overlaid the dress, hugging her bodice until it reached her hips then dropped into a flowing skirt that ended just before it could pool on the ground.

She fought the urge to fiddle with the belt in her nervousness.  She couldn’t show weakness like that, not here.  She looked up at Adrien again in search of an anchor to reality.  She took in his expression and had to stifle the laugh that resulted.  He had his own artificially sweet smile on but his eyes quite clearly begged for a quick death.  He glanced down to her and nudged her discreetly, his artificial smile becoming wide and real.  “Shhhh,” he hushed her under his breath.  “We’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves, remember?  We’re ghosts.”  He looked around to make sure nobody was looking at them.

Marinette immediately quieted, her face becoming somber. She did remember.  In and out.  That was the goal.  Her goal. Knock the man on his ass with Max’s accomplishments, then never see him, or anyone else in this room, other than Adrien of course, ever again.  They were supposed to be like ghosts.  There but not.  Her eyes scanned the room looking for their target.

Adrien’s eyes immediately softened and filled with regret.  “Shit, Mari. I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” she looked up at him with an artificial smile of her own.  “I know. It’s fine.  It’s not your fault.”  She scanned the crowd again, cursing her height, as she had many times in her life.  Even with the six inch, death defying heels, she still barely reached Adrien’s eyes, let alone give her any kind of advantage to see the crowd.  She needed some kind of vantage point but unfortunately, the only high point in the ballroom was the stage, which she couldn’t utilize if she was going to follow her Ghost policy.  “We might have more success if we split up.  Let me know if you find him.”

Adrien squeezed her arm quickly before nodding. “Good luck.”

Marinette shot him a genuine smile.  “You too.  May the Luck be with you.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head.  “I never should have forced you to watch that movie.”

Marinette grinned back.  “You never should have forced me to watch the prequels.  The original ones were just fine.”  Adrien narrowed his eyes at her but let it drop in favor of disappearing in the crowd to find their target.

Marinette followed him with her eyes until she couldn’t see him anymore then took a deep breath to brace herself.  Her eyes immediately started darting around and her fingers started dancing.  She needed something to occupy them or she was going to start attracting unwanted attention.

She noted a bar close by and made a beeline for it. She waited politely for the bartender to notice her, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar while she waited. She froze when she heard a gruff voice next to her.  “Did you sneak in here?”

She turned to the voice and blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

“You’re anxious and jittery.  Afraid you’re going to get kicked out?” the man elaborated.

Marinette studied him for a moment trying to figure out why he looked so familiar.  “No,” she started slowly, trying to give her brain a chance to answer the puzzle. “Just not a fan of events like this.”

The man scoffed and nodded in understanding. “Cheers.”  He raised his glass for her to clink his but she held out her hands with a sheepish look, showing she didn’t have a drink yet.  “Well, that’s a crime.  Nobody should have to endure one of these without a drink.”  He motioned to the bartender and got an immediate response. “Another for me and a…” he motioned to Marinette to give her order.

“Oh, champagne, please,” she finished with a smile for the bartender.  That’s what was socially acceptable at events like this, right?  Champagne.

The bartender looked to the man for confirmation. The man nodded.  “And a champagne for the woman.”  Marinette scowled at the bartender causing the man to laugh. “He’s just worried that you’re underage. You look awfully young.  You’re not, right?”

Marinette’s glare softened in realization.  “Oh, that makes sense.  No, I’m not.  I forgot the legal age here is higher than in France.”

He nodded and looked at her critically for a moment before offering his hand.  “Jason.”

Marinette immediately reached out for his hand and answered with her name before her brain registered the name he’d given. Jason.  Jason Todd.  Bruce Wayne’s son.  She pulled her hand back quickly as the realization hit her and focused on leveling her breathing.  She grabbed the champagne glass more violently than necessary when the bartender set it down in front of her and immediately downed the entire glass, only coughing a bit as the bubbles tickled her throat.  Overall, champagne was not the best drink to chug.  “Another, please,” she croaked out.

“You know, there are better drinks for that, if that’s what you want to do,” Jason grinned, laughing at her.

“Wasn’t the plan until it was and then that’s all I had,” she croaked out, her voice still hoarse from the bubbles.  She kept her eyes focused on her empty glass as she spoke, almost afraid to make eye contact with him as if just seeing her eyes would be enough to blow her cover.

Jason chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Don’t suppose you’d care to dance?”

Marinette whipped her head to him and stared incredulously, forgetting her previous reservations.  She only moved again when the bartender set the new drink down in front of her.  “Um… no… thank you.  That doesn’t seem… I don’t think my date would be comfortable with that.  Good luck getting drunk enough to handle tonight though.”  She gave him a weak smile and raised her glass to him before moving into the fray again, now armed with a socially acceptable fidget toy.

It took five minutes of avoiding wandering hands and leering looks but with a little luck and some prodding from the goddess hiding in the folds of her skirt, she was finally able to stumble on M. Lucius Fox, Director of Research and Development for Wayne Enterprises.  He was in a conversation he was not remotely interested in with some vapid business exec who was just as interested in M. Fox.  Not that M. Fox’s disinterest was clear.  He was very polite and good at covering his boredom, much more so than his conversation partner, but she’d been at enough stuffy, snobby parties with Adrien, Felix, and Chloe to know the signs.

She took another breath and squared her shoulders, going into Ladybug Mode; calm and confident, completely assured of herself. She was on a mission.  She had a goal and a plan to accomplish it, and once she had a plan, she had a direction and purpose, and with those, her insecurities fell away.  With M. Fox in her sights, she could see the pieces and the way they fit together. There were no more doubts.  She set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way over to M. Fox.

“The elusive M. Fox.  It is a pleasure to meet you,” Marinette purred, coming up next to him with a charming, real smile.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding,” Lucius responded with a polite smile of his own.

“Must just come naturally.  Foxes are known to be crafty.”  Marinette looked around them and motioned toward the dancefloor. “Would you care to dance, M. Fox?”

He shook his head deferentially.  “Are you sure there aren’t other people here you’d rather dance with?”

Marinette smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance.  She did NOT want to have her banter confused with flirting. That was not the strategy she had devised.  “That would defeat the purpose of coming here.  I came here specifically to speak with you.”

Lucius looked down at her analytically, trying to figure out what her angle was, but took her hand and followed her onto the dancefloor.  “And what did you want to speak about, Ms…?”

“Dupain Cheng.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.  It’s nice to meet you M. Fox.  I wanted to speak to you to sell my friend Max Kante.”

Lucius’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the music changed.  After a beat, he chuckled.  “I’m not in the market to buy anyone, but thank you.”  He settled his hands on her mid-back and hand for their dance.

Marinette chuckled good naturedly along with him. “Sell his talents, would be a better way to say it.”

“And where is Mr. Kante?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, curious why the young man didn’t bother to come himself.  “Why are you presenting his talents instead of him?”

“Finals.  Had the incredibly bad luck to have a Friday at noon final.  I mean at least it wasn’t at 19h, right?  Can you believe they have those?”  She scrunched up her nose in playful disgust.  “But still means he’s taking it right now.  And for his last final of his career.  I mean… probably.  Knowing him, he might get another PhD at some point.  My finals and presentation ended last week.  M. Wa…” she took a steadying breath and looked back up with a strained smile hoping he wouldn’t notice the stutter.  “M. Wayne even visited for it.  That’s when the idea for this came to me.  So while Max studied, I plotted.”

“So why me then and not Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a curious interest.

Marinette froze for just a second.  Hardly enough for anyone to notice.  Her mind raced to calculate the appropriate response to that question, a satisfactorily casual yet intelligent response.  “M. Wayne isn’t in charge of research.  You are.  Not to mention, I highly doubt the CEO would be involved enough in the research and development projects to know what was going on.  You I take as a man who knows what is going on with all your ongoing projects.”

He nodded.  She wasn’t wrong, or normally wouldn’t be.  Mr. Wayne usually was not involved in any projects and with the exception of one particular project they were having issues with, he wouldn’t know the particulars.  “A very dangerous and elaborate plan.  Why didn’t you make an appointment with me?  Or just stop me on the street?” he prodded, hoping for her thought process.

Marinette laughed lightly.  “I don’t imagine I would have had a chance in Hell of making an appointment with you in your office.  I have no standing, no name, no significance that would have attracted any PA worth their salt’s attention.  I would have been pawned off onto a low ranking employee to handle, if I was handled at all.  And something like this needed to be taken to you.  

“As for running into you on the street, I can’t imagine you would have responded positively to getting accosted on the street. You seem more than capable of handling yourself with grace in the face of a pest.  I doubt I would have gotten more than a few words in.  At a gala however,” she grinned conspiratorially at him. “Societal convention.  Almost absolute certainty of at least one dance where I would have you one-on-one for a few minutes.  Hostage audience.  Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

Lucius smiled back at her ingenuity.  “There’s an application process he could have gone through,” he noted.  

Mari nodded and looked out to the crowd, scanning it.  “Right, applying to M. Fedor Rabler,” she said distractedly.  “He did that.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  Their application process was tough.  Lots of amazing candidates didn’t get through. He had to respect her devotion to her friend, to risk coming here and potentially making an enemy of Wayne Enterprises if he’d been that sort of man.  His eyes turned sympathetic.  “I’m sorry he was passed over.”

“You know, I’ve noticed Elspeth Cole puts forth a lot of inventions and extremely varied ones at that,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his consolation.  “Most inventors, you can see their process, you can see how they got from one invention to the next, but hers… they’re so varied.  It’s almost like they’re coming from completely different people.”  Lucius watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with this.  “That’s them, isn’t it?  Dancing together.  Awfully close for purely colleagues.”

Lucius followed her sight line to Ms. Cole and Mr. Rabler dancing extremely closely.  Not obscenely, but perhaps a bit closer than was normally acceptable at a society event such as this one.  “It’s hardly incriminating that two people with expertise in electrical engineering would get together,” he said slowly.

“Max is amazing.  Brilliant,” Marinette said, seemingly not noticing her non-sequitur. “He created an AI that helped the Parisian superheroes locate and defeat our supervillain at only 14.”  Lucius’ brow rose.  That was certainly promising.  He wondered what would have caused them not to take such an applicant.  Surely there was some sort of embellishment there, but as he studied her, she seemed entirely genuine.  

“He’s being scouted by several high profile companies including Lexcorp and Palmer Technologies.”  She turned her attention back to Lucius, a curious pout on her lips. “But not Wayne Enterprises.”  She looked away with clearly forced casualness. “Lexcorp and Palmer, they’re offering pretty impressive packages.  Not as good as he deserves in my opinion, but I may be a bit biased.  Wayne Enterprises however… nothing.  Not even an offer.

“Now, I don’t really have a dog in the fight… other than wanting my friend to be safe and treated with the respect he deserves. But Palmer Technologies gets blown up by a villain or its inventors kidnapped far too frequently for me to be comfortable with my friend working there.  And Lexcorp…”  She looked down as if in thought before looking back at him again with a determined look in her eye.

“You know, I get a feeling sometimes.  I can’t really explain it, just get a feeling about people or things.  I’ve found it’s best for me and the people around me if I listen to that feeling and that feeling tells me Lex Luthor is the last person who should be trusted with a brain as brilliant as Max’s.”  She looked back over to Mr. Rabler and Ms. Cole.  “That same feeling told me Max shouldn’t trust the application process for Wayne Enterprises.”  

She looked back at Lucius with an apologetic smile. “No offense.  So, I convinced Max to make a small part of his submission just a little off.  Just a bit. Enough that even an expert could miss it, but if it’s wrong the project could never work.  It took a lot of convincing to get him to do it.  He refused to believe he had anything to worry about in Wayne Enterprises with its stellar reputation.”  She scrunched up her face in annoyance.  “But that feeling, you know?  I couldn’t get over it.  After a lot of work, I convinced him there was no harm.  After all, if he was hired he could fix it.  If he wasn’t… well, you shouldn’t be using what he presented anyway, right? No harm, no foul as you Americans say.”

“No,” Lucius agreed.  “That would be theft and completely against WE policy and standards.  In fact, we should not be asking applicants to submit anything like that in the first place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded approvingly.  “I’ve heard rumblings, or rather Max has, of WE getting into transmutation of materials.  Just can’t get that algorithm right though, can you?  Algorithms are hard.  Just a little off and nothing works.”

He stared at her.  That was a secret project.  Other departments in Wayne Enterprises didn’t even know about it.  “I can’t comment on ongoing projects.”  

“I never did show you what Max is capable of, did I?”  She gave him a bright smile and reached down to press a disguised button on her belt. Lucius tensed and cursed himself for exposing himself to whatever she was about to do.  A wave of emerald green washed over the front of her bodice as the blood red decorated mesh overlay turned into a brilliant emerald green that reflected the lights now rather than absorbing it.

Lucius’ eyes widened in surprise, a feat very few had been able to draw out of him.  “He designed the fabric?” he whispered out.  He reached out tentatively to touch the fabric at her shoulder.

Marinette grinned brilliantly at his reaction.  It was no less than Max deserved.  He’d worked incredibly hard on it.  “He did,” she nodded in confirmation, “and the software that controls it.  The whole dress can change but we’re kind of surrounded here and I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”  She let him touch it for a moment before pushing the button again to turn it back into the black, then allowing him to feel the mesh to confirm it was the same fabric.  “He has ideas for changing the texture as well, but limited resources you know? Something I’d hope wouldn’t be an issue at WE.”

“How does it work?”  His eyes were still focused on the fabric at her shoulder. He took a quick look at the rest of the bodice, but quickly snapped his eyes back to her shoulder.  The neckline was conservative, but it was still rather unbecoming to stare at the young woman’s chest.

Marinette laughed.  “You’ll have to ask Max that.  I just designed the dress.  I don’t really understand the mechanics behind it, but he does.  I doubt Ms. Cole can say the same.”

Lucius stared in awe at her shoulder before looking back up to her eyes and nodding in understanding.  “Interesting.  I’ll take that under advisement.  Maybe we should be scouting you as well.”

Mari laughed.  “No, thank you.  I’m not an inventor.  I’m a designer.  But I appreciate the interest.”

Lucius nodded and led her off the dancefloor with the end of the song.  “Inventor or not, we can always use someone with intuition, intelligence, and ingenuity like you’ve demonstrated.”  

Marinette gave him a brilliant, somewhat familiar smile. “That’s very flattering.  Thank you, M. Fox.  But tonight is about Max.  I have my own, separate plans for my future.”

Lucius nodded in understanding.  “Our loss,” he answered sincerely.  “If you ever need any help or advice, please feel free to call me.  I’m sure Mr. Kante will have it soon enough and can pass it onto you.”  He looked back down to her shoulder again.  “If I may…”  He motioned toward her shoulder.  

Marinette laughed.  “Of course.  I understand how truly impressive it is.  It’s been incredibly inspirational, thinking of the options.”

“And what did your intuition tell you about tonight?” He looked up to meet her eyes, curious about her answer.

Marinette’s face went slack for a moment before she pasted on a bittersweet smile.  “That it would be costly but worth it.”

Lucius quirked his head to the side.  “In what way?”

Marinette shook her head absently and took a sudden interest in M. Fox’s tie.  “I’m not sure yet.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes softened.  “Would he be available to meet on Monday?”

Marinette grin and snapped her eyes up to him. Mission success!  Max was going to get his interview!  “He can be.”

“I’d actually like to speak with both of you, if you don’t mind.  In my office at 10 Monday?” he offered.  

Marinette faltered.  “In Wayne Enterprises?”

Lucius chuckled.  “Naturally.”

Marinette swallowed heavily.  “Why don’t we meet somewhere else?  Early morning coffee perhaps?” she offered instead with an artificial smile.  “Here’s my card.  Have someone give me a call or text and I can arrange it.  He’s scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning.  He was supposed to meet with Lexcorp Monday morning, but he’ll be at coffee to meet you instead.”

Lucius smiled back at her as he slipped her card into his pocket.  “I greatly appreciate your candor and support Ms. Dupain Cheng.”  He took her hand in both of his to shake it.  “I cannot tell you how good it was to meet you.  And if you ever get one of those feelings about me or Wayne Enterprises, let me know, okay?”

“Lucius.”

Lucius froze at the cold voice, not accustomed to that tone of voice directed at him.  He looked over curiously and missed Marinette freezing before pushing another button on her belt.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm

[phillippadgettwrites]

Unlucky

Rated X / 1648 words / Posted on AO3

“It’s Friday the 13th,” he says lightly, and she looks up from her computer. 

“So it is,” she says. 

“I’m guessing you don’t ascribe to the superstitions around it,” he says, a rhetorical assumption. Of course she doesn’t.

She smirks and returns to her work, speaking with her eyes on the screen. 

“It’s confirmation bias, Mulder. If something bad happens on Friday the 12th, you think nothing of it. But if it happens on Friday the 13th, it’s because the day is unlucky.”

“That may be true, but I think most of my days would qualify as unlucky,” he replies, leaning back in his chair to survey the state of his pencil collection displayed in the ceiling tiles.

“Well, maybe Friday the 13th is lucky for you, then,” she quips, and he gives her an appraising look. 

This thing between them is so achingly new. Too new for him to make a joke about getting lucky, too new to ask if she’ll come over tonight, too new to admit that he doesn’t want to be alone. Part of him wants to ask her what it means, or what she wants it to mean. If it’s just sex or something more. A bigger part of him is too afraid that the question itself will spook her back into the platonic longing that they were mired in for so many years. The idea alone keeps the question far from his lips, instead rattling around in his cluttered mind with a million other thoughts he won’t dare say out loud for fear of rejection or ridicule.

Five o’clock comes and goes, and he watches her gather her things before she bids him a good weekend. He returns the sentiment, a little voice in the back of his head screaming at him to ask her if she wants to get dinner, or watch a movie, or literally anything where they can be in the same room. When he hears the elevator doors slide closed he slumps down in his chair, defeated. Whether it be for lack of luck or lack of courage, today is not a great day. 

--

He’s in the kitchen warming up leftover Chinese food when she knocks on his door. He opens it to find her looking even smaller than normal, though she’s sporting some of her tallest heels. Not smaller physically, but something about her is a little less dauntless than usual. She’s wrapped in a knee length trench coat, which strikes him as odd given the unseasonably warm weather, her hands tucked deep into its pockets. Her eyes dart from his face to his shoulder to his chest, and he gets the sense that she’s gathering courage. 

“Can I come in?” she asks, and he steps aside to make space for her to enter. 

Her demeanor is off putting, and the realization that this may be the live version of a Dear John letter sends his heart plummeting straight into his belly. In a way, he anticipated this moment from their very first kiss, but the knowledge that it was only a matter of time doesn’t make it any easier. She stands directly in front of him, keeping her coat on as though she doesn’t intend to stay long. 

“I just–” she starts, but then stops and heaves a sigh. She slowly tilts her chin up to meet his eye, her lip pinned between her teeth. “I thought maybe this Friday the 13th could be the one where you finally get lucky,” she says as a flush steadily creeps up her neck and colors her cheeks. 

He quirks his head in confusion, and she pulls her hands from her pockets and tugs at the tie on her trench coat. It falls open slightly, just enough that he can see a sliver of porcelain skin from her chest down to her belly, broken up only by black lace. His mouth falls open in surprise, but immediately it stretches into a broad smile. He’s speechless, utterly and truly shocked beyond words. 

She smiles an abashed little smirk, dropping her head and moving to pull her coat closed. 

“Sorry,” she mutters. “That was—sorry.”

The prospect of her leaving startles him into action. 

“No! No,” he says too loudly, reaching out to still her hands. “I’m just surprised, but in a good way. You just unwittingly fulfilled one of my long-held fantasies, actually,” he says with his own shy smile. 

She narrows her eyes a little, considering him. 

“Someone showing up at your door with a trench coat on and nothing underneath is a long-held fantasy of yours?” she asks, more with disbelief than judgment. 

“No,” he says, reaching out to pull the coat open wider and take in her black lace bra and matching panties. “Not someone, you.”

“Oh,” she says, and the confidence she typically carries herself with begins to return. “Well in that case, what happens next?” she asks. 

He leads her to the couch and sits down, then guides her to stand in the space between his knees. She pushes the coat off her shoulders and it puddles on the floor around her feet, but he can’t take his eyes off her face. This hungry way she’s looking at him, this wanting way, is maybe the best part of their changing relationship. To be wanted by her is a gift he never could have hoped to receive in his wildest dreams. 

“This is very expensive lingerie, Mulder, are you going to look at it?” she teases, and he smiles as though he’s been caught. 

“Sorry. I spent a very long time training myself to keep my eyes on your face,” he says, slowly dropping his gaze to her chest, her belly, her hips. “It’s a hard habit to break.”

She puffs a little laugh through her nose, then steps forward and lifts one leg, planting her knee on the couch near his hip. She repeats the movement with her other leg, sitting atop his jeans-clad thighs like a queen on her throne. Her hands land on his shoulders and his on her hips, and he looks at her for a very long time. He maps each freckle, each scar: the shiny, knotted mark of a bullet wound and silvery, faded stretch marks. 

“What are we doing, Mulder?” she asks, and he looks up at her face to see something familiar: fear. She’s as afraid of the answer as he is. 

He shakes his head gently. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But I know I don’t want to stop.”

She leans forward, kissing him sweetly. He tugs on her hips and she slides towards him until they are flush. She’s so soft and warm, a personified fantasy but as real as rain. The little satisfied noises she makes as she kisses him are like precious gems, and he feels like a wealthy man regardless of the balance in his bank account. Lucky. He feels so incredibly lucky. 

When she moves off of him so he can disrobe, she kneels on the floor at his feet. Her fingers tease the skin on his belly as she unbuttons his jeans, and she looks up at him as she tugs them off his hips, his erection springing free and brushing against her chin. She smiles coyly, which makes his cock jump, and she keeps her eyes on his as she takes the head between her lips, delivering several soft licks to the underside. 

Unreal. It’s impossible for one person to be as many things as she is. To fill as many roles as she does in his life. They say that one person cannot be all things to another, but she is living proof that it isn’t true. 

They never make it back to the couch. He crawls over her, the area rug leaving dents in his knees, and peels that expensive lingerie from her lithe body. He makes her laugh, and gasp, stifling her cries with her teeth sunk into his shoulder. He teases her until she groans in frustration, then pushes him onto his back and sits high and proud in his lap while she envelops him in her tight heat. Watching the soft undulation of her hips forward and back, the knit of her eyebrows as she whimpers with pleasure, hearing the huskiness in her voice when she tells him how good he feels: nothing in his life has ever felt as good as this, and he suspects it never will. 

She touches herself shyly, watching his face, and he marvels at how much she trusts him. He mumbles encouraging words, his eyes sewn to the spot where her finger dances in circles over her clit. Her cunt grabs at him eagerly, her head dropping back as a melodic lilt drifts from her parted lips. He closes his eyes briefly, savoring the feeling of her coming around him, until he can’t hold back anymore. 

They never talked about condoms, or pulling out, pregnancy being so far from a concern it’s painful. Being inside her, leaving a part of himself behind, is as primal as it is intimate. As close as he can get to her is where he wants to be, and he’s there, relishing in every millisecond. 

Luck is a horseshoe, a four leaf clover, an intersection of circumstance and timing. What he has is nothing short of divine intervention, should he choose to believe in it. That she would exist, that they would find each other, and that she would love him is beyond the realm of chance. 

Maybe she is his luck. The one thing that makes everything else better, that turns losses into wins in the most unexpected ways. On every subsequent shooting star and penny-strewn fountain, he’ll be wishing that his luck never runs out, and thanking whatever deity or alignment of the stars made Friday the 13th his new favorite day. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

[hops-hunny]

Yo-yo’s Girl

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: N/A

Summary: Kyoya’s girlfriend is a lot a bit different than what they expected.

Warnings: None, could be read as a chubby or plus size reader!

A/N: This was self indulgent. I wrote this at like 2 AM and didn’t know until I woke up.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Haruhi asked, already done with Tamaki's antics. She knew this was a bad idea but with the promise of some of her debt being removed, she couldn't find herself to do anything but go along with the blonde's crazy scheme.

"Why of course it will! When have you ever known of my plans to go wrong?" He responded, placing a hand over his heart as he swooned around dramatically. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged looks with each other before looking back at Tamaki.

"Do you really want us to answer that?" They chimed, causing Tamaki to deflate with a defeated look. He looked over at Haruhi with puppy dog eyes, hoping the girl would agree with him. She offered him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen senpai, don't get me wrong, sometimes your ideas are great but isn't this...a bit much? I mean why can't we just ask Kyoya about his love life? Do we really need this elaborate plan?" She asked, hoping he would budge. She looked down as Honey hung off her arm, Mori trailing behind him.

"Don't be silly, Haru-chan! Kyoya senpai is a private guy. He wouldn't trust us with anything like that." He said, climbing off the girl and back onto Mori. She let her eyes drift to Mori in hopes he'd help but he just let out a grunt of agreement. She sighed in defeat knowing she wasn't going to get through to them. How had they gotten into this dumb plan in the first place?

It all started when Tamaki overheard Kyoya on the phone with someone and from the tone in the raven haired boy's voice, he assumed it was a girl. More specifically, his girlfriend. However, any other time Tamaki didn't wanna intrude so to avoid doing so, he decided they would all follow him after school to see if that's where he was going!

As they saw a familiar head of black hair walk towards the school gates, they all began to walk behind him, attempting to be as quiet as possible. They had been following him for a few blocks, leading to a nice but unfamiliar part of town; however as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, they all began to hide behind a bush but halted their motions when they heard him speak.

"Do you honestly think I didn't see any of you?" He questioned, not even turning around. They all stayed quiet in hopes that he would assume himself as crazy and continue to make his way down the street. But, as he turned around, parting the bushes, that idea flew out the window.

"Hey Kyoya! My dearest friend, I'd even go as far as to call you my bro-"

"Cut the bullshit Tamaki. Let me guess." He pushed his glasses up his nose before clearing his throat. "You thought that if you followed me you'd get to see my girlfriend, correct?" He asked, their wide eyes answering his question. However, where was the fun in that?

"That's exactly what we were doing! We wanna meet your girlfriend, Kyo-chan!" Honey piped up. The twins glared at him for his willingness to comply with Kyoya's questions so easily. Meanwhile Haruhi just sighed, slumping down even further.

"If you wanted to meet my girlfriend, you all could've just asked. I expected more from you, Haruhi. You should've known better." He chastised, watching the girl who's left eye was currently twitching. Without another word, Kyoya kept down his path towards the airport, leaving his companions to fight amongst each other.

----------------------

It was Friday of the same week and the rest of the hosts were beginning to grow hopeless about meeting Kyoya's girlfriend. Was she even real? Perhaps Tamaki's senses had been wrong and the conversation that played out earlier that week was simply meant to teach them a lesson. However, as the hosts were shutting things down for the day, slowly gathering there things to go home, Kyoya cleared his throat. They all turned to him, curious to what he had to say.

"Leaving so soon? And to think (Y/n) was coming to visit today. Oh well, I'll tell her you all said hi." Kyoya started, turning around to face the window. 3, 2,.. a chorus of hot fire questions started around him causing him to chuckle under his breath. "One at a time, I can't answer you all at once."

"Why doesn't (Y/n)-chan go to school with us?" Honey started, staring up at the tall boy. Kyoya turned to face the group, brushing off his blazer as he did so.

"She does during a portion of the year. Due to her parent's line of business, (Y/n) does one semester in the United States and one here in Japan. However, she is originally from America. Next question?"

"What do her parents do?" The twins said, angry with each other that they had asked the same question. "I thought my question was original.."

"I'm sure you've heard of the (L/n)'s before. They specialize in state of the art technology of all forms. Best selling in all of Japan. However, (Y/n) also has her own business under her parents that deals with unbreakable fine china, some of the best of it's kind but I'm afraid I'm biased." He smiled at the thought of his girlfriend, catching the other host off guard. Who was this girl who was able to make Kyoya smile?

"What's she like, senpai? I'm sure she must be special to catch your attention." Haruhi inquired. Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up as he thought of the many things he enjoyed about his girlfriend. He turned back to the window, looking out it once again.

"She makes me laugh and she's beautiful. Don't tell her that though. She always gets a big head when you do." He muttered, checking his watch for the time. She should've been here by now.

"She sounds absolutely radiant, Kyoya! When is she going to show?" Tamaki asked, sighing dreamily at the thought of his closest friend in love with a beautiful girl. Kyoya looked at the clock across the room before frowning slightly.

"She was supposed to.." he trailed off at the sound of his name being screamed continuously and the sound of loud footsteps growing closer. All of a sudden a blur of brown skin and thick thighs stormed in, jumping onto the man. Mori put Honey down, ready to fight if need be but stopped once he saw Kyoya wrap his arms around the girl, embracing her tightly.

"Darling! I'm sorry I'm late, I got hungry and stopped by that little bakery you showed me the other day!" The girl said, looking up at the boy who had an uncharacteristically warm smile. Everyone was even more shocked as he let out a laugh, stroking some of the girl's braids behind her back. She was a short girl, full of curves and rolls in all the right places. Her outfit was very casual compared to the things Kyoya wore on his free time. She had on a jean skirt and a form fitting striped shirt that made the undertones of her soft brown skin pop.

"I told you to let me know if you plan on going places beforehand. You know how sidetracked you get. You easily could've gotten lost." He lectured causing the girl to roll her eyes. She pouted, crossing her arms around her chest.

"Okay and? Clearly I didn't. Lay off 4 eyes. I'm here now aren't I? That's all that matters!" She jumped out of the boys arms finally before turning to face the rest of them. They all had the same question: 'How could such an energetic girl be with Kyoya?' "You're definitely Tamaki." She said, pointing to the blonde. He had a flattered look on as he began to say something but she cut him off. "You look just as annoying as Yo-yo said." She finished. Hikaru began to comfort their boss in the corner as Kaoru began to laugh.

"Yo-yo?" He choked out, laughing a bit more. Kyoya's face began to heat up more as he looked down at the short girl, a pissed expression on his face.

"(Y/n) I told you not to call me that in public." He said in an angry tone, looking away from the girl. She pouted some more, bringing a soft hand up to his face. As she stroked his cheek, hot tears began to form in the corner of her (e/c) eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kyoya! I forgot. You know me, I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your friends." He leaned into the girl's touch, looking down at her sad expression. How could he ever stay mad at that? He sighed quickly, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. She squeaked, unused to him initiating any sort of physical affection in public.

"Forgive me darling, I hate to see you so sad. How about I take you to one of those," his face turned slightly green as he grimaced some, "Commoner malls that you adore so much. I'll buy you anything you want. Hm?" The girl instantly perked, throwing her pudgy arms around her lanky boyfriend. He tensed a bit before hugging her back warmly, glaring at the twins who looked like they may say something to ruin the sweet moment. Haruhi watched in awe, feeling even herself grow emotional at how clearly in love her senpai was.

"Really? Let's go Kyo! What are we waiting for?" (Y/n) asked as she grabbed her boyfriend's hand, beginning to drag him towards the door forcefully. Once they were out she quickly peaked her head back in looking at the others.

"Well? Are you coming?"

[king-star]

Hi, for a drabble or fic request (whatever you can do) could you please do a Natasha x Reader where the reader is Tony's half sibling nobody knows about? They show up at the Compound to suprise Tony since he's been wanting to introduce them & Natasha not expecting anyone thinks they're an intruder attacking them but reader defends themselves because they have military training. Tony eventually fixes the misunderstanding. Fluff ensues. Thanks

Unfriendly Welcome

Warning: mild violence

Match:  Natasha Romanoff x Stark!Reader

Genre: Fluff (angst if you squint)

A/N: this one got a little out of hand… it’s not my proudest work but its ok.

Word Count: ~1,000

Hi, for a drabble or fic request (whatever you can do) could you please do a Natasha x Reader where the reader is Tony's half sibling nobody knows about? They show up at the Compound to suprise Tony since he's been wanting to introduce them & Natasha not expecting anyone thinks they're an intruder attacking them but reader defends themselves because they have military training. Tony eventually fixes the misunderstanding. Fluff ensues. Thanks

<keep reading>

The Avengers compound was a looming, terrifying structure. The building lacked your brother's usual flair for including, well, himself. You knew you were welcome here at any point. Every call from your Tony made sure you knew that point. He practically begged you to come visit him and his super pals.

Today you had a day off from work and decided to finally give his offer a try. You had been let in the front gate with one flash of your driver's license. A hole in security you were sure to note to tease Tony about later.

Standing at the front doors you had an overwhelming sensation that you were not where you were supposed to be. A feeling that years in the military did nothing to curb.

A guard opened the sliding glass doors and nodded you in.

“Sorry Mx. Y/N but Mr. Stark is not in right now. The only person in the compound would be Agent Romanoff,”

you smirked at the mention of the famous Black Widow. A rather attractive woman, Tony only ever spoke fondly of.

“That’s ok sir. I’ll just go up and get a jump on introductions. If you would do me a favour and not let Tony know that I’m here I’d prefer to surprise him,”

the guard nodded and handed you a key card that would be your access to the building. You thanked him and headed up the stairs. The feeling of being lost and unsurity returned as soon as you were alone again.

You made your way to what you hoped was the residential portion of the compound. Everything was eerily still. After all the chaos Tony claimed went on it wasn’t at all what you were expecting.

You wandered around searching for a living room or movie room. The guard had told you that Natasha was home and you weren’t quite ready to approach the private rooms in search of her. The faint noise of a tv came from down the hall and you followed it.

When you rounded the door a dark empty room greeted you. The room looked as if it was a movie room. A large flatscreen tv played James Bond while facing towards a couch so large it could comfortably fit 12 people. A ruffled blanket lay half on it while the rest of the couch looked as it had been prepped for a home improvement magazine.

Natasha was nowhere to be seen. You frowned, turning to go look elsewhere when a hand grabbed you. A scream ripped from your throat. You threw your elbow back but you were already on the floor before you could react. Your assaulter straddled your stomach and moved to grab at your arm but years of military training had you moving before you could think.

You ripped it backwards and bucked up your hips, throwing the person forward, occupying their hands. You forced their elbow backwards and locked in their ankle. With a shove they flung underneath you and you were trapped between their legs. You moved to escape again but your skilled assaulter trapped you tight and sat up leveraging your shoulders to wrap their legs around your throat. The one move you could never escape, a triangle. Despite years of training this was the one move any opponent of yours could trap you in and you were doomed to being choked.

You had slumped ready to give into passing out when a hand pulled you backward and unwrapped the legs from around your throat. You gasped and whipped your head around wondering if this new person was friend or foe. The lights were thrown on and you were able to see the scene around you. Tony stood behind you and Bucky stood behind your attacker, Natasha romanoff.

Her eyes were blown, the adrenaline of a fight leaving her breaths ragged. The woman was even more beautiful than any tabloid or picture could show. The thought that moments ago you had lay under her then with her legs around your face had thoughts running through your head you wouldn’t dare admit.

“well little sibling. You seem to have made a quick impression on Romanoff,”

He laughed and offered you a hand. You took it while rolling your eyes.

“Hey, she's the one who attacked me. I just protected myself,”

Natasha shrugged and stood up as well. She brushed her leggings off and looked away from you.

“Sorry about that Miss Romanoff. Nice to meet you in Y/N Stark,”

You reached out a hand and she shook it, still frowning. Tony pushed the group of you towards the movie room and asked the AI names Friday to pause the movie.

“Well that’s a rather unconventional way to introduce you but Avengers, this is Y/N. My little sibling. Y/N meet the Avengers,”

You looked around at the easily recognisable faces. Sam, Wanda, Bucky, Steve, and Clint. They all smiled and gave their own nods of acknowledgment. You smiled back

“Nice to finally meet you all. Tony has told me much more than I’m sure any of you all would want me to know,”

a few of them laughed but most of them stood like a stone wall. They weren’t ready for a newcomer.

“For the love of god you all. Stop. It's my sibling. Sure it would have been better if i could have introduced them over a nice dinner like i thought i was but they dropped in so treat them like anyone else.”

This whole meeting had your skin crawling and you just wanted to leave. Meeting your brother's friends wasn't at all what you were expecting. You felt anxious and small. Natasha was surprisingly the first to speak up.

“Well everyone, I know the mood is shit right now but you heard Tony. We can’t have Y/N thinking we are unfriendly assholes. I was watching a movie and made some popcorn. Let’s get on with it,”

Natasha sat up and the rest of the group grumbled but moved. You stood, ready to help, but Natasha pushed you back down. A friendly smile was on her face.

“I’m sorry about them. I sent out an alarm that someone had breached the security and it just sort of set a damper on the mood. They will come around. You just sit here,”

You nodded. You were slightly afraid that they may think you a slacker but you did as Natasha told you anyway.

“It is really nice to meet you Natasha. Tony told me a lot about everyone but i must admit i developed a smal girl crush on you over everyone else,”

she laughed and slid in beside you. Scarily close. When the rest of the team came back they found the two of you chatting away. Bucky made a comment about slackers but a “friendly” punch from Natasha shut him up quickly.

For most of the movie things remained intense. But after a comment on Bonds car the group lightened up. Natasha had moved closer and closer, practically snuggling you by the end. You blushed scarlet but the lack of lights hid it.

Tony had caught the two of you and cocked an eyebrow. You just shrugged back. She had done it on her own accord and you weren’t about to complain.

After the movie ended everyone went back to their rooms, the atmosphere significantly friendlier.

“Well I’m sorry meeting my friends went that way Y/N. I’m planning on having a nice dinner tomorrow so maybe it’ll be like a restart,”

you caught the eye of natasha who was waiting to show you to your room and you smiled.

“Actually I think things went significantly better than I ever expected.”

[fwkei]

Time.

Kazutora x fem!reader (angst/fluff)

CW/TW: Mentions of suicide, (slight) mention of starvation.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VALHALLA ARC

Note! Explanation of story at end just incase you’re confused also i apologize for mistakes, i did not read this over. 🙆🏻‍♀️

WC: 3.4k

--------------------------------------

You sat at the edge of your seat. Watching the clock above your teacher's head ever so closely. 

“When you want to find the common di-” 

Suddenly the bell rang, interrupting your teacher from his final words. 

“Oh my bad, guess I lost track of time, anyways please remember to study for your quiz on Monday! I know it's a weekend, but save some time for academics!” said your teacher as your classmates packed up their stuff to leave. 

Today was Friday, meaning it was the day you get to visit Kazutora at juvie for the first time after Keisuke's death, and your attempt. It was 3:30, and visiting hours started at 4 to 5 every Friday for inmates. Running to the metro takes about 5-7 minutes, and walking from the station to the actual juvie takes about 20 minutes, while the ride lasts up to 10, meaning you should arrive there at around 4:10. And there's no time to waste. 

You ran out of class, ignoring your fellow classmates goodbyes. You held your book bag tight as you ran fast to the Tokyo station. Seeing you arrived just on time you jumped in just before the 3:30 o'clock train leaves to a different side of the district where Kazutora is being held. You held onto the rail beside you to keep yourself steady as the train started to move . 

You felt scared but happy to see Kazutora. He most probably didn't know you would be coming, he probably thought you would at most write letters to him, like before, but again...Kazutora believes that you hate him now. You didn't know what you were going to say to him. Draken told you that he already visited him while you were in psychiatric hold for a bit, and he told you that Kazutora was planning on killing himself. Draken did not specify if he told Kazutora about your own attempt but you didn't worry too much because you were healing, and you now had hope.  

Your heart was racing, as the train came to a stop. As the doors opened you ran, and fast. Dodging people to not hurt them and almost stepping on things you shouldn’t be stepping on. You checked the time to see it was 4:01, and you still had about 10 minutes worth of walking/running to cover. 

You were breathing heavily when the Juvenile building came into view. You checked the time again to see it was 4:11. You jogged to the doors of the building despite the fact that your thighs were burning from the amount of cardio you had just done. 

It's all worth it. 

You thought to yourself opening the doors. 

Kazutora sat on the bed of his bland and colorless cell. He signed as he looked up at the ceiling light before turning his position to look at the side of the wall. He held his pillow tight. He knew it was visiting day, and his heart was anxious despite the fact that others had already been called to see their visitors, and there was still no call for him. He didn't even expect any visitors.

Kazutora didn't know if he wanted to see you or not. He’s spent so much time alone in his cell thinking. He wondered if you had figured out the other reason for him stabbing his best friend, you could read people, but he knew you had a hard time reading him. He felt his heart ache. He was scared of the karma that would hit him because of it. Maybe not even Karma, but just some sort of punishment, for causing pain to the soul that cared for him so much, and for not being there for that soul when she needed it the most. Which... ultimately lead to your attempt, which Draken told him about during his visit. He shut his eyes as he remembered Draken's words. 

“I don’t wanna hear you say there is no point anymore. Because there is, and it’s kinda frustrating and irritating how you can’t see it even though it’s right there. She’s in psychiatric hold right now because she was close to ending her own life. After Baji died, and you were taken away, Y/n couldn't take it anymore, and no one could see it because she just...she just kept it in, like you do. She was going to die on Baji’s birthday if I wasn’t there to make her throw up the pills she took. Her and I may not be blood related siblings, but I know she’s been through a lot and has always gotten over it just fine, you know that...but this time...I got really fucking scared.”

Kazutora felt his heart drop to fucking hell at Draken’s words. He felt his breathing stop as his mouth parted.

“I know you love her, I'm not sure in what way but I could care less about that. I know, Kazutora. All those times you came crying to the brothel, crying into her arms, begging for some type of help and she helped you, lended you her body for you to cry on, I’d hear all of it. I know you’re hurting, but if you go, I don't think she will be able to live with herself. She’ll blame herself for not being there for you like she’s always been. Do you understand?”

He felt his body throb from literal physical pain. Kazutora was feeling and getting the punishment he deserved right then and there. 

“You owe it to her, whether you like it or not, to stay alive because she's doing the same for you. And once you’re out of here, you should finally grow up. Let her cry into your arms for once. She’s your best friend, right? Because she deserves for those efforts to be reciprocated. And you deserve to see what she’s gone through because of everything that happened. Take care, Kazutora.” 

Kazutora was lost in his own mind, to the point where he couldn't even register that one of the guards was calling his name from the cell door.

“Hm? I’m sorry I wasn't...uh, paying attention. What did you say?” he asked sitting up nervously 

“You got a visitor, kid. C’mon get up.” said the man unlocking his cell 

“A- visitor?” he said quietly getting up from his bed with shocked eyes 

It was already 4:15. Kazutora grew anxious at who his visitor could be. He was sure it wasn't you, your school is too far for you to make it here in time. There would only be a couple minutes to spare if you did try. Could it be Draken wanting to give him a word of advice? Or maybe Chifuyu.. Maybe Mikey? God, who could it be. It made him feel even more congested and trapped than before.  

As Kazutora walked, he looked down at his feet avoiding people's gazes. He saw the backs of his fellow juvenile delinquents from the side of his eye. His heartbeat became stronger, and he felt it thumbing in his ears. God, he didn't know what to expect. He was just so...frustrated. 

“Here, you have until 5.” said the guard, taking off his hand cuffs. His back was facing you. You grew anxious bringing your hands to rest on your things and skirt, waiting for him to turn around and look at you. You watched as he rubbed his wrists and sat down at the stool still not looking at you. You rubbed your hands together under the table separating you both, as the guard walked away to patrol. Your eyes followed the guard, not even noticing that Kazutora had turned to look at your face. 

Kazutora felt his face get hot at the sight of you. You had a school shirt on, with a dark blue tie and a sweater vest, Your hair tied into a low and messy bun with some of you natural and dyed hairs falling out framing your face. He felt his whole body go warm as you turned your head and gave him a nervous smile as a small blush formed. He didn't know why he was scared to see you, because every time Kazutora had the chance to see you, he instantly felt better, no matter what.

You two, and the other inmates and visitors, were all separated by a piece of plastic with a vent to capture sound better. On the side there was a subsection with an opening to the other side where you could pass things through. Such as notes, toys, hygiene stuff, and extra. You brought your hands to the table holding them.

“Hey...sorry I’m late.” you said as you saw Kazutora snap out of his gaze 

“Oh no I-, please don’t be..” he said waving his hands frantically, clearly nervous

“I had to run about 2 miles to get here..” you laughed trying to not tense up

Kazutora felt… stupid, why would you do that? Just to see him? It just made him even more confused...confused about how he felt towards you. 

“Just to see me? But..why?” he asked without thinking and just speaking, giving a regretful and embarrassed face after asking his question.

“Hm? Oh well it's simple really…” you said bringing your hands to rest in between your thighs on your seat 

“I know that I've told you that I don't like saying these words to people because it sounds like some sort of goodbye but it’s time I grow up from my past, and stop keeping things in..so…it’s because I love you... I thought that was fairly obvious but I don't wanna mess up like I did last time. I want you to know that I do love you and care for you.” you said giving him a closed eyed smile, this made Kazutora realize that you deeply regretted not telling Keisuke that you loved him more often when you two still had time. He felt his heart ache. He felt so guilty and gross.

“So, I’m gonna try and start saying that more often..” you said laughing to break the silence 

Kazutora was still speechless at what you had just said. He couldn’t seem to process it, and he wanted to say it back but for some reason he just couldn’t. He was afraid that something else might slip out. He truly didn't think he was worthy of your love and care. It became quiet. Again.

“I made you a bento box with your favorite things, I made sure to put some extra meat. Cause you always used to ask for that when I would make bentos for study days with you and Keisuke. And don’t worry! It’s allowed and you can have the kitchen hold it for you till you’re ready to eat it for today's dinner, the guards said so. And the container is microwave safe! So you can warm up the entree section. There’s rice and BBQ meat, little octopus shaped sausages and sauce with it! Oh and a salad with sesame dressing on the side, and desert which is just mochi. Every Friday I'll come by, and give you the new bento and you'll just give me back the old one, so that I can wash it and so we don't have to waste stuff.” you said smiling 

Your hand dung into your bag, and you pulled out a wooden bento box sliding it halfway through the subsection, but Kazutora hung his head low. You smiled, trying your best to make things right, as silence grew loud again. 

“I can also bring some mangas for you, I know you like shounen and also horror.. So I can buy some and give them to you so that you aren't bored! This week's shonen jump is good… It’s about a boy who is trying to save his mom, and ends up traveling across lands, with close friends, to get this special potion that will heal her, but I’ll make sure to look for some good horror manga too...I know you like stuff about folk tales, that sound okay?”  

Silence.

After a few minutes you spoke again.

“I decided to let my hair grow out cause I kinda miss having longer hair…There's this really pretty girl in my class who has long blonde hair.. Like Emma’s but longer and more wavy.. What about you? Anything you wanna do to your hair when you get out? I’ll take you to get it done-” 

Silence. 

The time now at 4:40. Kazutora bit his lip out of frustration, refusing to look up at you. 

“Oh! What about I bring over a sudoku book, so you can work on your academics as well! I can teach you how to play, it’s fun once you get the hang of it. Or I can bring just a simple literature book, it’s really up to you, I think both are great.” 

Silence. 

“Maybe markers so you can draw on yourself when you’re bored? I remember you doing that while I would tutor you and Keisuke. I can get big and small ones, and ones with different colors too. Also a sketch book, since you’re really good at drawing.” 

You were met with silence again. You felt your heart ache. Your eyes looked up at the clock and saw it was 4:47. You both were running out of time. About half an hour went by of your speaking, you giving a couple minutes in between waiting for him to speak back, but nothing. You clenched your hands into fists, biting your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands, resting on your thighs. 

You felt a strong feeling in your throat, the feeling you get when you’re about to sob. You were so frustrated, and you were trying to keep a level head. It was hard and you just wanted to fucking cry. 

“I- '' you said before closing your mouth realizing you were about to let out a whine. You didn't wanna cry, you wanted to say something but you were afraid that if you did, it would just come out as a sob.  

“I know it’s hard on you-” you said holding back your sobs while still looking down at your hands, letting your hairs cover your face 

“If you don’t want me here, I promise- that I’m fine with that...but~” you said in between pauses keeping your sobs in, but your last word came out shaky making Kazutora shoot his head to see you about to cry. 

He felt his heart ache once again. 

 “But please….jus-just say something. Anything. At least acknowledge that I'm here.” you cried quietly while tensing up your shoulders 

Kazutora frowned. This was his punishment. Seeing you cry, and not being able to hold and comfort you like he desperately wanted to. He opened his mouth, but closed it soon after when nothing came out. Not even a squeak, or whine, or breath. 

“I-”

You heard him say. You looked up with tears in your eyes seeing his face of desperation. 

Kazutora wanted to speak so badly, there were so many thoughts in his head he just could not push one out of his mouth, and he was afraid he might say something he would regret. He wanted to respond to everything you asked him, add commentary, tell you that you looked pretty today, say thank you for the food you made him. Tell you to not waste your tears on someone like him. Say sorry for making you feel uncomfortable because of his silence. God he just- 

“I love you-” he choked up and said in a louder tone causing your eyes to widen and mouth to part from shock at his sudden outburst.

He was avoiding your eyes as he spoke. 

“I- thank you, thank you so much for the food! Really! And I would really love whatever and everything you bring me.” he said, quieting down towards the end.  

“I...can’t put my thoughts into words… and I don’t wanna say something I’d regret. All this time I’ve just been lost in my own mind. I just want you to know that..that I really am in- that I really appreciate you. I want you..to be here, and I’m so...sorry for making you cry.” he said in between pauses of frustration and embarrassment 

You felt your body get warm, your heart beat was strong and you could feel it in your finger tips and temples. You opened your mouth to say something before Kazutora spoke again. 

“I..wanted to.. Wanted to help you...in just some way...after seeing you cry for the first time...with Baji in your arms….I shouldn't have stabbed Baji...I took the person you loved more than anything...away from you.. Because I was j- because I was so stupid, and still am. Even when you’ve done...so fucking much for me...I- and I took him from you...I just don’t get it… how can you have any empathy towards me anymore.. It doesn't make sense. I took so much from you… I killed Shinchiro, and I killed Baji. You loved them both...Mikey loved them both, why do..why do you even have any feeling towards me?” he said looking into your eyes with tears   

Your eyes softened at him. You took a small breath before saying-

“I thought I already told you why, Kazutora. I love you.” 

Kazutora felt a tear run down his cheek. He knew how much thought came behind those simple words. 

“I don’t need a reason to love you. Just like I don't need a reason to be hungry. It’s just there, and will continue to be there, you know what I mean? Same thing with everyone I love.” you said 

His breath hitched. The time now at 4:52.

“The only difference is I was in love with Keisuke. I still am in love with him. Even though he’s not here anymore. I know you might think I love him and Shinchiro and Mikey because they saved my life and helped me. But I was only so little. I had no concept of it. So was Keisuke. So was Mikey. Keisuke had no reason to come up to little me while I was starving on the ground practically dying. He just did it. He was too young to understand love. You think he understood his feelings for me the second he saw me? Or even with Mikey or Shinchiro. Of course not. They were just focussed on saving my life at the time. We discovered the love that was involved later. Even if it was too late to say anything about it. It took Kei and I about...hmmm..5-7 years maybe...to understand what we felt toward each other specifically. It is different with everyone. The love is just there, it’ll just be understood when the time is right. Like when your hunger just hits you. So when you ask me why I love you, or care for you, or forgive you. I just can’t give you a simple answer, even if I wanted to….because there's so much. Too much.” 

Kazutora understood your words. He really did. It made so much sense to him and he just wanted to scream.

Why? Well.. 

“The time will come where you believe that you're worthy of someone else's love and even your own, and even worth loving someone else yourself. So don’t worry. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Even if it takes all the time in the world, okay?” you said smiling at him leaving him with shocked eyes

“Alright times up! 5 o'clock!” yelled a guard 

“Well, I'll see you next Friday, okay? I’ll bring over some manga, oh! And don't forget the bento!” you said getting up from your seat as Kazutora did the same keeping his hands on the table as the guard came to cuff them 

“Y/n I-I’m…”

No. He can’t say it. He can never ever say it. Why? And say what? 

Because he will never be him. He can never be like him for you, and he was perfect for you. He was the one there for you. He had the time to love you. He was the one. He could never even compete. Not after what he did. Not after the jealousy and envy grew and brewed inside him towards him. He is filthy. Not worthy of your love. Right? 

But someday, he desperately and genuinely wants to allow himself to be loved, and to love. Kazutora will forever be longing for that moment. And when he can love, and allow himself to be loved, he wants it to be with you. 

But till that time comes..

“I’ll...really be looking forward to it.” he said biting back his words and smiling softly 

“Likewise.” you said smiling as you both parted your ways, at least for the time being. 

------------------------------------------

Explanation/note: when i wrote this, i made y/n be a ‘foster’ siblings with Draken and childhood friends with Mikey and Keisuke. << Reason being is because i gave her a backstory where she was neglected and ran away, hence her having a more naturing personality. Y/n and Keisuke were a couple till he died but Kazutora always loved Y/n so it’s a love triangle in a way? I don’t know, but Kazutora grew envious of Keisuke in this ff which ended up being a motive to stabbing him during the fight, to which he later regrets and gets punishment for. Y/n in the story doesn’t know that so that’s why Kazutora can’t accept her love for real because he doesn't know if Y/n will really forgive him after that, and Kazutora won’t be able to learn/accept love till he admits what he did. Holding in that secret, and being in love with Y/n makes him feel frustrated and act out. And obviously time is the theme of this whole story. Kazutora at the end decided to avoid his feelings because the way things are going right now fro the time being for him are fine because he doesn't believe he deserves anything more.  But that can only last for so long, so he’s gambling with his relationship with you. He thinks of it as his punishment for now, not being able to tell you how he really feels, and not being able to comfort you.

ANYWAYS hope you liked it, sorry if it’s confusing. 

[weelittleweasley]

bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @vogueweasley​

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits. 

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice. 

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache. 

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?” 

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.  

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you. 

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble. 

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone. 

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth. 

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone. 

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped. 

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub. 

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?” 

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush. 

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you. 

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to. 

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. 

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?” 

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk. 

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea. 

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss. 

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his. 

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?” 

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Just This Once, Your Ears Only

AO3 link! this is for my anon that just found out about miss d and the pallboys and wanted a fic about it so here you go! I hope y'all enjoy this and apologies for any grammatical errors!

Tag List (form to join): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp,@rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians

-----

Alcina didn’t talk much about her past and that was fine. You always cherished the things that she had told you about her time before Mother Miranda and the cadou. You never pushed her to tell you more than she was comfortable, but when you found that old jazz album in a box your curiosity was piqued. How had she not told you that she used to be in a jazz band called Miss D & the Pallboys? Honestly, you were pretty shocked that Alcina hadn’t told you about this part of her life. So when you brought it to her, your find, she was a bit hostile about it.

“Ali, come on. This is really cool.” You said. “I know you don’t often talk about your past, but I really want to know more about this.”

Alcina sighed, rubbing her temples to ebb away the oncoming headache. “Dear, I’ve already said that I don’t wish to revisit such a trivial time in my life.” Alcina replied.

“But I’ve never heard you sing.” You counter. “I’ve heard you hum, I’ve heard you play the piano, but I’ve never once heard you sing.”

“And I’m afraid you’ll never get the opportunity to. My singing days are long behind me and I’d like to keep it that way.” Alcina replied.

You frowned, but ultimately accepted your defeat. “Alright, Ali, I’m sorry. You win.” For now, at least. Time for Plan B. “Can I visit Karl this week?” You asked.

Alcina groaned. “I am not sure how you became friends with that annoying little imp, but I do need you out of the Castle tomorrow so I suppose you may go and visit him then.” Alcina responded. “However, when you leave, have him escort you home. As much as I despise that man-child, there have been lycans spotted around the village and forest more so than usual in the evening, so you’ll be safe with that little idiot by your side.”

You gave her a smile and nod as you did an internal happy dance. “I will call him now to let him know. I’ll even throw in a little threat so he knows you’re serious, Ali.” You teased. Alcina snorted at that. “Alcina?” She hummed in acknowledgment. “Have you ever tried to say something nice about Karl or even tried to be a little bit nicer to him?” You asked.

Alcina looked up at you. “When that insufferable idiot is nicer to me then I shall repay him in kind. Until then, if he keeps calling me lady super sized bitch, I will continue to refer to him as a child. Although, he really is a child regardless of what affectionate nicknames he has for our so called family.” Alcina replied. “But Heisenberg being nice to me will never happen in a million years.”

"Are you willing to bet on that?" You asked. Alcina whirled her eyebrow at you. "If Karl does something nice for you then you have to sing one of your jazz songs for me."

"And if he doesn't?" Alcina asked.

"Then you get whatever you want from me." You replied.

Alcina hummed. "And if I want you chained to my bed all day to do with as I please, I can have that?" You nodded your head. "Then I believe we have a bet on our hands, dear."

You gave her a nervous smile before excusing yourself from her study. After you left, you made your way to your own study. The thought of it made you smile. Alcina had realised that you didn’t have a room in the castle to call your own, so she allowed you to remake one of them into your own, so to speak. It was still decorated the way Alcina had, but now it had more of your things in it to keep you occupied if Alcina went out for a meeting or if you just needed a quiet space to be in.

The first thing you did upon entering your study was call Karl. You let him know that you’d be over early and you even mentioned the bet you had going on with Alcina. “Lady Super Sized Bitch is going down.” were his exact words and they made you laugh. After you said goodbye to him, you called Donna and asked her if she could sew some costumes up for you, the girls, and Karl. You were glad that she had agreed and accepted your invitation to Jazz Friday as opposed to Opera Wednesday. This week’s meeting had been moved from Friday to Wednesday so Opera Night had been moved to Friday. You really hoped that Alcina wouldn’t mind you hijacking her night with your plan and with only five days to get it all planned, you really didn’t have time to work yourself into a tizzy with worrying.

You spent the next day with Karl, telling him what instruments you’d need him to produce for the show. With that taken care of, you could talk to the girls about the surprise and the parts that they’d play for Jazz Night. You made sure all of the Lords had an invitation for Friday. You would’ve invited Mother Miranda, but she was out of the village on business. You were nervous when Friday finally came, making sure everything was perfect.

“Hey, kiddo, don’t worry. Alci’s gonna love it.” Karl said as he fussed over his tuxedo.

You let out a deep breath and smiled at him. “Of course. Or at least I hope she does.” You replied. You held the microphone in your hand when you heard Alcina’s voice.

“Donna, Moreau, it’s a pleasure to have you two with us tonight. I see Heisenberg has failed to join us for another evening.” That made Karl scowl. “Nevertheless, the show must go on. My wonderful daughters and my lovely partner, Y/N, have prepared something special for us tonight. So please sit back and enjoy the show.” Alcina said, finishing off her speech before sitting in her seat.

A couple of maids opened the curtain and you could hear the small gasp Alcina let out, your face starting to heat up. You’d had Karl make a saxophone for Bela, a piano for Cassandra that she could comfortably sit at, a cello for Daniela, and a trumpet for himself. Whilst Donna made tuxedos for all of you. The girls and Karl wore black tuxedos with white dress shirts, the only difference being that the girls had their gemstones on the collar of their shirts and Karl’s didn’t. Your tuxedo was white and you had a hat on with a feather like the one Alcina wore on the cover of the Miss D & the Pallboys album. You managed to not let your nerves get to you as you sang a Nat King Cole classic, Unforgettable. When the performance was over the five of you bowed before the curtain closed.

“Y/N, that was amazing!” Bela said. “I think I saw Mother tearing up out there so I’d say that she loved the performance!”

You scratched at the back of your head, laughing nervously. “Really? I just wish we could’ve sung a Miss D & the Pallboys original for her too, but you can’t go wrong with a classic like Unforgettable.” You replied. “Now you three go get changed, you still have to do that Italian opera piece your mother picked out for you.”

Daniela gave you a hug. “Thank you for putting this together.” Daniela said into your ear.

Cassandra gave you a smile. “And we completely understand if you want to skip the rest of the show. Putting together something like this sounds very tiring.” You nodded your head before wishing them good luck.

The rest of the night was purely opera, but you didn’t have it in yourself to join the others back out in the audience while the girls did their performance. So you had made your way back to the room that you shared with Alcina, putting on your pyjamas and curling up into bed with a book. And that’s how Alcina found you, except you were almost half asleep with the book lying across your stomach.

“Darling?” Alcina called out softly, rousing you from your sleep. You hummed in acknowledgment to let her know you were still with her. Alcina took that opportunity to put on her nightgown before slipping into the bed next to you, pulling you into her side. “Did you put together that whole thing just for me?” Alcina asked.

You nodded. “I did. Not alone though. Karl and Donna really helped out. And Moreau was the one that recommended the song I sang, Mother Miranda bless him for the suggestion.” You mumbled out slightly before yawning.

Alcina pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, My Love. Now, I do believe I lost a bet so I’ll give you your reward, yes?” You sleepily nodded your head against her side. “Alright, little one, but just this once and for your ears only. And only because you got that idiot oaf to do something nice for me.” Alcina said.

“Be nice, Ali.” You mumbled again, smiling at the grumbling noises that Alcina made at your words but you could faintly make out her saying “Fine,” before you let out a hum of approval.

After a few seconds of silence, you heard Alcina start to sing the words to a song you didn’t know. You could only assume that it was one of the songs she sang with her band and you smiled. Alcina really did have a beautiful singing voice.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

helloooooo Jim anon here!! Sorry for disappearing!! I was just feeling very lazy to write a headcanon but I’m back with another one!!

Okay so we all watched the movie and in the span of 90mins, we managed to see Jim get hit in the face not once but twice!!

Anyway it’s gonna be a bit of a silly headcanon today but here we go:

The kids were with their mom, it was Friday night. So Jim and you decided to go to a lovely little restaurant and enjoy a night out, just the two of you.

After dinner, you decide to take a walk downtown. You’re chatting about a bit everything, laughing at Jim’s joke when you hear a very…inappropriate comment.

Obviously because it was a date night, you dressed up and some jerk had to voice his opinion.

You were going to brush it off, keep walking because you just didn’t want to ruin your evening with your man. Maybe you would have dealt with it on a more random night but as I said, you were having a great time and you didn’t want some silly teenager ruin it.

But Jim stopped.

And you see, Jim is far from the “fighter” type of boyfriend. It’s really not a critic or a bad thing but he’s a pretty chill guy who gets angry like…once a year.

He’s also a man who has some ego—not a lot but still. And a part of him kind of wants you to feel safe with him. So he decides (well it’s more impulsive than a thought-through decision) to show that guy that he can’t speak so badly of you, especially not in front of him.

You’re trying to get Jim to leave. It’s okay, you’re used to these kinds of remarks.

But he’s not backing down.

And of course, the situation gets worse. Jim says something that really pisses off the guy.

His arm swings and just hits Jim, right in the jaw.

You threaten to call the cops and the guy finally leaves. You check on Jim and of course, he’s going to get a pretty ugly bruise soon.

You quickly go back home, thankfully you weren’t too far.

Jim is in so much pain. But worse, he feels like a complete fool. He’s so embarrassed and all he wants is for you to feel safe by his side.

You bring him some ice for his jaw, gently applying the cold pack. You’re pushing the hair off his face, trying to soothe him.

When you ask him if he’s okay, he ends up apologizing. Firstly because he fears he may have ruined the night and secondly because he couldn’t defend you properly.

I feel like even though Jim isn’t a particularly insecure person, he’d still have his doubts. He’s aware your relationship is a bit unusual because of the age gap and he wants to give everything a guy your age would give you. And he tends to do impulsive things like that.

You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, you’re just glad he’s okay. He kind of also admits that he wanted to protect you and he feels a bit shitty he couldn’t which is really sweet in itself. You assure him he doesn’t need to do that. You don’t need him to defend you but hey you’re glad he’s willing to risk taking a punch in the face for you. That’s kinda romantic, isn’t it?

You try to laugh it out, lighten the mood which really helps. Last thing Jim needs is to feel like you’re disappointed or upset because of him.

Anyway, you make sure he keeps the ice on his jaw and put some arnica cream to help him heal. And you even kiss his bruised skin, gently of course, promising him you have magic powers.

And yeah I just think Jim is the kind to get into a fight even though he’ll end up getting beaten up in 99% of cases.

Oh and I think I mentioned this before but I would actually love if you told me headcanons you have so we can discuss and all (I may have a lot of ideas, I’m afraid I might run out at some point) so if you have a headcanon idea, I’d love to write what I think of it!!

I hope you’re doing great bye and I’ll talk to you soon! :)

HAIII AGAIN! And its okay, I know the feeling all too well 😭

I think I'm even more in love with Jim after this. Also, huge agree that Jim isn't the "get into a fight type" but he's a teensy tiny bit old fashioned and wants to defend (and impress) you.

I loved this soooo much! Poor guy gets beaten up but he doesn't need to feel bad because you wouldn't dream of making a thing of it and you just wanna make him feel better after everything.

And I'm pretty sure you mentioned but alas I have soup brain. Though, I'll try to cook up something now. Its under the cut so this doesn't get infuriatingly long for someone scrolling through the tags lol

So, we've talked about you taking care of Jim (which is always so adorable) but what about Jim taking care of you?

Maybe you've had a long day at work or just bad day/week in general. Maybe things have just been busy and now you're exhausted.

Now, you don't wanna worry him, because he's already got so much going on with work and his kids, so instead of saying something, you keep pushing through and going about your life. Jim notices though, he knows you well and pays enough attention to catch the little changes in your behavior- and it hurts, and worries, him to see you like that.

But nonetheless, he tries to give you a bit of space. In part because he gets that sometimes people need time to themselves and because he truly believes that you'll come to him if you need to talk or just be together.

His resistence thins quickly though, because he loves you so much and its really eating him up to see you like this. So one evening, he takes some initiative. We've already established that he's not great in the kitchen, but he does know how to order your favorite take out and crack open a bottle of wine that pairs well with it (if you don't drink then no worries, y'all are having something else).

When you get home, the whole thing is already set up; the lights are dimmed low, the wine is breathing, the food is ready and your comfort movie is waiting for someone to hit "play". You're pleasantly surprised and even though you keep saying that he didn't have to go through the trouble, you both know that a night to unwind was necessary. Besides, Jim genuinely does not think it was any trouble at all, he loves taking care of you and will do anything to put a smile on your face.

After a nice, cozy dinner, you two cuddle and finish the movie. He insists on clearing the dishes himself, and when that's through, he tells you that he has one more suprise left and leads you to the bathroom where he's got the tub set up and ready to go. He really went all out; the water is just the temperature you like, he's used some of those essential oils you like and there's just enough soap in there to make suds gather around the edges as well as in the center. He's also turned the lights down and has strategically placed some scented candles around the space to give it the most magical glow.

Though his original plan was to have you unwind in there alone while he takes care of you from the outside, you manage to convince him to get in with you. "Convince", however, may be a strong word because how can he say no when you just want to be close to him?

So he gets in, helping you get cozy against his chest so he can massage your shoulders and just hold you and such. You've honestly never felt this pampered.

You two must have stayed in there until a while after the water started losing its warmth because its so comfortable. But when notices when you start dozing off, Jim gently coaxes into deserting the tub so you both can get rinsed off.

Flashforward to not very long after, you're both under the covers, in a tangle of limbs; one of your arms is thrown over his stomach, a leg is hooked over his hip and your head is on his chest, while Jim has one arm holding you close as the other hand traces soothing patterns in your arm. By now, you're drifting off again, and your awful week feels lightyears away. You mumble a soft thanks, which is largely incoherent, and Jim's only response is a drowsy "I love you" and "goodnight" coupled with a chaste kiss which he presses to the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

***

Can you tell I'm a rambler by the way I write? Probably.

But anyway; take care and hope we talk soon!

[e-spits]

latched on - lee juyeon

words: 4.8k

genre: smut

warnings yandere!juyeon, dubious consent, knives, all around filth

The pressure balancing college and a social life was difficult. Classes were long and overbearing, the workload heavy to carry and parties or events were almost impossible to fit into your schedule. You rarely attended any social events, rarely met up with anyone aside your roommate if it weren’t to study in a café. And meeting new people was essentially a no go. Your roommate had tried tirelessly to get you out of your tight shell, dragging you to different parties but even when she was successful, you mind was absent. Too worried about the commitments you were neglecting. You did try to engage but what was important was getting through college though it didn’t stop your friend from trying.

On one Friday night, your roommate had selected a particularly rowdy party for you to attend. She smothered you in the dorm, soothing over your complexion with makeup and applying bright colours to your skin. You knew you didn’t dress up much but with the effort she was making, you knew her intentions were less than pure. It was too much effort to fight back and so you allowed it, even letting her loan you a strapless, skin-tight dress that blinded you with its red colour. Your roommate stood back, admiring her handy work, and grinning from ear to ear.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You mumbled, turning to examine your reflection in the mirror, eyes skimming over your own figure as though it were a mannequin. You did look nice but why. ‘What’s it for?’ You finally asked.  

Your roommate giggled below her breathe.

‘What?’

‘Don’t be mad.’ She continued, wandering over and placing her hands on your shoulders.

‘About?’

‘So, there’s this really hot guy in my class and I figured, you know since I’m already dating someone, maybe you could go for it. We both know you should.’

Your eyes narrowed toward the other girl, hands hitching themselves on your hips. ‘How cute?’

‘Like, fucking hot, okay, trust me.’ She nodded frantically, your stomach tightening. ‘Besides, it’ll be a step up from that stalker of yours.’ Your roommate laughed loudly, nausea filling your gut at the mere mention of the stalker, the so-called, not so secret admirer.

Three months ago, a letter had arrived at your doorstep. It was in ink of your favourite colour, the words like artwork or poetry. The writer had noted all the things they claimed to love about you, all the things they had noticed while watching you around campus. It was juvenile, strange but sweet, just a secret admirer like you imagined lots of people had. And then they became more frequent. Every few days another letter would appear outside your dorm room, full of more romantic rambling that made you only slightly uncomfortable at the time.

And then came the wave of presents, the many, many presents. Flowers, chocolates, clothes, brand new textbooks you’d been eyeing at the campus shop. It was then you knew you were being watched, surveyed, and documented. Your roommate found it hilarious, sharing your abundance of gifts and noting how even her boyfriend didn’t do this for her. A part of you liked being admired, liked the attention and romantic writings that came with being observed. However, the thrill of it dissipated when gradually, it became more intense.

The letters became several pages long, the handwriting descending into scribbles. And the longer they became the more descriptive, more explicit they were. You began not reading them, skimming the filthy intentions the writer had with a casual eye before throwing them out. Giving the presents to your roommate instead of indulging them. It all seemed like a prank, some kind of joke someone was playing, not an admirer at all. Your roommate insisted it was likely a horny, frat boy, obsessing over conquering a girl who had no interest in being conquered though it felt like more. The words eventually became heavier, threats beginning to soak in as the writer laid out their violent plans. You didn’t show anyone those letter, you didn’t want anyone to worry and so you carried it all by yourself.

This boy would probably be a step up.

The house was large, full of people and booming with music. All it made you think was how you’d rather be home, in pyjamas, watching sitcoms and studying. Your roommate shimmied you into the building, holding your hand as she pushed you through the crowds. Bodies brushed against your bare thighs as you picked up a couple drinks and eventually you made it to a particularly quiet stop in the corner couch of the lounge. You found yourself surveying the crowds, eyes clinging to each male face, wondering which one was the one your roommate had mentioned. And if maybe, your stalker was also here, hiding between the faces in the hubbub.

Your roommate nudged your ribcage, mumbling something beneath her breath before her eyes lit up, mouth spread in a wild grin.

‘He’s here?’

She merely gestured her head forward, yours following the motion. At first, you couldn’t see him but then through the huddle of people, one was clearly approaching. His face was warm, eyes bright, his smile so dazzling you couldn’t see anything else. Your friend was right, he was hot, insanely so but you still couldn’t pay attention fully. You were too busy being afraid your stalker may see you with someone else and carry out those plans he’d detailed.

The boy wandered over to you and your friend, pushing in and sitting between you two. Your roommate laughed lightly, giving you a certain look before she stood up from the couch. She wiggled her eyebrows at the boy and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you all alone. You looked over at him, his figure only inches from you, his expression covered in even more worry than yours.

‘Hi.’ You finally broke the silence.

‘Um, hi. I hope you don’t mind this, it’s just, your friend mentioned she wanted me to meet you, and I, I can see why.’

Your cheeks burnt. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’

‘Cool,’ he was grinning wildly, ‘I just, I think I’ve seen you around campus before, I don’t think I could forget anyone as gorgeous as you.’

A chuckle passed your lips, the boy taking a sip from his own drink as you did from yours. The thick, hot liquid rolled down your throat, worry beginning to subside the more drink you gulped.

‘I’m Juyeon, by the way.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Juyeon.’

Though earlier you were wishing to go home, now all you wanted to do was sit in the crowded room and talk to this boy all night. Wishing everyone else could leave so you could hear every inflection in his honied voice. The more words that poured from his mouth, the more you forgot about the comfort of your dorm, instead, all your focus was on him. Juyeon charmed you relentlessly, dousing you in compliments but underneath the obvious flirting, he had substance. He spoke eloquently, voice soft and polite no matter what he said. He clearly knew a lot about the things he spoke of, which only made you more enthused to talk to him.

The party rolled on as did your conversation, Juyeon inching closer to you as his confidence settled in. While he was lovely and beautiful, you still didn’t want to engage in hooking up at a party, only to never see someone again. You knew boys all too well, they were charming when they were or weren’t interested and you hated the thought of the latter. With each subtle move he made, you slid away, wishing you could speak candidly without the distraction of his lips. You wanted him to kiss you, but you didn’t want him to be disappointed.

His hand reached over and smoothed over yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand. The warmth he emitted was intoxicating and it took everything not to melt into it. Juyeon was unfazed as though he hadn’t noticed your reservations at all, still moving in dangerously close. His mouth was only an inch or so from yours, his hot breath fanning your blushed cheeks. Your eyes closed for a moment, considering allowing contact to be made but as you felt acceptance greet you, a voice interrupted. Your roommate stood in front of the couch; eyes wide as she visibly regretted interrupting.

‘I’m sorry, I just, I wanted to check in, I’m pretty fucking tired if I’m being honest.’ She chuckled, smile dissipating quickly as she folded her arms.

Juyeon remained silent, sinking back into his original position while gulping down the rest of his drink.

‘It’s fine,’ you turned to the boy beside you, ‘it was really nice meeting you Juyeon, I, um, I’ll see around.’

He said nothing, leaving you to stand up and wander off in silence, taking your roommate’s hand and letting her guide you outside. You began meandering through the dark streets, your friend beginning to laugh hysterically.

‘God, I’m so sorry, you just, and he,’ she cut herself off with a loud giggle.

‘Shut up!’ You laughed back.

‘He was so mad.’

‘I think he was just annoyed he didn’t get any, it’s fine honestly. Besides, he’s so hot he can be mad if he wants.’ You giggled, wrapping your arm around your friend as you continued your way home.

‘Wait, are you whipped for someone? After one night, what’s gotten into you.’ She tilted her head down, eyes wide toward you as you found yourself smiling nonchalantly.

‘No, not him, thanks to you.’ She sighed as you spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled dramatically, ‘there are other parties you can fuck at, don’t worry. Now, hurry up, I’m so tired.’

The dorm was silent when you arrived, darkness swirling around the space. Your roommate quickly dived into her bed, falling asleep almost immediately leaving you to roam your thoughts. As you did, you felt a little relieved the moment had been interrupted, that way, Juyeon might still be interested. Instead of being disappointed or bored, he know had to continue the chase and that meant he definitely would want to see you again. You smiled to yourself, cheeks hot at just the thought of the boy you’d spent hours talking to. Sleep eventually overwhelmed you, eyes heavy as you curled up in bed, still in your dress and fell asleep.

It was still night when your eyes were shocked open, a cold, metal sensation running over your neck. Pressure appeared upon the warm skin, your eyes wildly searching the room before you realised what was happening. Someone was kneeling against your arms, their legs either side of your torso though the room was so dark you couldn’t make out their face. You wriggled underneath the weight, but it was pointless. Your head snapped toward your roommate’s bed, it was empty, duvet thrown on the floor in a heap. Where was she? What was happening? A knife was pressed against your throat, the sharp metal grazing the sensitive skin.

‘Please, please don’t.’ You cried out, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks and splash onto the pillows beneath.

The figure above shifted slightly, their free hand reaching over and switching on your lamp. A yellow light danced across the room, your eyes adjusting quickly before realising who was threatening you. Juyeon. The same gummy smile, the same honey skin, the same big, bright eyes but now they were much darker. Something had consumed him, something dark.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, don’t worry. I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t.’ Juyeon dragged the thick blade down your neck, letting it sit on your collarbone.

‘What’s happening, where’s my roommate?’

‘She’s fine,’ he rolled his eyes, ‘I just had to get her out of here, can’t have her interrupting again. Not when I, not when I got so, so close.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You cried.

‘Yes, you do.’ Juyeon smiled menacingly, pushing the knife into your skin ever so slightly. You could feel a droplet of blood roll down your neck, a tinge of pain rolling through your body.

His words didn’t make sense for a few moments, your mind racing through every word he’d said earlier in the night. He’d been so nice, so eloquent, so charming, and now he was so angry, so scary, so threatening. Just like your admirer. Just like your admirer… And then it dawned on you, Juyeon was your admirer, your stalker. It suddenly made so much sense, his entire demeanour created to lure you in, just like the letters and gifts had been.

‘It was you.’ You uttered in defeat, head sinking into the pillow as you gave in. Juyeon laughed, his smile transforming into a wild grin.

‘You were lovely last night, it was lovely. God, I couldn’t have planned for it better, we just, we clicked. If it hadn’t have been for that bitch of a roommate, fuck, all the things we would’ve done. We’d still be fucking now. But it’s okay, now I know you like me back, we can be together.’

‘You’re hurting me.’ You mumbled, trying to wriggle your neck away from the knife. Juyeon tilted his head, his free hand brushing through your locks, twisting around the hair softly. His fingers began stroking your face, travelling across to where the knife had nicked your skin. Another drop fell onto his thumb, the digit raising as he placed it in his mouth. Juyeon closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the metallic taste before he leant down.

You could feel his hot breath over your face, his mouth only inches from yours. The cool metal of the knife disappeared from your throat, Juyeon leaning down and replacing the sharp blade with his lips. His mouth wrapped around the small wound, tongue soothing over the skin. You closed your eyes tightly, beginning to try and move when he became distracted. Lifting your arms, you began trying to push the man away though it didn’t take long for him to notice. His lips left your body, sighing as he realised you were still trying to get away.

‘Hey, hey, you liked me earlier. Why it that different now? Now you know that I’ve loved you for months, it should be better, right? You know how much I want you. Don’t you?’

Your stomach tightened, realising there was no way out, you began to listen to him seriously. Juyeon had certainly showed he cared, and he was okay earlier, he was lovely earlier. That part of him had to be in there somewhere, maybe if you went along with his actions, that part of him would come back. Perhaps you could draw it out. You let out a deep breath, staring up at the boy knelt atop your arms.

‘I know,’ you mumbled, nodding, ‘I know.’

His mouth began leaning down again, yours leaving the pillow to meet his lips. Juyeon let his mouth press onto you strongly, engulfing you in the kiss before deepening it. You did nothing to fight back instead closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the touches.

It felt wrong that you were allowing him to do such a thing so tentatively, especially when he’d done nothing to deserve it. But when Juyeon forced his tongue into your mouth and let the muscle explore your wet skin, it was impossible not to give in. Your head tilted back in pleasure, the boy suddenly pulling away and immediately attacking your neck with kisses and small bites. He did this for a few minutes, his body becoming so entranced in the motions that he let your arms out from beneath him. However, you found yourself motionless still, eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of Juyeon nibbling at your neck.

The boy moved down your body, lips staying on your skin, as they travelled to your chest. Juyeon poked his tongue out, licking at the skin closest to your covered breasts before he looked up at you. His eyebrows furrowed together, body lifting as he peered down to your free hands then back up to your face. After a moment, you noticed he was no longer touching you and opened your eyes. Juyeon was hovering above you once more, face tightened in thought before he grabbed your hands again. His grip was harsh, like it had been with the knife, which he’d long ago forgotten. You tried to wriggle away from instinct but found it impossible beneath his strength, instead having your wrists moved to above your head. For a moment, you thought he was returning to how he’d been, however when he began tying your wrist to the bedpost, you knew he wasn’t quite there yet.

You were unsure where he’d gotten the tie but assumed he’d brought them along with him. Perhaps he’d expected you to fight it more, but he already had a certain control you didn’t understand.

After tugging on the tie, you realised quickly that you were trapped in place. Juyeon, still hovering above you, smiled widely, admiring his handy work.

‘There, we don’t have to worry about you going anywhere now.’ He said, still grinning.

‘I wouldn’t have gone anywhere.’

‘I know princess,’ Juyeon let his finger caress your cheek, moving down until it reach the neckline of your dress. ‘I just have to make sure, until I know how good you are. Because I know you can be a good girl, can’t you?’

You nodded frantically, pushing your chest up into his touch. Juyeon continued grinning, encouraged by your movements. He unzipped your dress, pulling the material down until it was thrown to the floor. The boy straddled your naked body, looking down at your figure as his hands continued their journey downward. Fingertips burning circles into your cleavage and stomach until they stopped just above the hem of your panties. He hesitated for a moment.

‘Say yes.’ He whispered almost silently as you remembered all the times you’d read those words in the letters he’d written. Say yes to him, in every way. And though you never imagined you’d be doing it, the word poured from parted lips almost instinctively.

Juyeon was spurred on, his mind suddenly clearer than it had been all night. You looked down at the boy as he trailed the underwear over your legs, chuckling when he noticed the wet patch in the centre. Juyeon sat over your calves, leaning down until his face was equal with your core. A whimper left your mouth, floating into the air as suddenly, you felt lips wrap around your already sensitive clit. You choked out a moan as Juyeon pushed further in your heat, mouth moving up and down, the muscle prodding your entrance. More squeals came from your lips, stomach tightening as you pushed your core up into his mouth. His tongue continued to work your heat, moving quickly and powerfully until you could feel a coil beginning to form in your loin.

You pushed up further, hoping to cause more friction and find your high. As abruptly as he had begun, Juyeon pulled away, letting you writhe around, helpless. A particularly loud groan bellowed into the room. The boy moved back up your body, leaving kisses on your naked form every so often, the remnants of spit sticking to your skin. He continued until his face was inches above yours, his fingers meeting your bottom lip and pulling your mouth open. Juyeon dropped his forehead against yours, eyes big as a long, pendulum of spit emitted from his mouth. It dangled between your faces, Juyeon holding your lips open until his fluid reached your tongue. The taste of him spreading out over your taste buds, it was the same thick, sweet taste of the drink you’d been gulping at the party. It made you feel closer to him, comforted almost.

Juyeon forced his mouth down on you again, lips mellowing out onto yours in a much sweeter way than before. He continued for a while before lifting up and moving off your body for the first time since you’d awoken. Your chest could finally move better but as soon as you became adjusted, Juyeon grabbed your hips and spun you around. Suddenly, your bare ass was met with cool air, your face pressing into the pillow. Juyeon let his fingers grip you tighter, pulling your hips upward so your back arched and heat was vulnerable to him.

Your face tried to turn back to see what Juyeon was doing, but it was impossible from the angle. Instead, you waited, restless, rocking softly wishing silently that his touch would return. The sound of rustling and shuffling greeted your ears but still no touch. The knowledge that he was likely undressing graced your mind but still no touch. You waited and waited until finally, the warm, hard flesh of Juyeon’s cock brushed against your slick entrance. The member twitched in anticipation before the boy pushed it inside you, the stiff member filling you. Your heat stretched and pulsated, Juyeon remaining motionless for a moment to let you adjust to his size. After a moment, he began thrusting in and out. Slowly at first and then quicker, the pace building and building until your body began rocking with his thrusts. Juyeon held you in place by your hips, his fingertips likely leaving bruised bevelled into your skin.

Juyeon continued his thrusts, the tip of his cock nearly prodding your cervix as he furthered his assault. Your body felt weak and would’ve likely collapsed if it weren’t for Juyeon holding you up.

‘God, this feels even better than I imagined, you’re so tight, so warm. Fuck.’ The boy moaned, deep growls passing his lips as his thrusts burned into your core. You pushed back against his length, allowing it to brush against your g-spot, the walls of your heat twitching at the contact.

The boy let one hand dance onto your back, stopping just between your shoulder blades. He pushed down, your breasts pushed onto the plush duvet, the new position making it much easier for Juyeon to brush against your g-stop again and again. You writhed in pleasure, stomach tight.

‘Don’t you move baby, don’t fucking move.’

Juyeon let his other hand raise high into the air, slamming down against the taunt skin of your ass. Pain sprung out onto the flesh. The boy lifted his hand again, slapping you again, and again and again. Though at first it burnt, the jolts of pain began to add to the mound of pleasure in your loin. Juyeon continued his tirade of slaps, your ass beginning to burn with pain though that only seemed to spur him on. After a few minutes of thrusting and slapping, he swapped hands and began slamming down on your other cheek.

His thrusts became messy, his open palm clamping back down onto your hip to steady himself. Groans fell from his mouth, your back arching to let him hit all the deepest parts of your heat. Another few minutes passed, Juyeon slowly down and then with a particularly guttural moan, he pulled his length from within you. Your core felt empty, cold almost until his hands flipped you over. The tie wrapped around your wrist tightening and digging into your flesh. It burnt, just like your ass still was. Juyeon now looked down on you, kneeling between your legs, naked.

The boy looked like a statue, made in a laboratory. You didn’t understand why he was so enamoured with you, willing to break so many laws and moral barriers to be with you. He must be crazy, he was.

Juyeon leant down, hand on the bedframe to hold himself up. His mouth lowered, lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking on the tender flesh, and letting it bounce back with a pop. A whimper bellowed from your mouth, Juyeon looking up at you with dark, arrogant eyes. He moved up, face hovering above yours, his hard member brushing against your entrance, teasing you. A smile sprouted on his lips, one hand disappeared to stroke his cock up and down your slick entrance.

‘Please…’ You found yourself mumbling absent-mindedly, not even realising what he had done before.

He laughed.

His face moved away from you suddenly, fingers clasping the knife that was sat on your bedside table. Your stomach tightened, Juyeon’s member still on your entrance. Juyeon held the knife forward, pressing the tip against your breast, pushing down slightly. You felt the point dig into your skin, a droplet of blood seeping from the warm flesh. Another small whimper fell from your mouth, Juyeon’s smile growing tenfold.

‘Beg for it.’

‘What?’

‘I said,’ Juyeon ordered, pushing the blade down harder, another drop of blood slithering down your breast. ‘beg for it.’

‘Please. Please.’

‘Please… what?’

‘Please fuck me, Juyeon. I want you to fuck me, please. I want you inside of me again, please, I want you to fill me up.’

Juyeon smiled wide, sliding the knife downward and then pulling it away from your skin. And with one sharp movement, he pushed his length into you, stretching you once more. You both moaned loudly, Juyeon beginning to build his pace again. Hips bucking onto yours. The thrusts became as quick as they were before, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix again, the coil of pleasure tightening in your loin.

Once again, Juyeon lifted the knife and this time pressed it to your throat. The sharp blade slightly scraping your elongated neck, still continuing his thrusts until they became messy again. Juyeon let out several grunts, the sounds roaming the room like music. The boy made sure not to cut you, instead letting you merely feel the threat of danger. He snapped his hips onto yours once more, the pleasure in your stomach burning and finally, unravelling.

A long, feral whimper exploded from your mouth, head tilting back as Juyeon continued to thrust. The feeling of you tightening through your orgasm made his cock twitch, the member releasing its warm liquid into your heat. The warmth of his seed caused another moan to fall from your mouth, Juyeon growling low as he rode out his high. The boy trusted one more time and then let his length slowly fall out of you.

He still held the knife to your throat, hands still clasped around the headboard. You waited for something, for Juyeon to untie you and snuggle up to you in bed. Instead, he knelt above you, knife still on your skin.

‘What are you going to do now?’ You asked as Juyeon looked down at the ground beside your bed. He sighed.

‘I’m going to keep you. I just haven’t decided where.’ The boy uttered as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Only now, you’d let him.

[uwuwriting]

Hurting their best friend/crush w/ Oikawa and Terushima

Request: Oikawa and Terushima the playboy squad y’know, hurting their female best friend and manager with whom they have been in love with for the longest time but are too afraid to make a move. It ends in fluff of course but like maybe their friends are like you messed up man and its a really big fight. thank you. - anonymous 

Playboy squad indeed. I feel like all three of them but mostly Oikawa got their hearts obliterated and that’s why they have adopted that fuckboy persona. These boys just need some real love even though one of them is a rat. Love ya.💖💖💖

rules 

masterlist

warnings: angst to fluff, some cursing

Oikawa Tooru

-It had  been a hard week. 

-Actually a hard year. 

-Oikawa was focused almost solely on volleyball, over doing it many times while you were studying like a maniac.

-Being their manager helped you loosen up.

-Plus it gave you the chance to be with your friend group.

-You had noticed how Oikawa seemed to brush off many of your attempts to hang out, sometimes giving you an excuse to why he couldn’t make while other times ditching you. 

-He hadn’t ditched you many times but it still hurt.

-Knowing that your best friend forgot almost completely of your existence. 

-You had drifted apart the last few months and the only one who noticed apart from you was Iwaizumi. 

-He had seen how he wouldn’t find Oikawa beside you when he came to your lunch table or how you weren’t Oikawa’s first call anymore after a game. 

-It bothered him too. 

-Seeing his two best friends separate like that.

-And Iwa knew you tried to prevent it, he gave you advice on the matter as well.

 -But Oikawa seemed oblivious to the gap that was forming and kept on ignoring you, more and more as time went on. 

-The final straw came when he wouldn’t answer your calls one Saturday evening. 

-It was one of those rare occasions when he had agreed to spend some one on one time with you and you were really excited. 

-You hadn’t seen your best friend for weeks, apart from some small conversations during practice.

-You had been waiting for an hour, the movie you had picked already had started and was now in the second act. 

-If this had happened a few months ago you would have let it slide, made a comment in your group chat and leave it at that but not this time. 

-He had ditched you one too many times and you were sick of it. 

-Making your way to the gym, you were taken aback by the lack of sound coming from inside. 

-You expected to be met with the sound of balls slamming on the opposite wall but nothing, the slamming was replaced by female giggles and a really familiar voice.

-Opening the door slightly you found your best friend being pinned to the court’s floor by one of his fans, her giggles bouncing off the walls as she kissed him. 

-Without a word you left, letting the door slam shut behind you as you walked out of school grounds and straight home. 

-It hurt like hell and you weren’t able to get that image of him pinned to the floor out of your head for the rest of the weekend. 

-He had texted you apologizing for missing your movie night, saying he was practicing late and he got carried away. 

-You answered with a simple okay and didn’t speak to him after that.

-You kept your distance at school, simultaneously avoiding Iwa who knew that Oikawa had done something.

-Volleyball practice was your neutral ground, the only place where you chatted with everyone but still gave him small curt answers. 

-Iwa had had enough of all this so he cornered Oikawa after practice as they were walking home alone, without your normal bubbly presence with them. 

“What the hell did you do to Y/N, Shittykawa?”

“What do you mean? I’m completely innocent.”

“She has been avoiding you like the plague all week and you haven’t even noticed? What the hell happened last Saturday?”

“I didn’t see her...”

“You missed it? Again?”

“It wasn’t my fault! Yui-chan found me at the gym and she kinda jumped on me.”

“You know what’s funny Oikawa? The fact that you claim you love her.”

-That’s why he’s now trying to coax you to open your bedroom door.

- “I’m studying Oikawa leave me alone.”

-His last name leaving your lips hurt, a lot. 

-He had always been Tooru to you or even Shittykawa. 

- “Y/N please, I’m sorry for Saturday I’ll make it up to you!”

-You opened that door then, rage burning in your eyes as you met Oikawa’s pleading face.

 - “Now you care? You have some fucking nerve coming here and giving me some half-assed apology after you ditched me for some chick last Saturday. I don’t need your apologies as much as you don’t need me. So do me the favor and get out of my house.”

-Tooru just stared at you, your words twisting the dagger in his heart. 

-He messed up, he messed up big time. 

- “You saw me with Yui...”

-You were fighting back tears as you looked at him, the sight of your underclassman hovering over him flashing behind your eyelids as you closed your eyes. 

- “Y/N she means nothing I swear, it was nothing, she came at me I-”

- “Why w-would I care what she meant? W-why would I-I care with w-who you make out with?”

- “I care what you think of me!”

-You were full on crying at this point, Tooru shedding his own tears as his fears started clawing their way up his throat. 

-He was losing you.

- “I care what you think of me because I love you. I care what image I create in your pretty mind because I hope that maybe at some point you will look at me in a different light. What I did last Saturday was fucked up and there are no excuses but I’m sorry, I truly am. Please Y/N. I can’t- I can’t lose you. Please....” 

-You wanted to hold onto your anger longer, wanted to truly stay mad at him for more because at the end of the day he deserved it but you couldn’t. 

-You launched yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your sobs became louder. 

-He held you there until your tears ran dry, his arms tight around you as if he was afraid you would slip through his fingers at any moment. 

Terushima Yuuji

-You knew him from middle school. 

-Before the piercings. 

-Before the dyed hair. 

-Before the douchebag attitude. 

-And before the ocean of girls coming and going in his life. 

-It affected your friendship but you managed to survive it. 

-Some girls were just too crazy and possessive, harassing you to leave him alone and that he was theirs.

-Terushima always gave them a glare and a cold “we’re done” before proceeding to hang out with you non stop for a week straight. 

-It was your bro code that no matter what, a relationship would not change who you were to each other. 

-That no one would get in between your friendship. 

-Lucky for you, your love for Yuuji pushed away any potential boyfriends that came waltzing into your life. 

-You are attractive, smart and cute plus you’re funny so many boys tried to go out with you, but you being in love with your best friend prevented you from reciprocating their feelings. 

-Yuuji however changed girlfriends every two days and you were there to witness everything. 

-He came barging in your room every Tuesday and Friday to talk about the new girl that threw herself at him or about the hook up he had during the weekend.

-It hurt you seeing him with others but his short relationships gave you hope that he hadn’t fallen in love yet and that you still had a chance. 

-Then she came. 

-She was a year younger than the two of you and she was the only one that lasted for longer than a week. 

-She knew you two were close and whenever you tagged along with them she was seething with anger. 

-She became territorial to the point that Yuuji should tell her to calm down.

-But he wouldn’t and that let to multiple fights and in the end you two stopped talking to each other. 

-The last straw was during one of his games. 

-You are the manager so you are down at the court with them. 

-Terushima hit the ground really hard after he tried to save the ball and he hurt his shoulder.

 -He was escorted to the bench where you put some ice on his slightly swollen shoulder and wiped away some sweat from his forehead.

-He may have acted like a douche to you but he was still your best friend and you loved him so you couldn’t be cold to him for too long.  

-His girl lost her shit. 

-After the game she started yelling at you and calling you a ‘home-wrecker’ and ‘man-stealer’ along with some really offensive stuff. 

-You were putting her in her place when Yuuji came out and saw the whole scene. 

-She immediately ran to him spewing nonsense and lies about how you came at her for no reason. 

-The face of pure shock and disbelief on your face was enough for Terushima to understand that she was lying. 

-All those other times his ‘girl’ said or acted like a bitch to you came crashing down he was hit by a train of realization. 

-He suddenly was aware of your fight and the possibility of losing you, so he finally acted. 

- “I don’t know what happened but don’t talk about Y/N like that.” 

-She looked so offended for a second before snapping....literally. 

- “You defend her over me? Your girlfriend? She is nothing but a sad little girl who wants to steal you away from me! And you’re encouraging her! She’ll start believing she has a chance with you!!!”

-He just let out a growl and pushed past her wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you into a hug. 

- “Maybe she does.”

-The both of you left the gym and went to blow off some steam at the water fountains.

-After your exchanged apologies you started to mess around throwing playful jabs.

- “Did you mean it? What you said to her.”

- “You mean about us? If you want it to be true than yeah if you don’t then just ignore it.”

-You leaped into his arms squeezing the life out of him as your voice came out in a muffled jumble of words “I want it to be true.”

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