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lo1k-diamonds · 1 year ago

Text

Bubbles 💜 (Part 1)

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

PAIRING: Jungkook/Reader

SUMMARY: You're back in town and your first stop in a night out with friends is a new club: SX Seoul. You had no plans, but when you see your ex, everything changes.

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: exes, explicit sexual content, in public, oral, slight degradation and rough cause you are both hurt

PARTS: [1] [2]

(You can also read it on AO3)

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You smiled at the bouncer on your way inside the club and brushed a strand of dark hair behind your ear. Your group called you to follow as you got lost looking around the newest club in Itaewon. It was purposefully dark with red neon lights in wavy lines flowing in the direction of the dance floor but not before a huge sign with black and white stripes coaxed your attention with promises expanding over the several floors: SX.

“Come along.”

You smile at your best friend and follow her and her friends to a reserved club area not too far from the bar. The Tech House music is making your rib cage hum comfortably, and you sit on a couch before she turns to you again.

“I know the bartender on our side tonight! I’ll go say hi for a second!”

You nod and watch her go as you take the space around you comfortably. The other girls are chatting, cross-checking who’s there tonight and who they know. You’re used to hanging with girls like them — fun and wild at parties and clubs. You don’t know them because you’ve been away for a while, but you trust your dearest friend to keep good company around.

Either way, you’re there to have fun and enjoy being back home. You take a deep breath, the familiar scent of sweat and alcohol latching itself onto your skin before you even contemplate dancing. Everyone else is already doing it, flowing like a perfect wave in that crowd, and you’ll join them soon enough.

The lights were flashing all around to the generous beat, making you tap your foot, and you contemplated getting up without waiting for your best friend when you saw him. Fully dressed in black in a way that avoided light and dancing so closely with a girl your guts burned with furious envy.

“Right? I’ve heard about him,” a girl gushed to your right. “He’s very hot.”

“You’re joking, look at that sleeve,” another one replied, and your eyes immediately traced his arm. It was fuller now. “I wanna ride that bad.”

“Do you think he has other tattoos?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” one answered, and they all giggled and laughed around. Your eyes never diverted from him or the way he was dancing with that girl, firm hands gripping her waist over a sparkly deeply cleavaged top.

“But you know, I’ve heard he fucks without kissing. Without even acknowledging you.”

Finally, your eyes turned to the girl sharing all the gossip, and you wondered how she knew that.

“First-hand experience?” You ask with a teasing smile, just making conversation. They didn’t have to know how truly interested you were in knowing.

“No,” the other girls turned to hear more, and you could see they were all charmed by the picture the girl was conjuring. “Not my kind of thing.”

The other girls teased her reply for a moment while you paid them little mind.

“Yeah, right. Look at him,” another one laughed openly.

“He’s fucking sexy and has this cute smile,” one said, almost wantonly. She was possibly voicing everyone else’s thoughts. “Face it, who wouldn’t want to touch those curls?”

“He can get any girl on her knees.”

“And a bad boy? Get serious. We’d all be lining up.”

“What if he changes?”

“What if we’re the one?”

They all giggled except you, starting to regret not having a drink in your hand.

“Guys like him don’t change.”

“Actually,” the girl with the gossip leaned forward. “Rumor is he was in a committed relationship and that when she dumped him, he did a one-eighty and never dated seriously again.”

Your friend neared you all with a tray of shots and a wide grin, “Who’s not dating seriously?”

“Whoa, what a bitch,” one replied, leaning forward to grab a glass.

“Who would waste that?”

“If I could tap that, I’d hook him around my little finger.”

Your best friend looked at you quizzically, and you just twitched the corners of your mouth. You grabbed a shot glass as well while the gossip girl explained everything to your best friend. In an instant, her eyes shot to yours, but you were purposefully avoidant.

“What’s his name anyway?” One of them asked, turning her back so they could toast.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

Your eyes immediately fell back on him, and you ignored your friend’s worried looks. You cheered with the girls to a good and steamy night and drank the shot without much thought. It burned on its way down, but you were already burning from before, so no biggie. Who cared who he danced with, you were there to have fun too.

Your best friend called your name with a tinge of worry, and all you did was smile, “I’ll go grab another round.”

You got up and adjusted your short strapless dress to make sure it covered your ass before trying to get in between the crowd to reach the bar. You didn’t have to go that far, but you couldn’t control your curiosity. As you moved in closer, you could see how he seemed taller, more built, and so buff. He had let his hair grow longer, and it curled wildly around his ears, giving him an edge you found yourself liking a lot. Your lower belly was tingling already as you eyed him with hunger, especially those firm hands.

You were so hot that you were sweaty and by the time you leaned against the bar, you finally noticed something wasn’t right. The girl he was with was waving something small and flat between two fingers that she hid very quickly, and whatever it was got him angry. You knew that disgusted lip pull, and it made you smile.

He turned away from the girl, and you instantly faced the bar, giving the whole scene your back. You were curious, hot, and bothered by the mere fact that he was there, that you got to see him, that there was a possibility that you would talk. It had been a while. You shouldn’t be curious, but the tingly sensation down your stomach wasn’t interested in shouldn’ts.

It was then and there that you almost took a deep breath and committed to not look his way the rest of the night. Your curiosity shouldn’t be enough, the girls gossiped way too much so you had all the information you could need, and there was really no need for your paths to intersect.

But fate wouldn’t have you choose that road tonight, it would seem. You turned to the side, curious as to where he would be, and you smiled. There were only two people in between you and an outstretched arm with a full sleeve over the bar counter. He was too close to be ignored, and you just couldn’t.

You made your way to him and luckily the two people between you had just gotten their drinks and were ready to leave. Jungkook didn’t notice you getting near because the bartender was listening to his order, and you just leaned on the bar counter by his side.

“Order for me too, will you?”

He turned to you and his face was worth a million words. His lips parted to make way for air, but he wasn’t breathing, and that was when you noticed the lip ring. His skin was perfectly immaculate, the sweetness you’d recognize anywhere in the tender swell of his cheeks. Higher, his normally lovely eyes were wide in shock as he took in your presence. His eyebrows twitched, and you noticed another piercing, which along with the new ones on his lip made you smile as you leaned to support your head on your hand. He was still figuring out if you were a ghost while you were in wonderland, wondering what had happened to all that sweetness.

“Here you go,” the bartender placed a whiskey cola on the counter, and you turned quickly before Jungkook could react.

“Can you get me one too, please?”

You were already waving your credit card, and the bartender acquiesced without wasting a beat.

It was the moment he needed to grab his drink and chug half of it like he was dying of thirst. Or maybe he just really needed a drink after seeing you.

“Thirsty are we?” You asked, reaching for the glass from his hand and taking a couple of sips while never breaking away from his darkened eyes. The ice-cold drink had you close your eyes for a second, thankful for the refreshing sensation down your chest. “You always liked them sweet.”

You placed his glass near his hand again before turning to smile at the bartender returning with your card and your drink.

“You’re here.”

It wasn’t a question and if you weren’t interested in reading his lips, you might have missed it. So you smiled, letting the nostalgia fill you up in a nice kind of way. You had missed the little twitches of his lips while he mused, or the way he scratched his nose bridge softly when he was embarrassed or at a loss.

“I am. How are you?”

His eyes were focused on the drink, and he scoffed at your question, reaching to drink the rest of it. That was the first time you doubted this could end well. There was a bitterness in his features that dragged yours out of the deepest corners of you where you wished it would remain buried.

“Why are you here?”

Your lips twitched, “New club in Seoul.”

He sneered, “There were many new clubs in Seoul over the last year. Never crossed you before.”

“You know I wasn’t here.”

Your eyes locked, and yours had all the meaning they could have. You weren’t in Seoul, so you couldn’t have crossed paths before. But you were here now.

He looked down and licked his lower lip while kicking the bar pensively. You let him process the fact that you were there in the flesh while you drank. When he looked up at you again, you caught his eyes and passed him your drink. He took a second, but he grabbed it, turning to the bar to down it while you leaned into his ear.

“Dance with me.”

He looked out of the corner of his eye at you, and you pulled back, waiting. You weren’t as crazy as anyone could assume, you knew the options. He could outright laugh in your face and move away like you were a plague, and it would hurt, but you would understand.

You kept your eyes locked on his, riding that heartbeat as you waited. You also knew that he could take you up on that offer, dance with you, and who knew what else. And it wasn’t as much as for the mystery, or a challenge, or anything of the like. You didn’t want him for any of those vain reasons. You wanted so much more.

He gave you a short nod and placed your empty glass next to his, with only the ice left. You gave him a cheeky smile before turning to go deeper into the crowd, far away and in the middle so that your best friend wouldn’t see you and advise you to be wise and think twice. What could you tell her; the moment fate challenged you with the chance of meeting him, you instantly lost.

You never turned back to check if he was following, you just assumed he did. You stopped with the flashing lights, sweating bodies, and thrumming music all around you, and you closed your eyes. You wanted his hands on you, his arms around you, his waist so close you’d be indistinguishable. You craved his presence, slick pooling at the thought of it alone.

So when two firm hands grabbed your waist and pulled you back flush against a firm chest, snaking arms holding your stomach and going up your sternum like they owned you, all you could do was free-fall into him, releasing a moan that you knew he could have never heard, but he surely felt.

He hid his nose in your hair, lulling you two to the beat, and you melted against him. He was always a good dancer, the way he rolled his hips to guide yours reminding you of far sweeter times. His hand reached your chest and rested there, and you thanked the dark, the loud music, the crowd, the alcohol, the moment. It was in those moments that the deepest desires came out, hiddenly safely away. Only the two of you knew: how he was brushing his nose and lips on your neck, and how you were grabbing his arms to close around you tighter.

“When did you come back?” His lips were so close to your ear that a wave of shivers ran down your neck.

“Two days ago.”

His arms around you had you losing yourself further and further. You couldn’t care less what the music was or where you were. All you wanted was that chance, and you were greedy.

“Are you alone?”

You sank your nails into his skin, “Youngjoo is here.” He didn’t react, but you knew he would remember your best friend. “Are you?”

You forced the words out of you. You almost didn’t want to know, especially after what the girls were gossiping about. Maybe they were wrong and he was dating someone seriously. But then he would have never been dancing with that girl before, so maybe the rumors were true. And on that end, you had very mixed feelings.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move away either. You loved everything as it was: every inch of his skin glued to yours, his lips ghosting your neck, his hands seconds away from groping you and making you beg.

But eventually, you needed more. You needed an answer. You’d beg, gladly, but not if he had his thoughts on someone else.

So you turned in his arms, the short dress allowing you to easily glue your bodies together as you hid near his ear. “Answer me,” you cooed, brushing his neck with your fingers until you were embracing and grazing his scalp with your nails. You leaned on him, his sweat not bothering you for an instant. It reminded you of what it was like to feel him that close while on his lap. When he would fuck into you, sweetly and strongly until every breath was a moany whimper, and you buried your fingers just like that to keep him close. His delectable scent would invade you then and envelop you tightly in everything Jungkook-related until all there was left was his coarse words tensing the coil in your—

He breathed near your ear, and you froze. But he said nothing, and so you sighed.

“Answer me,” you asked again. This time you nuzzled his ear and pressed yourself even closer, “Tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’re by yourself, that you have no plans, no one waiting at home, and nothing stopping you from doing this,” you let out all your deepest desires, carried out by the close and delirious moment.

His hand was pressing up your spine and nape as you spoke until it latched onto your hair, but it didn’t pull you away. You had moved by yourself to be as close as you could, breaths fanning each other’s faces as you waited for his reply.

You waited and longed, and tried not to rub your body flush against that familiar warmth that you were craving like the air you breathed. Unmistakably, your body betrayed you by leaning closer and closer until your noses grazed briefly, and that was when you felt the pull. His hand pulled your head back by your hair, and you opened your glistening eyes, teeth deep into your lower lip with utmost desire, only to find his dark eyes and rigid expression. And that was enough to shake you and put out in the open everything you wished had stayed hidden: he was angry.

Suddenly, you remembered very well the last time you saw him. How much it hurt him, and you. How much of a coward you had been. How much you didn’t deserve a drop of his attention, let alone his time, touch, or warmth.

He let you go slowly as memories you thought no longer haunted you came rushing back, making you swallow a lump. But you smiled, because how could you not? He was angry, so very clearly, and you deserved it.

Your bodies were finally separated and despite the happiness in your chest at having had the chance to see him, your knees were weak and your legs wobbly. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” you voiced, hoping that your expression conveyed how much you meant those words. For now. For before.

And you turned to leave with a deep breath. Were you running away? Yes. In a way, from the anger you created in him and the regret in yourself. From the risk of being rejected head-on, which you knew you had coming. But you were never brave, so you couldn’t face it. You could even agree he deserved to have the pleasure, but you were far too selfish to let him have it. No. You’d remain the bitch who dumped him and couldn’t face the consequences, which was exactly why you were leaving.

It was chilly outside, but it didn’t matter, you were too hot from all the emotions — the excitement and the shame and regret. You stepped to the street where you knew that among the cars stopping and passing, you’d eventually catch a taxi dropping people off, and took out your phone to text your best friend that you were leaving.

You had just hit send when someone grabbed your arm, and you offered resistance, ready to fight whoever dared to try to grab you and—

Familiar dark eyes faced you back, and you instantly let your body fall to his chest. His jawline was still firm as he clenched it, angry eyes stiffening his face, but you still let yourself get drawn in like a magnet to a polar opposite. You knew he was mad, knew he had reasons to hate you, despise you, treat you worse than the girls he fucked without kissing or acknowledging, but fuck were you—

He stepped back and dragged you along, and you offered no resistance. You had no idea where he was taking you as he walked you down the street tightly by the arm, hiding his grip between you as you walked. You looked up at him, ignoring if you’d trip and fall with such high heels. He looked angry, and you cursed yourself for thinking it looked hot as hell on him.

He pulled you into a dimly lit back alley that led to a residential area and stopped you just behind a hidden corner hidden by a parked car. Your back hit the wall, and you looked up at him while grabbing the chain strap of your bag over your head so it wouldn’t be in the way.

That thought repeated itself — he looked hot as hell. You didn’t like that he was angry with you, but that tension on him was sexy as fuck, and you wanted to be the one to relax him. To let him take out his frustration on you until he was vulnerable and sweet like you always remembered him.

Those were the thoughts in your mind when you raised your hands to touch him, but he slapped your hands away harshly. You didn’t have time to react, though because a second later he caged your face in his hands and crashed his mouth to yours, pressing you between him and the wall.

The cold wall was nothing when you were burning inside out. His mouth was hungry on yours, and you paid him back in kind, getting your tongue to meet his just as eagerly. Your hands gripped his shoulders closely while you tried not to let the lightheadedness get you, but it was too late. All you wanted was happening right now, you’d keep kissing him and reaching for him until the end.

His hands lowered to your curves as his lips trailed down your jawline, and you moaned when he squeezed your chest harshly. You pulled him closer; you wanted it all, and when he humped his erection to your hip, all you could think to do was beg.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling how hard he was through both your clothes, from head to base. “Fuck me right now. Please.”

His lips quickly came to yours, if to shut you up or not, you couldn’t tell. Either way, he gave you enough space to reach his waist, unbutton his pants and grab his cock firmly. He rutted your hand with wanton groans into your neck, and you felt like the world was yours. If you could have him, then you wouldn’t complain or whine ever again. If that thick cock would stretch you again like you wished so badly, then you’d shut up about everything wrong in this world because absolutely nothing would be wrong ever again.

Maybe he heard your prayers because suddenly he grabbed your hips and tapped them for you to instinctively jump on his lap. You supported yourself on his shoulders while he kissed you and let you play with his lip rings, rolling your tongue over them. Meanwhile, you could feel but not exactly know what he was doing at your waist level in between your two bodies. Only when he put the condom wrap near his mouth so he could rip it open with his teeth did you realize there was a good reason to interrupt your make-out session.

You let him have his focus while he put it on, lazily brushing your lips over his forehead. He searched for your panties, only to rudely pull them to the side and push himself inside you. You groaned with a hint of a whine at the burn, but soon he made you jump on his lap, shoving his cock fully into you, and you let your head fall back. Fuck, had you missed this.

You didn’t have time to let the pleasure reach every corner of you, but your enjoyment was not cut short. His hips snapped into yours and your chin dropped, eyes hooded when you realized that was how you were going to get him. He did it again, grabbing your shoulder and hip into place, and the corners of your mouth twitched. You almost smiled before biting your lip as he started a paced rhythm that didn’t give you a second’s rest.

His angry eyes were on you as the slaps echoed into the night along with your stifled moans until you couldn’t care. Who cared if someone found Jungkook fucking your brains out? You wanted him to, dreamed of it, remembered it, had wished on all your lucky stars you would one day get to feel that way again. And now? Fuck if you cared who caught you. That thick cock ramming into you was the sweetest thing—

He grabbed your hair to pull you to kiss him, and you kept on moaning into his mouth. His tongue didn’t meet the reception he wanted, and you blamed the way he was fucking into you so hard you couldn’t even breathe right. Maybe it aggravated him, or it just gave him his next idea, but in a second he was kissing down your neck, which had you grabbing his head close so he would keep going.

Suddenly, he yanked the upper part of your dress and as it didn’t have stripes, the elastic gave in and let the fabric slide. He did the same on the strapless bra, not stopping his hips for a second, until your chest was out in the open, bouncing with every thrust.

He buried his face between your tits, licking and biting for a moment in which you knew you were dripping slick down both him and you. You fucking loved it. Your haze was so up in the clouds, you couldn’t be bothered to come down until he did something that shook your heart.

He tightened your legs around his waist and leaned in a special angle. It allowed him to hold you firmly against the wall and fuck you in a way that rubbed your clit just like you loved it. Instantly, the way he reached deep inside you had you moaning breathlessly. Then he straightened up, carefully perfecting his movements until your mouth was open, and you were jumping on his lap with him to the best of your abilities. He knew he had you in the right spot, you were squirming but desperate to stay close, moaning and completely lost, trying to sink your nails into his skin but weak to the sensations leaving you adrift. He reveled in that, with such pride swelling inside him, he didn’t know what to do with himself aside from grabbing both your tits and squeezing them harshly.

He felt the way you tensed around his cock, and he knew he had you. With every snap of his hips, your eyes closed further, your moans became breathy, and your legs pulled him more in. He knew he could squeeze you to the point it bruised without as much as a whimper, but he stayed clear from doing it, taking pleasure only in the way his cock was so deep inside you that he knew you’d never forget it.

You took your hands to his over your chest, and then it hit you that only he could do you like this. Only he knew every little thing that you liked, only he knew how to grope and squeeze without hurting you, only he knew exactly how to fuck you into oblivion every time. Because it was him.

Fuck, it’s him. After so long—

You tried reaching for him, but your hand dropped to his shoulder as you let the orgasm shake you and steal away your inhibitions if there ever were any. You closed your eyes and felt his body press closer to you, almost as if to hide you from the world, as you moaned and cursed him for releasing you like this. He fucked you through it, then hid in your neck when it came to his climax, grunting and holding you tightly. You grinned and petted his head when he stilled, blissful with having him tucked deep inside you again.

Until he cursed into your neck, and you weren’t sure if it was out of giddiness, delight, relaxation, or relief like it would have been for you, or if it was because he was pissed at himself.

When he let you down a bit more abruptly than you anticipated, you were left with a stronger doubt.

He turned to the side to get rid of the condom, and you took the time to put your bra and dress back in place. When he turned back to face you, you had already grabbed your bag from the floor and were just looking at him. Your lips twitched — he looked so fucking handsome with that spark in his eyes.

He cursed, then ruffled his hair for a moment before looking at you again, “I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your hair neatly back and pursed your lips, “I’m staying at Youngjoo’s. I don't have a place yet, so we… wouldn’t have privacy.”

He openly snorted, “You're assuming I want seconds.”

You sighed with a light shrug, “Isn't that what we just did?”

His derision fell through as his features hardened again, but you didn't argue. You did what you did and didn't regret it for a second. You were both adults, and he followed you. There was no point in pretending you didn't want each other. That was what you asked for and what he had given you, whether that made him angry or not.

But you didn't want to antagonize him. You gave him a short nod, “It's okay, I can—”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a dry look before giving you a nod to follow him. You considered for a second if you should — if it made him so angry, maybe you shouldn't. But tonight you were giving zero fucks about shouldn’ts. You were doing what you wanted, and what you wanted was your hands on him for as long as possible.

So when he stopped next to a red motorcycle and opened the seat compartment to get you a helmet, you smirked. You wouldn't tell him, but you missed exactly that — hugging him while he sped between every single obstacle and your hair flowed behind you with the wind. When you were free to go mad fast but remained safe as only he made you feel.

He sat first, putting on his helmet expertly and starting the motor in a well-rehearsed move. You had seen him do it before, when you were still together, but there was a certain magic to it. Even some things changed, he didn’t.

He leaned his head ever so slightly to glance at you, and you smirked, finally getting on behind him and gripping him firmly. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you were feeling daring — and he looked back. He checked on you, despite the derision and silences. You took the small win.

“You remember where Youngjoo lives?” You asked in a bit of a shout as he looked at the road to finally get going.

He didn’t answer you, but seeing the direction he took, you immediately assumed he remembered. And with this, you allowed yourself to lean closer, wrap your arms tighter around his torso, and relax. You inhaled his scent unapologetically by sticking your face into his shoulder; the helmet was big, and he surely felt it. You palmed his chest and torso over his jacket; you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted. You were petty, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop and get angry with you or snap your hands away. Knowing this was perhaps the last chance you’d ever have to touch him, so you did. Wrong or right, it didn’t matter to you. You’d remember this later and all the little sensations, and you’d be happy you did.

You were lulled by his warm body and the drum of the motor raging on, so you paid little attention to where you were going. All you knew was that when he stopped and pushed a button for a communal garage to open at the foot side of an apartment complex, it was not Youngjoo’s place.

He rode more softly through the cars parked underground until he found his spot and stopped. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t need to. You stepped out of the bike and handed him your helmet, and he took it and put it back, the both of you quiet. You made sure to remain quiet as you followed him, small as a mouse, into the elevator lobby. Then, you got inside one, and he pressed the seventh floor. Even when the doors closed with only the two of you there, you stayed quiet.

Your mind was roaring on about him bringing you to his place and the only reason he would have to do that. Your chest could have exploded. With every passing minute ever since you laid eyes on him, it felt like you were living a dream. Only in dreams did you think you’d ever have the chance of being near him, so no matter what, you were winging it. Living the moment, even if all of this turned out to be an angry fuck, you’d gladly get on your back.

He typed the code to unlock an apartment door, and you followed him inside. You left your cheekiness outside, in the night, right before you got into the bike and decided to make the most of your time with him. He threw the motorcycle keys on a table you couldn’t see because it was dark and turned on the lights, making you hold your breath. He had moved to that place, that much was certain, but this space didn’t remind you of Jungkook like you expected it to.

You had only taken one step to peep into his home, you meant to turn back and take your shoes off as it was respectful to do, but he was a step ahead. You moved out of the way to switch places with him right after he got his jacket on the hanger, but he had something else in mind. His hands followed you to your waist, and as soon as you looked up, eager lips were searching for yours.

You instantly melted against the wall, hands raising to run through his hair as you let yourself dive into that contentment again. While you were relaxed, he was clearly impatient. His palms traced your curves in wide but quick movements, so firmly you knew you could have already been naked, he was learning the same. His tongue was inside your mouth almost as quickly as his body pressed to yours, stealing your thoughts and any possibility you ever had to change your mind. Not that you would, and you were sure he knew that. Your hands were grabbing him close, your breathing was heavy and dragged, and you weren’t fighting his kiss in the slightest, on the contrary. Your tongue was inviting him and your body was arching to expose more skin. You were taking what you could, and you’d give back whatever he wanted.

But then he broke the kiss and looked down, forcing you to stop as well. You looked at him under wanton fluttering lashes, only to find him with that same stiff and reticent expression you had seen before.

Your first heartbeat stung — you could guess why he was hesitating, and there was nothing you could do about it now.

The second revolted you — you were there, weren’t you? In his house? He brought you here, so why worry? Why hesitate? Why overthink?

The third got you annoyed — if he was that hesitant, why bring you there in the first place? Why bother?

The fourth riled you up, and that was when you spoke, “What’s wrong?”

He refused to look up at you, but never moved away.

His breathing was calming down, and you spoke without thinking, “Changed your mind?”

His eyes finally moved to yours and you saw his anger. And again, like a well-rehearsed exercise, all you could think was how you were right there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, reaching for the curling strands of hair behind his ear.

He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the corner of your lips, and you knew he was forcing himself to stay like this.

“I can leave,” he finally said. “You can sleep here, and I can leave.”

“Why?”

He finally looked up at your eyes as you let your head fall back to the wall.

“This is your place, why leave?”

His jaw tensed, and you could swear you saw a vein pulsing.

You sighed, “You brought me here, so here I am. What do you want to do? Fuck me until morning? Gladly. Just sleep? I’m sure you have a big bed. Drink until we pass out? I’m down. Talk?” His eyebrows twitched, and she nodded, “Not sure how that would work, but we can. Or not. I won't say another word if you don’t want me to. Just stop this internal struggle of yours. Do what you want to do.”

You were as comfortable as could be between him and the wall and just waited for his decision. Your eyes stayed on his pensive expression, taking in the little details before lowering to his wide shoulders and biceps. He was definitely more buff, and you wondered if it changed things a lot or—

“You can shower first.”

He backed away from you, and you couldn’t help your expression sobering up. He looked almost apologetic, hiding something deep inside while showing you something you could only call a mask.

But you knew him. All those women thirsting after him, wishing they could make him smile and fall for them, didn’t know him like you did. For better or worse, all they had were rumors while you had memories.

So you nodded and walked towards the bathroom, but not before turning around midway, “Please don’t leave.”

The look you gave him was enough — pleading, whereas his eyes flickered with an emotion you had not yet seen on him tonight. But even if you wanted to press it and ask, you didn’t. At the end of the day, it was still his choice, and you were well aware of it.

You took a calming shower, cleaning the sweat and alcohol from your skin with a shower gel that smelled of him, and wondered what your next step should be. You ended up deciding that if he had left despite your request, you would call a taxi and go back to Youngjoo’s. You honestly hoped as you toweled yourself that he would tell you to leave and be clear about it, instead of leaving to give you space at the expense of his comfort.

You glanced around the bathroom and ignored your discarded dress and heels in the corner, searching for something else instead. Your eyes fell on a black tee thrown over the laundry basket, but that didn’t quite make it in. You grabbed it and brought it to your nose, shutting your eyes instantly with a longing scrunch of your face — it smelled of him. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit the mess of feelings that his very existence created in you, but the tears in your eyes were enough.

You quickly put it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. He always enjoyed oversized clothes, which on you looked like two of you could fit. Your lips curved as you smoothed the fabric over your stomach, his scent gracing your senses every time you took a breath. Nothing beat that comfort.

You turned to leave the bathroom and hoped to find Jungkook still there. You hoped he’d let you keep the tee, though you wouldn’t be opposed to taking it off if it would be replaced with his strong arms—

The scent of coffee hit your nose quickly once in the living room, and your brow furrowed. Not because it was coffee, Jungkook liked coffee, but because when you neared the kitchen, your guts twisted. On the counter, you saw a fuming mug, and the cinnamon smell instantly teared you up. That plus the bottle of soy milk and the honey pot pushed to the back told you many things: he had those things he never really drank before lying around, he remembered your favorite latte, and he made it for you.

Your eyes jumped to his back; he was looking outside the kitchen window and by the intense coffee scent around him, you knew before he turned that he was having a black espresso.

He looked at you and your guts turned; all you could do was look into his eyes while your fingers gripped the hem of his shirt on you. You were tearing up in a way you couldn’t control, everything was too much. He didn’t leave. You were there, in his life, in his home, wearing his clothes, about to have your favorite drink that he prepared for you because he still remembered how. That meant he had to care, even if just a little, and you didn’t know what to say but—

Your chin trembled, but before you voiced anything, he finished his coffee, put the empty cup in the sink, and passed you to enter the bathroom. The door merely clicked closed, and you covered your eyes, trying to reel your emotions back in. You neared the counter to grab your coffee and as soon as the taste hit your tongue, your heart shook, creasing lines between your eyebrows as you teared up.

You didn’t want to have hope, but your stupid heart was turning a deaf ear. You never had hope before; you knew you fucked up and never handled things properly. Just for the way you hurt him, you knew you didn’t deserve any kindness. You scoffed at yourself and drank more to have the comfort of that warmth down your chest as if it came straight from him. You knew, and it made no sense, but you were still there, and you were willing to delude yourself for a moment longer.

So you took the mug and the opportunity to look around while you heard the shower faintly in the background. His place was bigger now, and you looked around with a smile on your face. He had the same black leather couch, the same gray bean bag, and the same shoebox by the entrance. The fact that he had a projector screen instead of a TV made you smile; he spoke for ages about wanting to do that if he ever moved out of his previous place. But as you took in the rest of the apartment, your smile broke a little.

On the corner, there was a barbell weight set, dumbbells, a pull-up bar, and resistance bands. He used to work out before, but now you knew why he looked bigger — he definitely worked out more now. You pursed your lips with the sweet latte comforting you as you sipped it slowly; you didn’t want to think about why he was making that effort.

You moved on to take a look at his desk, interested in what he was working on, and you stilled. He still had his gaming keyboard, mouse, and desktop, but now he had books about photography on the desk. He always liked photography and filmmaking, but the new camera and microphone spoke volumes about what he was working on at the moment. You searched around for the easel he’d always have with a recent work in progress or his sketch notebook, but you couldn’t find them, and so you pressed your lips. You loved it when he sketched you, always when you least expected it, showing you beautiful versions of yourself you only started believing because of him.

You finished the coffee, eager for the sweet trace to link you back to him. You wondered what happened to—

You turned when you heard the bathroom door open; you never noticed he had stopped showering. Your thoughts tripped over themselves at the sight of him: wet raven hair ruffled by a towel long abandoned somewhere, dark eyes set on you as if he wanted to make sure he was seeing right, soft golden skin covering wide shoulders and big arms, and chest, leading to firm abs that were always there, but not as marked. Your eyes lowered, but the black towel was hanging on to his hip like you could only envy.

You raised your eyes to find him serious, looking at you; tense features on a tense body.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, waving the empty mug before placing it down on the kitchen counter. You swallowed a lump at the view of him walking towards you, despite his demeanor. “It’s my favorite—”

You weren’t startled when he grabbed your head and crashed his mouth to yours. You were praying for it to happen, and the burn running down your chest from the way your mouths tried to consume one another had you melting instantly. You wanted him, you weren’t hiding it, and whatever way he wanted to touch you worked as long as he did. As long as those lips pressing yours covered all of you. As long as his tongue fighting yours spelled your pleasure at his whim, while his fingers pressed marks only he could trace on you.

Your hands moved to those wide shoulders that had your knees wobbly, and he pushed them away before forcing your head up to face him better. He wanted your focus on your kiss only, and you didn’t mind, but the temptation to grab him and scratch him was overriding your senses. You tried again, but this time he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you with him. You gripped his shoulders for support, finally sinking your nails in the soft muscle just as he nibbled your bottom lip.

Your ass hit something and when he pushed you to get on it, you just briefly freed one hand to throw whatever was on the dining table behind you off. You moaned with the bites he was leaving down your neck, while you focused on keeping him close with your legs wrapped around him. He fumbled with the tee shirt to get his hands on you and quickly grabbed your chest in a push-and-squeeze motion that had you moaning and humping him. Fuck, you missed this. No one could ever mess you up like he could, you always turned into a whimpering wet mess with him.

He scratched down your stomach to your hips, squeezing them harshly, then pulled away. He grabbed the hem of the shirt, and you raised your arms instantly to let him strip you.

The, he stepped back and threw the shirt on the floor, hungry dark eyes observing you from head to toe.

“Fuck, look at you.”

A subtle line showed between your eyebrows; his tone was abrasive in a way you weren’t familiar with. But the way he got back between your legs while getting on his knees was in line with what you knew. He, in a praying position, tracing your skin with open-mouthed kisses while he groped and scratched every inch of you, was one of the reasons you couldn’t forget him. You couldn’t let go of what it felt like to be desired by that man. The thought alone had you wet and whimpering, the only difference was that now you’d experience it again after only dreams and hopes.

His mouth kept tracing kisses on your inner thighs, just like he knew would drive you crazy, but you didn’t whine about it. No, you wanted it to last. Whatever he’d give to you, you wanted it. You weren’t beyond begging, but you wouldn’t just with a little bit of torture. No, you knew how that mouth could move on you, how his tongue could lap at the perfect rhythm. You could wait for perfection.

He slapped your ass on one side, opening your leg further with a whimper from you. He repeated the motion on the other side, and only then did you notice you were squeezing him between your legs. It made you smirk as you looked down — you could see his dark eyes with a few wet hair strands over them, the hint of teeth as he grazed your sensitive inner thighs. He could spank you all he wanted; you wanted him to. So you smiled and pressed your lips, clearly telling him that you’d keep your mouth shut.

He bit down, getting a deep moan from you. You were clenching around nothing, dripping with slick, and you were sure he noticed.

“Since when are you so patient?”

He sounded annoyed, and you giggled wantonly, so fucking amused you couldn’t help it. “I’m patient when it’s worth it.” You could feel his hands pressing your skin, going to the swell of your ass to squeeze, and you nearly sighed. “I wouldn’t dare to rush perfection.”

He scoffed but dropped his mouth on you instantly, having all your cockiness evaporating on the spot. He ate you like only he did, grabbing your squirmy self still while he made out with you. His tongue lapped at your clit in a fixed rhythm that you couldn’t explain, and seconds later you released every square inch of air from inside your lungs with a deep moan. He knew you liked a stable, slow rhythm, but keeping your thighs in place was irking you. It was right there! If only he’d let you move. Just a centimeter right— No! Just one or two to the left, and you’d be lost to those sensations you hadn’t felt in months.

You whimpered, but you couldn’t talk while he did that to you. You reached for his hands on your hips and squeezed them, both looking for support and for a way to be free. His humming to your core had you sucking in a breath, but what broke you were his words.

“Stay still, bubbles. Let me get you there.”

He licked you faster in a way that had you whimpering and tensing up like a coil about to spring. Every lap of his tongue increased your tension, pitched your moan, and stole your breath, to a point you thought you’d explode. You sat up and grabbed his hair, ecstatic. It was him with his face half buried in you, eating you, getting you there, calling you by your pet name like nothing changed.

That thought alone pushed you to the edge, and you hopped on the train. Steadily and surely, Jungkook would take you there, just like he promised. Just like you wished.

So you started moaning louder, half derailed, “Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so good.” You could barely breathe, but you wanted him to know how much you loved this. “Take me there, please, I’m—”

Your voice broke because you suddenly were cold. You were panting and shocked, but your first instinct was to look down at him and loosen up your grip on his hair.

“Are you okay?”

He faced you quietly, with your slick covering his nose, mouth, and chin while his digits dug into your hips. Your worry clouded your judgement, having your hand brush his cheek in search of an answer that only came when he stood up and turned away. Then, you blinked to reality and looked down and around. You were confused. Not because he stopped, but because he insisted on staying quiet and to himself.

You got up and were about to speak your mind when you saw that the towel had fallen to the ground. That gave you the impulse to walk up to him and look down shamelessly — he was so hard, he was pointing at you. You raised your eyes and found his on yours, darker than before. He was tense and angry, that was clear, but he was hard, having rubbed his hand over his face to clean your slick off him. But then, why was he licking his lips and his lip rings, where your taste was probably stronger?

You took a deep breath and placed your hands firmly on his shoulders, pushing him steadily. He let you, walking back until his calves hit the sofa. You tapped his shoulders once and he sat down. His hands were on your hips and started tracing circles absentmindedly, and you leaned closer to pet his hair. His sweet caresses were enough to soothe you, to become sure of something you weren't sure you had the right to be sure of. But it didn't matter — he chose the wrong night to be indecisive. You were willing to choose for you both.

You kissed his head before getting on your knees in between his legs. He gave you a dark cold stare and with anyone else you might have cowered, but not with him. You waited a moment with your hands over his legs, but he never gave you clear permission, incentive, or rejection. So you took the option that suited you best and leaned in.

You trailed your lips over his soft and built thighs, kneading the firmness with a whimper caught in your throat. You kissed closer and closer, releasing sighs left and right and paying little to no mind to what he would think of you for it. You both had always been like this: crazy for one another, praising and worshiping as quickly as you would use and abuse. You had never had another relationship like it, before or after, and to say you missed it would be an understatement.

But you weren’t going to sob over past mistakes right now. No, what mattered now was to not make a stupid mistake like not kissing, licking, and scratching every inch of him until he either begged or complained, or you lost it.

You moved ever so closer to his crotch but stopped by his balls first, giving them wide-tongued licks that had him sighing. You glanced up to see his eyes closed, with wet hair dripping down his shoulders; the first hint of relaxation from him. That’s it, you coed in your mind. Fuck, did you miss seeing him falling apart. You craved it and you’d make it happen.

You kept licking and kissing, and as you moved up his shaft, it occurred to you that it didn’t matter that you hadn’t cum. It didn’t matter that he had given up, or even why. You weren't opening your mouth around his tip and licking it with hunger because you wanted something in return.

You moaned as soon as his taste hit your buds, and your thoughts became a blur. Your head bobbed mindlessly, and you drooled all over him, using the expanse of your tongue on his tip, taking whatever you could no matter how because you fucking missed it. That taste, that hardness, the hand that came to grip your hair but remained light as a feather, until finally, you looked up. His eyebrows were knit in pleasure with his mouth agape, tongue peaking through, and licking his lip ring while grabbing your head in a firm yet loving gesture — that was it, the prize. He was finally relaxed as you bobbed your head and drooled all over him, and the perspective of making him weak exhilarated you in a way that had you going harder, firmer, stronger. You didn’t notice, but you were breathing in between his cock touching your throat, your cheeks stayed hollowed, and your hand accompanied your every move over his shaft while you played with his balls. When his precum invaded your mouth, all your thoughts went out the door.

You gripped his cock firmer and moaned all over it, adjusting your posture to focus even better. Fuck, did you want his taste in your mouth. You touched yourself to the thought of it before, of him, but now being there on your knees with his grunts finally adoring your ears, your focus was all on him. You could come later to the memory of that very moment, all he had to do was let go and shoot warm ropes of cum down your throat.

But he recoiled and guided your head away. You had no idea if he pulled your hair, but you knew he never asked you to stop. The only sounds out of his mouth were grunts of pleasure, and you had seen his face — he was on cloud nine. He liked it, he was weak for it, for you and the way you did it, so why?

You looked up, an arched eyebrow quizzically raised, but he had his bicep covering his eyes while his chest heaved up and down. You were done with him stripping away everything you wanted from you, so you got up and got on his lap with a knee on either side of him. You thought he might have shooed you away or told you to get off, but no. His hands went instantly to support your hips, and you were even more irked.

“Why?”

He opened his eyes and the stiffness was back to his pleasant features. That had you pouting with tears in your eyes. Maybe you could figure out why, but you didn’t care — you leaned forward and brushed his cheek gently. He brought you there, and he wasn’t rejecting you. It was time he made a decision.

“Why push me away?” You insisted, letting your nail graze his sweet cheek gently. He recognized that tone in your voice, and that was why he answered.

“I was about to cum.”

“So?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes only hardened, and you looked down at his erect cock between you. There were so many things you could say, and so many paths to choose from. You could get angry, whiny, blow him anyway, ride him, and you considered every option. But you kept reverting to that anger behind those beautiful dark eyes. And as you both faced each other, you knew why he was mad — because you hurt him the year before. Because what you were doing was maybe a source of conflict, it sure could have been for you as well if you didn’t still…

Well.

Your expression softened as you pressed your lips to his forehead, “Take it out on me.”

He didn’t move or respond, and you just dragged your lips soothingly over his skin in small peppered kisses.

“Please,” you whispered. “Take it all out on me. I want you to.” You dragged your nails up his neck, and he leaned his head forward. “I need you to.”

His hands gripped your waist as he seemed to hide in your chest, and you sat closer to him. You petted his beautifully longer hair, still, and sighed when he pressed your lower back to keep you close. You smiled and kissed his head, taking that as a yes. So you waited like that until he decided how he would do it.

Your answer came when he glued his mouth to your chest and started nibbling down until he caught a nipple. You didn’t hide your sigh — he was a tits kind of guy, and he always loved yours, worshiping them in every sense of the word. And you had always loved him for it, and for the way he could leave you a moaning mess with his attention exclusively there.

So you hissed and sighed, with his mouth, tongue, and teeth driving you insane. To return the favor, you reached down in between your bodies and found his rock-hard dick. Your spit hadn’t dried yet, so you jerked him off gently through your pitched moans.

You could feel him twitching in your hand. You knew he loved your tits and got lost in licking and biting them. You knew he got crazy when you played with him at the same time, playing with his weakness while truthfully wanting nothing more than for him to play with all of you.

So you leaned down by his ear. “Come on,” you whispered in a low tone. “Take it out on me. Do it.” You gripped him a bit harder, earning a stronger bite from him that had you instantly hissing and clenching around nothing. “I want to feel you.” Your hand never stopped, and he seemed to be listening to you — only his tongue was moving. “Hard. Deep. Fuck it all out on me.”

You buried your nose in his hair and waited, never stopping your hand on him. You preferred if he fucked you senseless, but even jerking him off would be nice if that was his mood.

But you doubted it was, and indeed, it wasn’t. He let go of your abused nipple and faced you for a second. He didn’t comment on anything you said, he only grabbed you firmly by the hips and stood up, taking you with him.

You gasped mutely and hugged him strongly, only to realize that he was carrying you without an ounce of effort. He was truly stronger, which could mean he would fuck you harder—

He dropped you on his bed, making you whimper, and your tits bounce around, then he moved away. You sat up, worried about him just leaving, but then you tilted your head. He was adjusting a full-body mirror that was purposefully facing another wall to show the bed. You saw your reflection on it and mused over why he had that mirror set like that and took the time to change it.

He neared you while rolling a condom, and you looked at him, breath slowing with the perspective of what would happen now. He traced a hand down your hip, and you laid back, but he immediately gripped both your sides and turned you around. You puffed, half annoyed, half melting at being handled like that, and got on all fours for him. You thought he’d toy with you and you’d patiently wait for what you wanted most, but he didn’t. He instantly put his cock at your entrance, and you groaned, gripping the sheets with the desire burning through you.

“You want it?” His tone was quiet but sure, almost cold. His hand struck your ass, but you only gave him a gentle moan. “Get it then.”

You bit your lip and moved back, opening your mouth with the familiar stretch that had you curling your toes. You went slowly, thankful for his resistance that allowed his cock to brave more and more, inch by inch, until you were full. You knew he wasn’t totally in, and he reminded you by jerking his hips once until he bottomed out. You gave him a little whine and he chuckled.

“There. Didn’t think you had forgotten how I fucked you earlier, but I’ll remind you.”

He snapped his hips into yours, and you knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but you didn’t care. He was doing what you asked, finally connected to you, giving you the pleasure of your dreams. It didn’t matter if he was treating you roughly, you asked for it. You wanted it, you needed it. Him, his anger, anything he would give you.

“Look at you,” he grunted before gripping your ass better. “I haven’t even started.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head to face him through the mirror. You gave zero fucks about how vulnerable you were, needy, greedy, whimpering, and begging for more even though you knew how much more could come. No, you looked at him. At his focused expression, telling you this wasn’t as easy as he made it seem. At his flexed abs, tense thighs, and buff biceps. At his hand on your ass, squeezing. At his eyes moving from yours to verify your position — not only if you looked good, but at your knees and elbows sliding. For your comfort. It had to be, right?

You were tucked in his grip, so when he went harder, you had nowhere to go. You took his hips slapping against you and moaned loudly, abandoned to the feeling that only he fucking you could tear out of you.

“Can’t take it?” His voice was mocking. “How’s that?” You couldn’t coherently answer. “Are you that desperate for a proper dicking?”

“Wasn’t that what you did before?”

You barely got it out, but he heard you, not stopping for a second. “Clearly wasn’t enough. Your boyfriend must be doing a really sloppy job.”

His voice was tense. You wondered if bitterness was in the mix, but you were too high to think about it.

“No boyfriend. Maybe that’s the problem.”

His hand struck your ass so hard, you whimpered a cry. But in a second, he was rubbing that area and gripping you closer, fucking you harder. It made you see stars, and you couldn’t get enough.

“So whiny,” he grunted, “so needy.”

You scoffed. He was the one fucking you as hard as possible.

“Do you always moan like that?” You felt his nails on your ass cheeks. “Any cock can get that noise out of you.”

You grinned, “No, only yours can.” You expected another slap, but it didn’t come. “Never met anyone who can fuck me like you.”

He smacked the other ass cheek harshly and gripped you so hard that the constant hit of his cock deep inside you almost short-circuited your brain.

“But you searched.”

He was speaking between gritted teeth, but you were in no condition to notice. “So did you. Fucked how many right here, on this bed?”

He smacked your ass again, but looking through the mirror, you could see he wasn’t just angry now. His eyes were closed as if in pain. But you were too riled up to stop.

“Looking for what? Any thigh cunt?” He was getting sloppy, and you couldn’t shut up. “Or did you really think anyone else could get you this desperate?” You fucked yourself on his cock against his rhythm, and you could swear he growled. But who cared, he was snapping his hips to yours again. “Why so quiet?” His hand striking your ass had you arching for him, but not quieting down. “Tell me. Do you cream yourself this easily with—”

He pulled your hair, forcing your back to arch and take him deeper. Your mouth opened, instantly melting in ways only he could cause, until you shivered when you felt him near your ear.

“No.” You opened your eyes in his silence to find him looking at you through the mirror. If your opened mouth spelled how deep he was buried inside you, then his eyes told of how desperate he was. “Only you do this to me. Only you drive me this fucking crazy.”

He connected his nose to your shoulder despite ramming into you wildly, and grunted together with you. You couldn’t stifle your moans, your curses, or your prayers. But you yelped when suddenly he let you go and rolled you over. He got between your legs and immediately slid inside, earning a sigh from you and a plea.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and leaned down over you, seeing your eyes widen. You extended your hands, what for you weren’t certain, but he grabbed them and pressed them to the mattress on either side of your head.

His hips restarted their rocking and you moaned desperately. You squirmed, and moaned, and said his name, and begged, and squeezed his hands, and all the while he never stopped fucking you. He was sweating, it was dripping over you, but you couldn’t care. All that mattered was that he was as deep as possible inside you, torturing you with how good it felt, and you were there for it. Loving every moment.

“Fuck— You’re so deep—”

“You like it?”

His tone was gentle, almost as if he wished for nothing but to please you. You were lost. You wished for nothing else but him.

“Yes— Yes—”

You were desperate, at the edge of your emotions with tears in your eyes, and he saw it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You!” Your answer was instantaneous, at the end of a moan. “You, fuck, please, you, just you—”

“I’m here.”

You gripped his hands and anxiety crossed your features for a moment, “Please.”

He kissed you, relenting his rhythm, only to whisper to your lips, “I’m here, bubbles.”

You opened your teary eyes to look at him, and your heart shook. His eyes were sweet despite the pleasure and effort mingling in his features. He was looking at you, really looking, really seeing you, and he was there. He wasn’t taking it out on you anymore, he was really with you, like he once was.

You didn’t want to delude yourself, but the way he continued, staying close to your face to peck your lips and your cheeks, was swelling your heart too much to be contained. You moved with him, lulled by that movement you longed for too long. That thought alone got you on the right tangent, and you made sure to tell him through moans, looks, and your hands in his. He nuzzled you, sweat dripping down, and answered every plea and moan with signs of his own pleasure.

You let it grow inside you until you knew you couldn’t be contained, and neither did you want it to. You opened your mouth to tell him and nothing came out, but he got it.

“Cum with me.”

He grunted his words before kissing you, and you whimpered and moaned your overwhelming pleasure without breaking away. He groaned into your mouth and pressed your lips firmly when you were both done, panting, sweaty, and spent.

You didn’t think about what would happen after that; truthfully, you wished time would stop. For a moment you believed it could be true — he stayed inside you with his mouth on your neck, just suckling as you enjoyed his weight over you. You were drifting away, so utterly relaxed, happy, and fulfilled.

Until he pulled away and your heart cracked.

You couldn’t open your eyes immediately, you weren’t ready to face it again, not after the way you were just together. But when you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised.

Jungkook looked tired and sleepy, but that was it. He was extending his hand for you and you grabbed it. He pulled you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pointing at the toilet and turning to handle the condom. You peed, but your mind latched onto nothing, you didn’t want to ruin that bliss.

He took your hand again and pulled you back to bed, opening the sheets before pushing you gently with an arm around your waist. You sighed and leaned back into him. He held you into his chest as he covered you both with a sheet, and you could swear that it was all a dream. All of it.

[Next part>]

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redroomreflections · 1 month ago

Text

Hotel California | Track 8: Obvious

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4.7k

Chapter 8/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Another week of y'all reading my mediocre song lyrics. Let's wrap this up by the new year.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Saturdays were for tennis. Every weekend, if your dad were in town, he’d send a message inviting you and Isabella for your weekly tennis match, followed by tea on the patio with your mom. It had been this way ever since Isabella was a tiny girl, a tradition that had endured through the years.

You’d grown up watching your father maintain his high-profile career—managing bands, launching artists, orchestrating deals—but when he was home, he always made time for this simple ritual. Tennis and tea. Just the four of you. You smiled as you stepped onto the courts, the early morning sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. He was already on the court, wearing his usual pair of black sunglasses and his signature calm, calculating demeanor. His presence alone was enough to put most people on edge. But not you. You knew your father better than anyone. He had always been a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes.

The sound of the tennis ball bouncing off the court snapped you back to the present. Isabella was sitting off to the side with your mother and a cup of tea, chatting away like a little grown-up. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them together. Isabella was growing into her own person, and you felt lucky to have witnessed all of it. Especially now, when she would listen to your conversations, paying half attention but always absorbing every detail. Then she'd offer her advice as if you weren't the parent.

“So,” Nick said, casually hitting the ball back over the net. “How’s this Natasha girl?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You had expected it, sure. Your father had been strangely quiet about your dating life up until now. He’d asked about Sam before, mostly because he liked the guy, and you were married to him, but Natasha? That was a different story.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone light. “She’s good, Dad. Really good. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

Nick nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. The intensity in his eyes never wavered, and he returned the ball with more force than usual, almost like he was using tennis as an excuse to let out his frustration.

“You’re serious about her?” he asked, his voice more guarded than you were used to.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “She’s someone special.”

Nick didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you for a moment as if waiting for more. His next words came slowly, weighed down with skepticism. “I still don’t know about this whole rockstar thing. Are you sure about her? Where did you meet her?"

You knew this would come up. The idea of you dating someone in that world—especially Natasha—wasn’t exactly sitting well with him.

"Harley's birthday party," You glanced at Isabella, who was pretending to sip her tea but clearly eavesdropping. You softened your tone, mindful of her presence. “Dad, Natasha’s not just a rockstar. She’s more than that. We connect in ways that I haven’t felt before. She’s not like the others.”

Nick’s gaze didn’t soften. “I know the type. They can be... unpredictable.”

You let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “She’s different. I promise. She makes me happy.”

His expression remained neutral, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He jogged to the other side of the court, sending the ball flying back toward you. “I’m sure she’s got her charms. But you're my daughter. I need to know you're with someone who will treat you right. Someone who can handle all this,” he gestured to the life he'd essentially built for you.

You caught the ball and paused momentarily, considering your father’s words. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but this is my decision. And I really think Natasha’s someone worth taking a chance on.”

Nick set his racket down, his arms crossing in a familiar stance. “Alright, I’ll meet her.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t expected that so soon.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If she’s serious about you, I want to see it myself. I’ve got to meet this Natasha.”

You felt a sense of relief, but that underlying tension was still over you. It wasn’t just about Natasha proving herself to your father; it was about you figuring out where your relationship was headed. You hadn’t even begun to put all the pieces together in your mind, but now, with your dad’s approval, it felt like things were moving faster than you could keep up with.

“Well, looks like you’re going to have to start warming up to the idea,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Nick just grunted, grabbing his racket again. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

"She's really nice, Papa Nick," Isabella joined in. "We went to the movies last week, and she bought me the biggest-sized popcorn."

"Is that so?" Nick raised a brow. "Have you met her, Jen?" He looked to your mom for her answer.

"I have not,"

"Hmm," Nick hummed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. When is she free?"

"Tomorrow," You replied.

"Perfect. Tomorrow then," He decided.

Good luck to both of you.

***

To say that this brunch was awkward was an understatement. Your father, ever the master of subtle intimidation, had given Natasha the cold shoulder despite your repeated pleas for him to ease up. He wasn’t outright rude or cruel—Nick Fury didn’t operate that way—but his protective instincts were dialed up to eleven. A quiet comment here, a lingering stare there—it was enough to make even you, a mid-twenties divorcee with a sharp tongue, squirm.

Natasha, for her part, seemed unfazed. She sat next to you at the long dining table, her posture relaxed, her green eyes scanning the room with genuine interest. She’d earlier complimented the house’s mid-century charm, admiring the collection of vinyl records your dad kept in pristine condition. Now, she was nursing her coffee, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the cup, looking every bit the calm rockstar you’d come to admire.

“So, Natasha,” your dad’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual but carrying an edge, you knew all too well. He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was one of his clients sitting across the negotiation table. “Did you go to college?”

Natasha glanced at you briefly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips before she turned to your dad. “I didn’t,” she admitted, her voice steady. “I was already touring in small venues with the band by the time I finished high school. It was a different path, but one I’m proud of.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “No regrets about that?”

Natasha shook her head, her eyes meeting your dad's. She didn't shy away from the challenge.

"I'm not a person who regrets. Not if it means I'm doing what I love."

Your dad hummed, seeming to consider her words. You held your breath, watching the exchange closely. For a moment, it was silent, save for the clinging of your mom's fork against her plate.

"Do you value education?" He questioned.

"I do,"

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say I want the best for my daughter and granddaughter. They deserve nothing less than that."

Natasha nodded, her gaze unwavering. "With all due respect, sir, I believe the same."

"Hmm." Your dad hummed. "You're very direct." Your father nodded slowly, clearly weighing her words. “The music industry’s not exactly a walk in the park. A lot of people get chewed up and spit out.”

Natasha met his gaze without flinching. “That’s true. But I’ve got good people around me and learned how to stay grounded. I’ve also learned how to be better as an artist and person.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Natasha had a way of handling the pressure that you envied, and seeing her hold her own with your father was impressive.

Your dad didn't look away, but you could tell he was contemplating her words.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" He asked bluntly.

Natasha didn't even flinch. "I care deeply about your daughter, sir. She's one of the most genuine people I've met, and I value her input. Her opinion matters to me. I enjoy spending time with her."

Nick's face softened, but only slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. So you understand my hesitation."

Natasha nodded. "Of course. And I'd never disrespect or disregard your family."

"Daddy, do you have to ask her so many questions?" You sighed.

"I'm just trying to get to know the person who's going to spend a lot of time with my grandbaby," He shrugged. "You understand."

"Yes," Natasha responded.

"What are your parents like?" Your father inquired, changing the topic.

"My mother is a science teacher," Natasha said. "She lives in Jersey. I call her twice a week."

"And your father?"

Natasha's jaw tightened. "I haven't spoken to my father since I was sixteen,"

"Why is that?" Your father asked.

Natasha shifted slightly in her chair, her gaze lowering for the first time. "He and my mom got divorced when I was younger. After the divorce, he didn't want anything to do with me."

"Oh," Nick's brow furrowed.

"He wasn't the best man," Natasha's tone was firm, her gaze returning to meet your dad's. "But my mom did a great job raising my sister and me. She always made sure I had a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, and she instilled good morals in us. She taught me how to be a strong woman, and I'm thankful for her every day."

Natasha’s words seemed to strike a chord with Nick. He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he considered her answer. You could tell he wasn’t expecting that level of candor or the quiet pride with which Natasha spoke about her mom.

“Sounds like your mom did right by you,” he finally said, a hint of approval in his tone.

“She did,” Natasha replied with a small, genuine smile. “She’s one of the strongest people I know.”

The room seemed to settle momentarily, the tension loosening just enough for your mom to jump in. She had been quietly observing up to this point, sipping her tea with a soft smile. Now, her curiosity sparked.

“You mentioned you have a sister?” Jen asked, her tone warm and inviting.

Natasha turned her attention to her, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yelena. She’s studying at the University of Cambridge right now. International Relations major. She’s brilliant, honestly. Way smarter than I ever was at her age.”

“Cambridge,” Jen echoed, clearly impressed. “That’s no small accomplishment. You must be proud.”

“I am,” Natasha said with a nod. “She worked really hard to get there. We’re close, so I always cheer her on from here.”

Jen smiled, clearly charmed, and even Nick seemed to appreciate the answer. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his coffee cup before leveling his gaze at Natasha again.

“So, you’ve got a smart sister, a strong mom,” he said. “What about you? You know good music?”

You groaned inwardly, recognizing the shift in his tone. Nick Fury’s “test” voice was unmistakable, and you braced yourself for the next question.

Natasha, however, didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’d like to think so. Music’s kind of my whole life.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite artist?”

It was a direct, deceptively simple Nick Fury question designed to put someone on the spot.

Natasha didn’t flinch. She smiled, considering her answer momentarily before replying, “It depends on the day. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours is one of my all-time favorites, but I also love modern stuff. Brandi Carlile, Hozier... sometimes even Billie Eilish when I’m in the right mood.”

Nick nodded slowly, clearly evaluating her response. "What about people that look like me?"

"Dad," you warned, feeling your temper flare.

Natasha's smile didn't fade; she took his question in stride.

"Muddy Waters," Natasha replied, her voice filled with confidence. "Aretha Franklin. Nina Simone."

"Ahh," Nick nodded approvingly, a hint of surprise registering on his face. "I like that. When's your next album coming out?"

"Well, we have a few tracks in the worse. Should be done in the next few months," Natasha wiped her mouth. Discussing music put her at ease. This was her territory. "We have a couple of songs we're still debating about. Actually, we're looking at y/n for the vocals. I was going to mention it to you when we had a moment alone."

"Wanda already did," You nodded.

"You talked to Wanda?" She looked at you.

"Yes, we exchanged numbers at the party," You shrugged. "We talk all the time."

"Of course you do," She muttered.

"Well, how do you feel about the song y/n? "Jen asked.

"I'm a little nervous," You admitted.

"She's got a great voice," Natasha praised. "She's a natural. The song's a perfect fit."

"That's not the issue," You sighed.

"Oh?" Nick perked up.

You sighed, glancing at your parents, who were waiting expectantly. Natasha’s praise was sweet but didn’t erase the knot of hesitation tightening in your chest.

“It’s not that I don’t like the song,” you started, fiddling with your napkin. “Or that I don’t think it’s a great opportunity.”

“Then what is it?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but curious.

“It’s...” You hesitated, glancing at your dad, who was watching you closely now. “I’ve put singing behind me for a reason. I worked hard to separate myself from that world, to build something on my own. And I don’t want anyone thinking—”

“Thinking what?” Natasha leaned in, her tone patient but firm.

“That we’re together because I want to boost my career,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve seen those kinds of PR stunts a million times. They’re transparent and cheap, and I don’t want to look like... that.”

"That's completely understandable," Natasha said. She was content to leave it there. She knew firsthand how to handle this topic for you.

"Well, let's hear the song." Your dad suggested.

"Dad..." You began.

"Before you say no to it, at least hear it," He shrugged. "I have a studio in the guest house. Surely Natasha has her music loaded and ready." You knew what this was. He was testing the both of you. He was mostly trying to push you but also gauge Natasha's knowledge of music. This would be interesting.

****

An hour later, Natasha sat at the mixing board, her fingers flipping switches and turning knobs. A laptop propped up nearby displayed Wanda’s face over FaceTime, her expression focused as she listened intently. Nick sat off to the side, arms crossed but intrigued as Natasha played the first track. He didn’t say much, but the way his brows furrowed in thought spoke volumes.

You sat on a low couch a few feet away, curled up with a notebook. Mostly, you’d stayed quiet, content to watch the interplay between your dad and Natasha. It was rare to see him this interested in someone else’s craft—rarer still for him to keep his opinions to himself for more than five minutes.

As the song wound down, Natasha leaned back in her chair and glanced at Wanda on the screen. “What do you think? Too much reverb on the bridge?”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I like it. It gives the vocals more weight. What about layering the guitar riff in the second verse, though? Feels like it could use a little more punch there.”

“Good call,” Natasha nodded, making a note on a pad beside her.

Nick leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “You’re not a producer, are you?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not officially, no. But I’ve spent enough time in studios to pick up a thing or two.”

Nick didn't look impressed.

"I'm the creative force," She smirked. "If we want it, I can do it."

He grunted.

You glanced at your dad, wondering if he would bring up the song you were supposed to record. The question was evident on his face, but he hesitated to voice it.

Wanda, however, didn't have the same reservations. She was always the one to ask the hard questions, especially if the answers mattered.

"Are you going to record the song, or what?"

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"I might have written down a few lyrics that fit me better," You acknowledged. You stood to be given the camera. "I'm not saying no, but I want the song to represent me as well. That's all."

"That's fair," Wanda nodded.

"We can try it out right now if you want?" Nick suggested. "Let's see how good your pen actually is."

"It's certainly improved since you last heard it, old man." You jested. Natasha began to play the music and offered you the floor to give constructive criticism. "Well, if you're going to lean into the whole crossover thing, it should feel more R&B. Subtle."

Natasha immediately adjusted the track, tweaking the tempo and softening the guitar riff. The harder punk elements faded into a smoother, almost sensual melody aligned more with an R&B vibe. She glanced at you as she worked, her expression open and eager for feedback.

“Like this?” she asked, her fingers moving expertly across the board.

“Closer,” you said, stepping further into the room. “The drumline should be heavier but not overpowering. Something you feel in your chest, you know?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’ve got an ear for this.”

“She does,” Natasha agreed, her voice carrying a note of pride. “She hears music differently. It’s why I wanted her on this track.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, but you focused on the task. “And the bridge—it needs to soar. It's like a release before the last chorus. Build up, then let it break down smooth.”

Natasha adjusted the track again, layering in a subtle drumbeat and tweaking the synths to give the bridge the lift you described. She played it back, and the room filled with the revised sound.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you said, nodding. “That feels more like it.”

“Damn,” Wanda said through the camera, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s good.”

You opened your notebook to the page you'd scribbled on. You sat next to Natasha, showing her the lyrics. "I think we should be more of a duet. Obviously, Wanda will be there, but..."

Natasha looked at the lyrics, then at you.

"We're already a duo,"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me," She winked.

"Perfect," Wanda chimed in.

"This is the new bridge," You hummed along with the music, letting Natasha play the music.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes."

Your voice laced each line with a hint of vulnerability, and Natasha watched intently, her fingers lightly tapping against her chair to the beat as she mouthed the lyrics along with you.

The pre-chorus was next, soft but building:

"I can admit when I'm hiding from you,

But you see right through my disguise."

The music swelled, and your voice dropped to a raspy, sultry whisper.

"Baby, when I'm with you, I can't hide."

You glanced up at Natasha, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intense, and there was a familiar intensity in the way her jaw flexed. She seemed lost, but her lips parted ever so slightly.

"I think that's great," Wanda's voice boomed through your reverie as the music faded.

"It's certainly something," Your dad smirked from his spot in the corner.

"Natasha, what do you think?" You asked. "Does it seem too r&b for you guys?"

"Are you kidding me? You nailed it. It's perfect." Natasha gave you a thumbs-up. "We need to record this, babe. That was really great."

Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, still tapping a rhythm on her thigh. "So, are you in?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her anticipation.

You hesitated for a beat, not because you doubted the song but because of what it represented—a step into the spotlight you'd carefully avoided for years. Of course, this could all go the opposite way. You could fade back into oblivion, and the song wouldn't even chart. Somehow, you knew you had a hit on your hands. Your gaze flickered to your dad, sitting back in his chair with a knowing smirk.

"You knew this would happen, didn’t you?" you asked him, crossing your arms playfully.

Nick shrugged, his grin widening. "I knew the moment you heard the track, you couldn’t walk away. You’ve got the itch, kid. It’s in your blood."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to Natasha, you said, "Yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it."

Natasha’s face lit up with a grin, and she stood. "You won’t regret it," she said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"I better not," you teased, though your excitement started to bubble beneath the surface.

From the corner of the room, Wanda’s voice came through the speaker. "Finally! This is going to be amazing."

Natasha chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "She’s right. This is just the beginning."

Nick clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. "Well, now that we’re all on the same page, let’s record this before you second-guess yourself."

You rolled your eyes again but nodded. "Fine. But if this blows up and I’m on the cover of People next month, I’m blaming all of you."

"Deal," Natasha said, her arm still around you as she leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a murmur, just for you. "But something tells me you’ll love every second of it."

*****

Later that evening, after the studio session and brunch with your parents, you invited Natasha back to your place. You weren't ready to let her go, reveling in her presence and warmth. You and Natasha found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. The air was still charged with the session's energy, and you couldn't shake your feelings.

Natasha handed you a cup of tea, her fingers brushing yours briefly. "For the nerves," she said with a small smile.

You laughed softly, taking the mug and curling up on the plush couch. "I’m not nervous. Just... processing."

She sat beside you, close but not too close, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch. "Processing what?"

"Everything. I don’t know," you said, sighing. "I thought I was done with all this, you know? But, here I am."

Natasha nodded, sipping her tea and letting the silence hang.

You continued, "I mean, I have a good life. I have a good job, friends, my own place."

"And now a kick-ass duet," Natasha added.

"Yeah, it is really great," You nodded. "Without me. You and Wanda are great songwriters."

"You're not so bad yourself." She grinned. "You have to meet our new manager. Mitch Lester."

"Mitch Lester," You tried it on your tongue. You narrowed your eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," You shook your head. "She manages a couple of my clients."

"Is that good or bad for us?" Natasha tilted her head.

"It's great. She's great," You nodded.

You smiled softly, leaning back into the couch, letting the warmth of Natasha’s presence settle around you. The way she talked to you and never hesitated to share or ask questions were things you didn’t take for granted. In the past, you had been with people who avoided the deeper conversations and let things fester instead of speaking up. But Natasha was different. She didn’t shy away from the difficult topics. In fact, it seemed like she embraced them.

"I’m glad you came to meet my parents," you said, quiet but sincere. "I know it wasn’t easy, but you didn’t flinch."

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined as she considered your words. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. Your family means something to me because you mean something to me."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in her voice. The fact that Natasha didn’t just show up out of obligation but because she wanted to connect with you on a deeper level was something you hadn’t expected but needed. You never thought that kind of honesty would feel so right.

"I think that’s why I like us," you said, your voice a little more confident now. "You always let me in. You communicate with me. You never make me guess or wonder what you're thinking."

Her lips twitched into a smile, a small chuckle escaping her. "I try to keep it simple," she said with a wink. "No games."

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease even more. How she looked at you and made you feel seen was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

"You really don’t hold back, do you?" you teased, feeling lighter and more at ease than you had in weeks.

"No reason to," Natasha replied. She moved a little closer, her knee brushing against yours. "I’ve always been more straightforward. With you... it’s easy."

It was easy. That was the truth of it. You didn’t have to question Natasha’s intentions, and that made everything feel smoother and more natural than you could’ve anticipated.

"You know, I’m happy," you said, your voice softening. "Like, genuinely happy. I don’t think I’ve felt this way in a while."

Natasha’s expression softened, her hand subtly brushing against yours. "I’m happy too, Y/N. It’s just... easy, isn’t it?"

You nodded, eyes meeting hers. "Yeah. It is."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that came from mutual understanding, from a connection that didn’t need words. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself just feel—letting the moment unfold, enjoying the simplicity of being with someone who saw you, truly saw you, and accepted you as you were.

"I love you," Natasha said smoothly. Your eyes widened as you tried to process what she'd said. She leaned closer to you, her lips ghosting over yours, the tension palpable.

"I...I love you too." You said with such sincerity Natasha almost swooned. This felt right. You didn't want to think about how long you'd been dating or whether or not things would go bad. Here, in this moment, you were comfortable with each other. You loved her.

Natasha captured your lips with her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. The kiss was passionate and fierce, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She was fire, and you were drawn to her like a moth.

"You said it back," Natasha said her voice husky. She pushed you to lie gently on the couch.

"I said it back," You giggled. "I do love you."

Natasha groaned softly, her lips trailing a path down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched into her touch, feeling your body responding to her. You were two magnets drawn to each other and couldn't resist the pull.

Natasha's hand slid beneath your shirt, her fingertips tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"This is real for me," She whispered. "You and me. It's real."

"I know," You murmured, your eyes locked on hers. You could feel her emotions in how her hands roamed your body, how her lips sought yours, and how her breath hitched when your fingertips brushed her skin.

She kissed you again, this time with an intensity that left you breathless.

"It's real for me too."

This is the part where we gear up for some real rockstar Hollywood shit to go on in the next chapters. ---> next part

#black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 year ago

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The Holidays are Better With You - S.Snape

Summary - The potions master and the muggle studies professor are missing during dinner on Christmas Eve. A certain cat animagus takes it upon herself to find the pair, only to find the two of them enjoying some quality time in the Astronomy Tower.

Word Count - 617

Warnings - female reader, use of Y/N, Minerva is the last one to find out a secret

Author's Note - This is a little later than I wanted but welcome to day Twelve! All of my classwork is done so I am free from college until my winter class starts. I have 8 days of freedom to try and write as much as I can so stay tuned and enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

Severus Snape, even just the name of the man would send a shiver down any students’ spine. However, these students never knew the man he was deep down, the man he buried because of countless trauma and heartache. The other professors knew who he actually was because most of them taught him when he was at Hogwarts himself. What they never realized was the fact that he was absolutely smitten with the muggle studies professor.

The two had grown up together, they used to do everything together, even at Hogwarts. Both of them had been sorted into Slytherin, their housemates seeing them in the same corner of the common room more often than not. The two of them still found a way to isolate themselves in a different area, spending time together in the astronomy tower.

As most of the students had returned home, Severus and Y/N had stayed at Hogwarts with the other professors. At dinner on Christmas Eve, Minerva had noticed that the two older Slytherins were missing, so she took it upon herself to go find them. She searched everywhere, her final spot to search was the Astronomy tower. She thought that it was a good time to transform herself into a cat so that way she could be a little more stealthy. Due to her new found stealth, she could walk quieter into the tower where she heard the voices of the two missing professors.

“It’s beautiful up here, with all the snow,” Y/N had said, turning to the man beside her.

“I hate the snow,” He had said, winding his arms around her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

“I know you do.”

Minerva quietly approached the pair watching as their lips met. She almost jumped in surprise. “I love you, Severus Snape. Happy Christmas.”

“I love you, Y/N Snape. The holidays are so much better with you,” Severus responded, taking note of a certain cat lurking by their feet, “Minerva, if you wanted to join us, you could have just asked.”

The Gryffindor transformed herself back with a grin on her face. “You’re married! I thought you had a thing for Lily Potter. I would have never guessed that you were infatuated with Y/N,” Minerva exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s always been Y/N. She knows me better than myself," he admitted.

“And he knows me better than myself,” She added in a chipper tone, just happy to be in the arms of her love and chatting with a dear friend. They stood in the tower for hours just talking, more like Minerva asking them questions about their relationship and then answering.

They talked until the moon was high in the sky, the time officially reaching midnight. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Minerva, if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the start of the holiday with my husband. Happy Christmas and goodnight,” Y/N excused herself and her husband as they went off to his quarters. Minerva left at the top of the tower with a gentle smile on her face, feeling a sense of pride for the couple.

The sneaky professor had too decided to turn in for the night, not before mentioning the couple to Sybil and Albus.

“I had predicted and knew about this years ago. Where have you been?” Sybil asked her friend.

“I was their witness when they got married, they needed one and asked me. I’m surprised you didn’t know Minerva. You do tend to know everything and all of the gossip,” Albus chimed in.

“Was I the last to find out? How did I not know about them?”

“You aren’t the last, the students are.”

#harry potter #professor snape #pro snape #snape fanfiction #severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape #snape fandom #severus #severus snape imagine #pro severus snape #severus x reader #pro severus #snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape x y/n #snape x you

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bugs013 · 9 months ago

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“She’s my girlfriend.”

Janis ‘Imi’ike x short tempered!fem!reader

Not my pics

Warnings- Regina being a jerk, arguing, fighting, janis just being a sweet comforting gf. I think thats all but lmk if i’m wrong!

A/N- This is honestly mostly Regina x reader but oh well. This idea just came to me randomly lol. Might write a part two with more Janis and less Regina lol.

You and Janis have been dating for 2 weeks now, you got together over spring break so no one really knew yet besides your family’s and close friends.

You were at your locker getting your things for your next class when an arm snakes around your waist making you turn your head to see your girlfriend. “Hey baby.” You smile as you close your locker. “Hey.” You kiss her before you heard that voice. “Well well well.” Oh great, here we go. You roll your eyes as does Janis. “What do you want Regina?” Janis said, both of you turning around to face the blonde. “Who’s this?” She asks, looking you up and down. That makes you roll your eyes again but before you can snap back with a snarky comment Janis beats you to it. “She my girlfriend.” “Aw you finally found someone that will put up with you?” Regina says with a fake pout. “Hey, uh, wait what’s your name again? Never mind i don’t care, did you know you’re little princess here likes to play with fire?” She says, giving Janis that shit eating grin of hers. “Look don’t even try any bull shit with me miss ‘queen bitch’, i know what you did to Janis oh and by the way your a piece of shit for that, but i will not put up with any of your nonsense.” You snap back. “Babe-” Janis starts but you cut her off. “No, no i’m not dealing with it. She walks all over everyone at this stupid school and I’m tired of it.” “Ooo, looks like you got yourself a feisty one.” Regina says, unfazed by your words. You were ready to attack her at this point but Janis grips your waist a bit tighter. “Regina, just go.” Your jaw clenched as she walked away, your eyes following her every move. “Hey, baby look at me.” Janis says then she grips your chin gently and turns your head to look at her. “Breathe, she’s only messing with you because of me.” You roll your eyes. “She’s a bitch, not just to you but everyone. It pisses me off.” “I know love, i know. But she just wants attention, she wants to get a reaction and getting mad is only giving her what she wants.” You sigh and nod, she places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Now come on let’s get to class.” She took your hand and the two if you walked to your next class, which lucky for you, you shared said class with Janis.

~~~~

It’s been weeks, weeks! And Regina still tries to pull any strings she can at any time she can. She’s dug deep into your history just to find something on you, she came out with nothing but stupid things from elementary school that wouldn’t help her much, she did find one thing though, you have a short temper. You get angry quickly and now that she knows that she’s gonna push all your buttons.

You were walking down the hall after asking to go to the restroom when you felt a hand on you shoulder, spinning you around to face her there was Regina with that stupid smirk on her face. “Hey Y/N.” You shrugged her hand off your shoulder. “Oh look you finally learned my name.” Regina chuckles. “I see your little pet isn’t with you.” Her words made you blood start boiling already. “I’m not doing this with you Regina.” You started to walk away. “Aw poor baby can’t handle a little chat? I know you’re a loner, or should i say loser, but i just wanted to talk.” She says, you clenched your fist by your sides as you turn around. “Fine. What could you possibly want to talk about?” She grins her shit eating grin. “I just wanted to warn you how crazy your little girlfriend is.” Your fists tighten. “Stop talking about her.” “Aw why not? You know she used to like me right? She was so obsessed.” Your jaw clenched and you got closer to her. “She was never obsessed with you. And even if she was she’s not anymore so just leave her alone.” Regina scoffed. “Yeah right, everyone is obsessed with me, haven’t you noticed?” You rolled your eyes. “That’s not true, you’re a bitch and everyone knows it.” “Ouch what cruel words of yours.” She mocked. You wanted to pounce on her, your fists and jaw was clenched tightly, you take a deep breath as you turn to walk away, trying the take the advice Janis had taught you before. “Ooo, did i hit a nerve?” You keep walking, trying to take deep breaths, your nails dug into your palms so hard that you were almost bleeding. “So angry,” Regina started. “It’s almost cute.” And that was it, you just couldn’t take it, you fast walked back to her and before either of you even realized your fist had already connected with her face. She stumbled back with a small yelp of pain, her hand going over her eye. But when she stabilized herself again she glared at you. “You bitch.” She said before then the two of you were fighting in the middle of the hall. It went on for a good moment. “Woah, woah, woah! Girls! Stop!” A teacher shouts as he ran over, pulling the two of you apart.

~~~~

You sat in a chair in the front office, leg bouncing, chewing on your bottom lip, decently dark bruises on your face, and probably other places that you haven’t seen yet, you knew your parents would be pissed, and what would Janis say? You didn’t know because even though you wanted to text her you were afraid to.

When your mom walked into the office you can see the angry radiating off of her. Great.

The second the car doors closed she immediately started. “What the hell were you thinking?! Why did you do it?” You rolled your eyes. “I wanna go home.” “Why did you do it Y/N.” She says more sternly. “She was being a bitch. She has been for weeks now. I couldn’t take it and she wasn’t just being a jerk to me she was talking about Janis too.” Your mom sighed, lucky for you she loved Janis and she can’t lie she is a bit proud that you would take up for yourself and others. “Well you’re still grounded, for 2 weeks.” You were honest surprised she dropped it so easily. “Wait, what? Nothing else? Just 2 weeks of being grounded?” “Do you want it to be longer?” She snaps back as she starts the car. You quickly just shut your mouth and went with it.

~~~~

You walk into school the next day, surprisingly you didn’t get in much trouble over the fight, you had a bruised up face as did Regina and you were getting tons of looks and you hated it. You walked with your head down until soon Janis was right in front of you, lifting your chin to look at her. “Oh baby…” She frowned, cupping your face as her thumbs glide over your bruises ever so gently. “I’m fine.” “I never said you weren’t but this looks pretty painful.” You shrug. “It’s not that bad.” She sighs. “Why did you fight her? I told you she just wants a reaction.” “I know but she deserved it either way, i wasn’t gonna let her walk all over me any longer.” She sighed then nods. “I get it.” There’s silence for a moment until she smiles and says. “You look pretty hot for someone with a bruised face.” You smile with an eye roll, she chuckles and plants a kiss to your lips then a few around your face and back to your lips. “Ok, ok, chill, we’re still in school y’know?” You said pulling away and she laughs lightly as she pulls away. “Well we could just…ditch?” She says with a smirk. “Hm, tempting.” You paused, thinking. “Y’know what? Fuck it, i don’t want to see Regina again anyway.” She smiles and with one last kiss the two of you then left.

#janis ‘imi’ike #janis ‘imi’ike x reader #mean girls 2024 #auli’i cravalho #regina george

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criminalamnesia · 1 year ago

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The One I’d Come Looking For

warnings: mentions of blood and death, mentions of past trauma, no use of y/n, reader has an unnamed sister, reader has powers and goes by “phantom”, not proofread

summary: you and peter had fallen out months ago because of your different lifestyles. now, he’s back in your life and trying to save you from Kraven’s hunters.

author’s note: I’m down bad for insomniac!peter. anyways I wrote this quickly and in a blur. it’s also my first step back into writing for fun in a while so I’m sorry if it’s awful and messy! I definitely started this with a different ending in mind but what’s done is done.

—

You thought you’d put your life as a criminal behind you. You’d been doing good for yourself without the help of your powers. You’d gotten out— but Kraven pulled you right back in.

You were on the run now, constantly looking over your shoulder as you attempted to find a way out of New York. It’s times like these you’d wish those experiments had given you the power of flight— maybe even invisibility. Anything to get you out quickly and unscathed.

Your phone rings for the third time in ten minutes. You don’t need to check the caller ID to see who’s calling. You know it’s one of the spiders— probably Miles, as you and Peter had a complicated history.

You ignore the ringing in favor of focusing on pushing the needle into the skin of your thigh to sew up the gash there. Kraven’s hunters were no joke. You’d faced worse, but they’d caught you by surprise. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully, the next your eyes are flying open to the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

You’d taken out most of them as you escaped, but one had taken a sword to your thigh. You were lucky— those blades were sharp enough to cut through bone. The one that hit you had skimmed you, but it had still cut deep enough to need stitches.

You bit your bottom lip as you worked on stitching yourself up. Your first aid skills were a little rusty, but it was almost like riding a bike. You never forget how to patch yourself up after a fight, right?

The phone rang again and you scowled. You should’ve left the damn thing behind, but maybe your subconscious made you take it in hopes that he’d call.

You and Peter hadn’t spoken in months, not since you stepped back from a life of villainy. In hindsight, it’s ironic. Peter hated your lifestyle when you were together— it’s one of the reasons things ended. You’d think he’d be interested once you were on the straight-and-narrow, but he was radio silent.

You could understand. You had done a number on him— and he on you.

Again, the phone rings. You pull the needle through your skin a final time, tying the thread and reaching for the bandages beside you. A knock on the door startles you out of your thoughts.

The bandages are forgotten as you raise your hands. Green light swirls around your fingertips. You’re ready to send a barrage of green spikes through the air when whoever is knocking speaks.

“Phantom, I know you’re in there.”

Peter.

“It’s open,” You sigh, dropping your hands and turning your attention back to the bandages.

The door slowly creeps open a crack to reveal an unfamiliar suit. The red and blue you once knew are gone, replaced by an eery black that unsettles you. You raise your eyebrows as he enters the room and pushes the door shut behind him.

“New suit?” You ask, looking back down at your leg as you start wrapping the bandage. You grit your teeth as you pull the fabric tight around your thigh. You couldn’t afford to start bleeding again.

“Why don’t you answer your phone?” He counters, his voice lower than you remember. It almost didn’t sound like him.

“Kinda busy here, Pete. Fuckin’ hunters know what they’re doing. I’m sure they’ve got my trail again, it’s only a matter of time before they come busting in here. I’ve gotta patch myself up and get going— excuse me if I don’t have time for chatting,” you huff, not bothering to look at him as he approaches you.

“I saw them on my way over,” he says. “Said hi.”

“Did you?” You said, ripping the last of the bandages and patting your thigh. You’d have to stay ahead of them now. You’d lose a foot race, but you may win with some distance. “How kind.”

“I was trying to buy you some time.”

“I don’t need your help, Peter,” you spoke, pushing yourself off of the floor while minding your hurt leg. “I’ve been doing fine on my own.”

“You should be grateful,” he said. There was an angry edge to his voice, and it was unnerving. You’d never heard him speak in such a tone, especially towards you. No matter how mad you made him when the two of you were together, he never reached that point.

“Should I?” You questioned, getting a good look at him now. He still had the white spider you recognized, but the rest of the suit was a slimy looking black. “I don’t owe you shit, Spider-Man,” you threw the title in his face, watching as the off-white slits of his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your help. I can handle myself— I have been handling myself for months, and last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me. So, why are you standing here now?”

He exhaled sharply. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you gave a small laugh and shook your head. “This angsty, brooding act isn’t cute, Pete. Tell me what you want or get lost.”

“I’m trying to save you,” he spat as his face started to come into view. Black tendrils of the suit slinked away until his mask was completely gone. There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize.

“Save me from what, the hunters? Little too late for that, incase you haven’t noticed,” you gestured a hand to your thigh.

“Kraven,” he spoke, his voice rough. “He’s killing villains. He’ll kill you.”

“I’m not scared of Kraven or his hunters,” you said, reaching down to swipe your bag off of the floor. You shrugged one of the straps over your shoulder and looked back at Peter. “And you should know I don’t need saving.”

“Can you not be so stubborn for once?” Annoyance was clear in his tone as one of his hands reached out to wrap lightly around your wrist.

“Since when do you care about my well-being?” You countered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and stepping around him. “We didn’t end on good terms. We haven’t spoken in months. I don’t think you could hate anyone, that’s not who you are—” you gave a small laugh as you shook your head, “but I’m pretty sure you got close to hating me.”

“I never hated you,” he told you, and his voice almost sounded normal again, but you were already walking towards the door. Your hand grasped the handle, pulling it open, but making no move to step out.

You ignored him. Although you would never tell him, those words meant a lot to you. You had loved Peter— for fuck’s sake, you were going to marry him. But you got caught up in some bad shit, and he couldn’t forgive you for it. You didn’t expect him to.

The last time you had seen him, you’d limped away. Broken and bleeding, abandoning him on a rooftop, ignoring his pleas for you to do the right thing.

You had never raised a fist to him, nor he to you. In fact, he had saved you from death at the hands of Kingpin that night— and still you’d finished the job you were assigned.

The clarity that came after was crushing. Missing him was crushing, but you were too proud and he was too tired. You know that if you’d gone back to him, he would have eventually forgiven you. Peter was good like that. It was one of the reasons you had loved him.

It was one of the reasons you still loved him.

“Goodbye, Spider-Man.” You spoke softly before stepping into the hall and shutting the door behind you.

You hobbled down the hallway and desperately tried to ignore the pain in your leg. The hunters wouldn’t stop just because you were injured, meaning you couldn’t stop either.

Whatever. You’d been through worse.

As you approached the end of the hall, the irises of your eyes shifted to a light green. It was a subtle tell that you were using your powers. As if the occasional glowing-green structures you created weren’t enough of a tell.

You shifted through the wall, your eyes fading back to their original color as you inhaled deeply. You knew Peter was probably still lurking somewhere close by. He was never one to sit back and let something happen, especially if it involved someone he cared for.

Well, used to care for. You supposed it was just the heroic-ness of him that kept him glued to your shadow. He couldn’t leave in good conscience, not when the hunters were on your tail.

You limped deeper into the alleyway you’d shifted into. It reeked of rotten food and you swore you saw a rat run by, but life on the run was never glamorous. Besides, the darkness of the alley made you feel the tiniest bit safer, even if you knew the hunters had tech that would make the dark surrounding you look like daylight.

Speaking of…

An arrow whizzed by your head, embedding itself into the metal of the overflowing dumpster a few feet ahead. You sighed.

“Can’t you guys take a hint?” You turned and raised your hands, ready to defend yourself, and—

“Run!”

Peter had been following you. He landed between you and the quickly approaching squad of hunters, sparing you a glance over his shoulder before turning to unleash his wrath on Kraven’s lackeys.

“Can’t run even if I wanted to, Spider!” You shouted, shrugging off your bag and tossing it to the side.

What happened next was a blur.

Green light swirled between your raised fingers, materializing into the green spikes you’d almost impaled Peter with ten minutes ago. You sent them flying towards the hunters who weren’t preoccupied with the spider currently ripping them to shreds.

One hunter screamed in pain as one spike met it’s mark, piercing the woman’s abdomen.

Peter may have a no-kill rule, but that didn’t mean you did.

Another grunted as a spike met his shoulder, but he soldiered on with a sword raised.

“Really? Still coming?” You huffed as you formed a sword of your own, the green light it was constructed of illuminating your battlefield.

The man roared a battle cry as he brought his blade down towards you. You parried swiftly, but the man you were fighting was much more experienced with a blade. He swung again, and as you attempted to move out of the way, the blade sliced into your other leg.

“You guys don’t fight fair, huh?” You groaned. Green light dissolved as you lost your focus on your own weapon. Now you were just trying to keep your balance as you dodged the hunter’s strikes by the skin of your teeth.

“Not as strong as we thought,” the hunter spoke as his blade made contact once more, this time cutting into your arm. “Kraven will be disappointed.”

“You caught me on an off day,” you rolled your eyes. “Maybe try again next week?”

“Phantom!”

The shout caught you off guard, and you made a stupid, careless, rookie mistake. You would later blame it on the horrible concoction of events leading to that moment. Peter popping back into your life, the cut on your thigh, and the fatigue you felt after being on the run for days.

Your head turned to follow the voice because you knew it was Peter’s. Old habits die hard, right?

The hunter raised his sword again, and then the world went black.

—

When you woke up, you were in a cage. An honest to god cage. You snorted as you lifted your pounding head from the ground. The hunters took their shtick seriously, you had to give them that.

You blinked your eyes rapidly in an attempt to clear the spots clouding your vision. Probably a concussion. Just another injury to add to the list.

As you slowly pushed your body up into a sitting position, you mentally noted your other injuries. Deep cuts to one arm and both thighs, including the cut you’d stitched— which was now bleeding again. Your right leg also felt broken, which you guessed was something the hunters had done after you’d fallen asleep so you wouldn’t escape.

“Kudos to them for trying,” you mumbled under your breath as you shakily— and very carefully— stood.

You limped to the bars of the cage and grasped onto them for support. As you surveyed your surroundings, you realized you were in a zoo. It almost made you laugh.

“You guys are cute for being so committed to your little hunter thing. Really, it’s adorable,” you spoke as you caught sight of the hunter standing a few feet away.

The woman didn’t acknowledge you. She kept her back towards you as she watched the small fire crackling in front of her.

“Even the spider talks less than you,” a man’s gruff voice startled you. The hunter stepped out of the shadows as he approached the woman by the fire.

“Speaking of the spider,” you called out, “where is he? Do we have adjoining cages, or does he get special treatment?”

The male hunter didn’t bite. He came to a stop beside the woman, leaned down to whisper something into her ear, and then he turned and left.

When the sound of the man’s boots hitting the ground could no longer be heard, the woman turned around. She snarled as she looked at you. One of her hands reached to unsheathe the hunting knife strapped to her hip.

You watched as she began to walk towards you. Your mind raced as you thought of different ways to escape. If she opened your cage, you could use your powers and dispose of her— but how big was this zoo? You had only seen the two hunters, but you weren’t naive enough to believe they were the only ones here.

“Lucky for you,” the woman finally spoke. Her voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “Kraven wants you alive.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Lucky for me.”

The woman raised the knife in one hand and reached the other towards your cage. You struck in an instant.

Green light contrasted the orange of the fire as a spear materialized in your hand. You shoved it forward between the bars of the cage, right into tj woman’s stomach. Before she could attempt a scream, you wrenched the weapon from her gut, raised it in your grasp, and shoved it into her throat.

She dropped to the ground, the only sound escaping her throat a quiet gurgle. You were done playing games— and you didn’t want to prove Peter right. You didn’t need his help. You would get out of here on your own.

You phased through the bars of the cage and raised your hands in anticipation. The only thing you heard was the sound of the fire. It was too quiet.

“Need some help?”

You scowled as you turned your head to look at the man who landed beside you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you spoke.

“You were locked in a cage,” Peter replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the cage. “I think you needed a little help.”

“I’m not in the cage anymore, am I? And whose doing is that?” You retorted as Peter’s face slowly revealed itself.

“You just can’t say thank you, huh?” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you, Peter. I told you to stay out of it. I know you feel like you have to intervene, but you don’t, so—”

“Of course I have to intervene,” he cut you off. “I can’t let you die.” His tone was almost angry as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you doing this because it’s me or because of your need to save people?” You said, and he went quiet.

“You feel like you can’t let this go because you have to save everyone. I get it, Peter. But you don’t have to save me.”

“I can’t let you die,” he repeated, his voice soft. His eyes met yours.

Back in that abandoned house, when you’d seen Peter’s face, he hadn’t seemed like himself. But now, as you stared into his eyes, you saw the Peter you knew. The one you loved.

“Peter—” you began, but he shook his head.

“Just let me talk. The way things ended… it shouldn’t have happened like that. I was angry. First May and then— then you. And you went back and finished that job and I just couldn’t— I couldn’t do it. I could barely look at you.”

He paused, and you waited for him to speak again.

“I didn’t understand it at first, why you did it. But now I do. Ganke found out what you did with that money a few weeks after. I wanted to say something— but you were in the wind, and I knew you didn’t want me to come looking. So, I let you go. I had Ganke keep a lookout for any calls that might’ve related to you, but none ever came. You went clean, and I wanted to reach out, but—”

“Peter, whatever end this whole big speech is coming to, I don’t need to hear it.” You interrupted, and he shook his head.

“No, you do. You weren’t a… good guy. Not all the time. I know that. But some of the things you did, and who you worked for, I understand now. Your sister—”

“How do you know about her?” You spoke, eyes wide.

“Please don’t be mad— I had Ganke do some digging after… everything.”

You were shaking now. Peter knew. He knew everything. He knew that you worked for big bosses like Kingpin because you were sending money to your sister.

He knew that you became a criminal because of your anger and your desperate attempts at finding the man who experimented on you. Mob bosses have connections, and you thought you could work out a deal.

He knew that the reason you still finished that job for Kingpin, even if the villain had almost killed you, was because your sister’s life was at stake.

He knew your sister was dead, and that’s why you had tried to disappear.

“We had our problems when we were together,” Peter said after a beat of silence. “And I’m not excusing your past— but you could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.”

You shook your head. “No, you couldn’t have. He would’ve killed her sooner. Besides, you’re not my therapist, Peter. No one could’ve help me with that anger I felt— that I still feel. I’m still who I was, I’m just trying not to take it out on innocent people anymore. I don’t want to be the reason someone else loses their sister.”

You could hear police sirens in the distance. You gave a small shake of your head as you pushed back the thoughts of your past.

“We should go.”

Peter reached forward, his hand finding solace on your shoulder.

“I can’t forget what you’ve done. I can’t forget the fights and the disagreements between us. But, I also can’t forget the love I have for you. I can’t forget how much I’ve missed you over these past few months. I can’t forget, but I’m willing to forgive.”

Your eyes met his once more. “Peter—”

“I will always come looking for you, over and over again. Even if it takes me a little bit,” he gave a small laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

The sirens were getting closer. You inhaled deeply.

“This doesn’t fix us.” You told him, and he nodded.

“It doesn’t. But maybe one day soon, we can try again.”

A small smile etched its way onto your lips. You gave a small nod as one of your hands came up to rest on his hand.

“Now, let’s get you out of here,” he said as his mask reformed. He moved his hand from your shoulder to you waist and pulled you tightly into his side.

“Still remember how to do this?” He teased, and you laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the fear that comes with your horrible steering.”

“Just for that,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I’m going the long way.”

Peter shot a web and the two of you were pulled into the sky. You held onto him tightly, and even though you knew the two of you had a long way to go, you’d never been more excited to see where the journey would take you.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #Peter Parker/reader #spiderman #spider man x reader #spiderman/reader #insomniac spider man #insomniac games #spider man 2 ps5 #ps5 spiderman #spiderman ps5 #insomniac spiderman #insomniac spiderman x reader #spiderman ps4 #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you

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snailor-bee · 1 year ago

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Marco x NB!Reader / SFW / 2.1k Summary: Marco is finally going to confess to you! If only it would stop going wrong... Notes: Written for @op-xreader-zine! All the art is done by the amazing @issatheartist thank you for working with me on this! ;w;

This was it! Marco was finally going to do it. He was going to walk up to you and confess.

He'd been crushing on you for a while now and it was time. He'd dealt with the teasing from his brothers and the nurses for far too long. Originally Marco had held himself back because he hadn't wanted to ruin what the two of you already had.

Friends, nakama, family.

Still, everyone had insisted that he go for it and had completely ignored his reasonings for maybe why he shouldn't—"Marco, you can't seriously use your rank as an excuse; the only person higher than you is Pops"—so that's how he found his hands sweating, wrapped around a bouquet of flowers.

Maybe it was a bit simple but at this point, Marco figured it was better than nothing. His head felt like a jumbled mess and he hadn't really planned out how he was going to do this but he'd wing it as he went along, all Marco had to do was find you and—

So distracted by his thoughts, he bounced off someone's body made a little oof of pain.

"Marco!" Izou's voice broke through his thoughts. "Watch where you're going. What are you doing?"

"I, uh," he couldn't bring himself to say it. Izou was the ship's gossip and if Marco said he was looking for you in order to confess then you'd hear about it before Marco even got to you. Sweat beaded at his brow as Izou's sharp gaze took him in. Uncharacteristically, Marco knew he looked nervous.

Which might as well have been blood in the water for a shark, when one was dealing with Izou.

Then all at once, Izou's posture softened and he smiled. "Are those for me?? For my birthday!? Oh, you shouldn't have, these are my favorite too!" Still gushing, Izou grabbed the bouquet and Marco was too stunned to stop him.

"A-ah, yes. I was worried you wouldn't like them, yoi," he said, going for a smile. It was a bit strained but Izou didn't seem to notice. Marco cursed himself internally. He'd been so focused on the almost-not-quite-confession, Izou's birthday had completely slipped his mind.

"No, they're perfect ," Izou enthused happily and Marco sighed fondly, letting the anxiety of confronting you fade. He could always do it later.

The next 'attempt' wasn't really an attempt.

Marco had been walking down a street when his inner phoenix noticed a section of smooth rocks. Without too much thought, he reached out and snatched one up. He frequently did this; the drawers in his office were filled with random bits and bobs, shiny pieces of metal, rocks, and other random things that appealed to his phoenix half for whatever reason. Marco never mentioned it to anyone but a few of his brothers who had been around him for years had picked up on it, though they were kind enough not to point it out.

So, without much thought, when he saw you chatting with some other shipmates, Marco ambled over and handed you the rock. "Here, for you."

You raised a brow and looked into your palm before running your thumb over the stone's surface, feeling out the texture.

Inside, his phoenix cooed and Marco was grateful he wasn't in his half-form. He could tell that his tails would be going wild right about now, watching your reaction.

"...Thanks," you said at last, sounding confused before you pocketed the rock and turned back to listen to the story that Ace had been in the process of telling. It didn't deter Marco at all, you had accepted it!

Feeling thrilled somewhere deep in his bones, he barely felt the jab to his ribs.

"Hey," Thatch whispered, "you know they aren't a bird, right?"

Confused, Marco cocked his head. Thatch gestured at you with his chin. "They probably don't know why you just handed them a rock. Shouldn't you be doing more, uh, human courting stuff?"

There was a few seconds of incomprehension before the meaning hit him and Marco felt like dissolving into dust and disappearing forever. He leaned over to bury his head into Thatch's shoulder to cover up the sound of his groan of pain as his brother laughed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, you'll get them next time, birdie."

Next time ended up being a love letter.

Old fashioned? Maybe. But Marco was getting desperate. At least this would be crystal clear.

He'd gone through numerous editions. The trash can in his room was overflowing with failed attempts, bunched up balls of paper scattered around his desk as he tried again and again until he finally felt he had it all down.

Exactly what about you that made him smile, how the simple sight of you lifted his spirits and the sound of your laugh made his chest tight. He'd bared it all.

Walking across the busy deck, the night breeze ruffling his hair, Marco was barely able to return the greetings he got as he passed by scattered groups. He'd locked eyes with you right away and once you noticed him coming, you'd said your goodbyes and were coming to meet him halfway.

The closer and closer the two of you got, the more and more nervous Marco became. The butterflies in his stomach were making him feel like he might throw up. What if you didn't return his feelings? What if you thought the letter was lame?

What if you went to read it right away? Oh fuck , he hadn't thought this through. He didn't want to watch your face as you read the confession, heartfelt though it may be. If you had to turn him down after he poured his heart onto the parchment, Marco really didn't know how he was going to take that.

Saying it to your face, letting you turn him down gently without realizing the true depths of his feeling was way more appealing.

His step faltered before a rush of heat flashed beside him. On instinct he tossed the letter into the roar of fire. Ace was likely showing off and didn't even notice the slight disturbance.

"What was that?" you asked, finally having made your way to him.

"Nothing," Marco said quickly. "Someone did their report so badly, so I had a bunch of corrections but thinking it over I realized I'll just have them redo it. Makes it easier, yoi."

You laughed. "Harsh. I'd hate to be them, putting in all that work for nothing."

Marco shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "Yeah but I'm sure they'll get over it."

"Wow, Marco, you're not very good at this are you?" Ace asked with a snicker. Marco glared, fork paused midway to his mouth. Thatch elbowed him good-naturedly from his side. They were sitting in the galley, the shipmates talking around them creating a symphony of noise that easily hid the conversation from others.

"Good at what, yoi?" Marco asked, placing the fork down. Thatch threw an arm around his shoulders and shook him lightly as Ace's eyes sharpened with glee.

"Now Ace," Thatch said, mockingly sweet, "don't go teasing our resident birdbrain here. He's trying so hard, the poor thing."

"Get off," Marco said, irritated as he pushed at Thatch until he let him go, laughing.

"Think they've even noticed?" Ace asked thoughtfully before shoving something into his mouth and chewing loudly.

Marco opened his mouth to answer but Thatch beat him to it. "Hopefully not, though Marco looking so pathetic has been quite amusing." Thatch batted away his hand before Marco could punch him in the ribs, the bastard.

Grunting with annoyance, Marco looked away just in time to catch you several tables away leaning your head back with a laugh and he stared, heart suddenly in his throat. He couldn't help it, you were just so—

"Plus the whole ships been taking bets at this point," Thatch tacked on and Marco tore his gaze away from you.

"What?!" Marco demanded as Ace hooted joyfully. Thatch shrugged, grinning all the while.

"Maybe you shouldn't look like a lovesick bird all the time and we wouldn't have to take bets on when you finally get your act together. Do not" —Thatch pointed a steak knife menacingly in Ace's direction after a garbled noise had started— "talk with your mouth full. Swallow."

Dutifully, Ace swallowed his barely chewed food and took a second to catch his breath before barrelling on, "Whatcha got planned next, Marco? Anything good?"

"Excuse me? All my ideas have been fine so far!" Two blank looks had his hackles raising but before he could argue more, your voice rang out.

"Hey, Marco!" Immediately he whipped his head up and caught your eye. You waved before you arrived behind Ace, patting him on the shoulder. "I was wondering if we could spar later?"

Quickly, he nodded back. "Yeah, that sounds great!" Embarrassingly, he heard his voice hit a slightly higher pitch, almost as if his voice had cracked. Ace and Thatch did a terrible job at stifling their giggles as Marco felt his face flush traitorously.

"Great!" you enthused, apparently having not noticed. "See you after lunch?"

Not trusting his voice, he nodded and you skipped away happily. Once you were far enough away, Ace and Thatch collapsed into loud laughter, Ace banging on the table as Thatch wheezed out between his laughs, "What are you Marco, twelve ?? What was that?!"

"I hate both of you," Marco grit out between clenched teeth before shoving his half finished tray of food at Ace. "Finish this, I'm leaving, yoi."

"Good luck on your dateeee," Ace managed to yell out before he got too far away. Marco flipped him off over his shoulder.

"So, Marco." You looked uncharacteristically anxious as you fidgeted and looked at everything except him. Marco felt his stomach drop to the deck. What was wrong? You hadn't... noticed had you? Fuck, this was not how he wanted you to find out.

He'd come to find you for your spar after Ace and Thatch had literally laughed him out of the galley. You'd seemed eager enough to see him before dragging him to a quiet part of the deck, mentioning you had something to say first.

Seemingly steeling your nerves, you looked into his eyes and they burned with determination.

"I've liked you for a really long time now. You're literally one of my best friends and more than that you make me feel like I can fly, like nothing could ever hurt me. I didn't really want to mention this and have it ruin our friendship but I can't keep it to myself anymore. Please go on a date with me!"

Time seemed like it stood still as he gaped at you. He could see your cheeks flush, likely with embarrassment at your proclamation but he was still reeling.

Finally, you swallowed. "And if you don't feel the same—"

"No!" he cut in, finally finding his voice. Marco grabbed up your hands, cradling them close. "No, don't. Just, I—" He chuckled with wry amusement before pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. "I'm just a little shocked. I've been trying to ask you out for ages now."

"Wait, really?" you asked, mouth dropping open. He nodded with a smile. There was a strange buzzing in his body, from his toes up to the tips of his ears. Everything felt a little fuzzy, a little warm. He wanted to run around the deck like a teenager again, grab you close and never let go, scream over the railing until he ran out of breath. So many different emotions were raging through him, he was beginning to feel dizzy from the weight of all of them.

Deciding to just pick one, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into his chest, breathing in your scent as he began to chuckle lowly. You joined in and soon the two of you were full-out laughing. When you separated, he brushed a hand against your cheek reverently, giddy that he was able to do so.

"To be honest," Marco began, "I don't think I can spar right now, I feel like my knees are made of jell-o."

You laughed again. "That's okay, I'm feeling the same. Wanna go tell Pops instead?"

Marco ran a hand through his hair, before smiling at you. "Sure. We're about to get the teasing of a lifetime."

You held out a hand and he took it, fingers twining together with yours like they were meant to be.

"We may as well get started," you said back, fondness shining in your eyes and maybe, just maybe, a hint of something more.

#one piece #one piece x reader #marco the phoenix #marco x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #bee writes #bee writing

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akiraruru · 2 years ago

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(๑•̀д•́๑) " 𝘼𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤 "

Included: Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Zhongli, Raiden Ei, gn! Reader

CW: Mentions of drinking.

A/n: Stan twice for better life (stream set me free on Spotify!) Possibly ooc, not proofread

Kaeya:

▶ You know when the bartender serves your drinks? And when you go and get your drink he'll snatch it before you can before giving it to you. I don't know why but I just feel like he'll do this to tease you lol, he doesn't do it often though.

▶ It's really frustrating because it's like when you're about to eat something but your siblings get to it before you. Kaeya finds it funny how your face turns when he does it.

▶ Like imagine you're so excited to get your drink but then BAM snatched.

▶ At first you'd be a tad bit confused because he didn't say anything about it so you'd just kind of ask him why after a while.

▶ When you ask Kaeya about it he'll just laugh it off and say he's just simply teasing you.

"Okay here are your drinks, hope you guys enjoy it" the bartender says while they put down your and kaeya's drink "Thank you " Kaeya says in thanks to the bartender, you went to get your drink but kaeya got it before you, you looked at him in confusion as to what he's doing "Why'd you get my drink?" You ask while he just chuckled and put it back on the table. After a while you've slowly grown used to this particular habit of his.

Diluc:

▶ Diluc has this habit where he would pop out of nowhere behind you and suddenly touch you without saying a word before greeting you hello.

▶ It's kinda creepy too because you don't really know when he arrived behind you because of his quiet ass.

▶ AND AND he would just smile at you innocently as if he didn't just pop out of nowhere and scare you.

▶ Diluc doesn't really get why you get startled because he thought you always knew he was coming right up behind you.

▶ Now this can be real annoying especially if you get startled or scared easily lol.

▶ If you ever tell Diluc about it, he'll try his best to make his presence known less scary.

Since Adelinde was on a day off you were cleaning the dishes after you and Diluc had dinner, after he ate, he excused himself as he had documents to sign so obviously you thought that he was upstairs. Well, you were kinda right but he decided to do them later and came back down to see you washing the dishes, you didn't notice him coming up behind you as you continued to sway your hips while singing. He suddenly puts his hands on your waist causing you to jump and look behind you quickly.

"What do you want to do tonight?"

He asks, you look at him with sightly wide eyes before returning your attention back to washing the dishes.

Albedo:

▶ I will be doing this in modern au because why not.

▶ Albedo has a habit of pointing out your spelling/mistakes in chats.

▶ He would correct them too.

▶ Like it would just be a tiny typo then he's be saying "you spelt ___ wrong"

▶ I love albedo but PLEASE, he's sometimes so logical at times it isn't funny any more.

▶ He will literally notice the slightest mistakes in your grammar. Like you didn't put the comma in the right place? He'll notice.

☑ [name]: Hey 'bedo you coming later?

☑ Albedo: You forgot to add a comma.

▶ Leave them grammar mistakes alone.

☑ [name]: Did you knoo about the homework yesterday?

☑ Albedo: *know. Yes I did, thanks for reminding me.

☑ [name]: okay, it's due tomorrow

Zhongli:

▶ Zhongli's annoying habit is that he sometimes speaks in deep words and would often not say what it means (this is me fr in my native language, I never understood deep words T-T)

▶ You'd be having a normal conversation with him and then he'll say something like 'Mellifluous' and then if you ask him he'll just look at you for a second then go back to what he was talking about.

▶ But if he's feeling generous he'll actually say what it means.

▶ Mellifluous is a word to describe someone's voice as sweet-sounding or musical lol.

▶ These stuff usually happens when he's telling a story that happened when he was still an archon or whenever he's talking about stuff like flowers, history, etc..

▶ It also happens often at tea time! Since that's where he mostly tell his stories and experiences.

▶ While you kinda found it confusing, it was also kinda attractive since he speaks so proper and formal.

"Guizhong is a kind girl, her voice was mellifluous and smooth. It's pleasant to hear" He said as he talked about his old friend Guizhong. "Wait, what's mellifluous?" You ask, not knowing what the word means "Ah.." He just said before looking down at his tea then continues to talk about Guizhong, about how she was when she was still alive. You sat there in confusion.

After a while he finally says what it means "Mellifluous means that someone's voice sounds sweet or pleasant to the ear"

Raiden Ei:

▶ I THINK we know what she does.

▶ Raiden would sometimes steal your mochi/sweets when you aren't looking.

▶ Like for example you got distracted by something, either by a person talking to you or when she purposely distracts you by saying things like "[name] look! There's a cute cat over there"

▶ She'll make sure you're fully distracted before getting a piece and stuffing it in her mouth lol.

▶ Sometimes you can tell she ate a piece because of the residue on the sides of her mouth lol.

▶ If you ever notice a piece is missing and you ask her about it she'll just deny it and say that you already ate it (gaslighting at its fullest)

▶ She'll just look at you confused as if she didn't just sneak a snack into her mouth when you ask her about it 😒.

▶ You can tell she ate it though, but we don't talk about that, you don't have the heart to tell her.

You were munching on some cookies while also giving bites to Ei because you know how much she loves sweet stuff "[name] look is that yae?" Ei says while pointing her finger at something in order to distract you "hm?" You acknowledged as you turned around where her finger was facing, while you were trying to see where Yae is Ei took a cookie or two from the container it was in and quickly ate it "hmm.. I don't see her" You say, not being able to see the pink haired girl. You turn back to your cookies and there was only one left "huh, I swear there were two cookies left" You said while you searched the table, you then turned to Ei and asked "Ei have you-" You cut your self off as Ei looked at you with an innocent face while you notice the crumbs on the corners of her mouth that wasn't there before.

Likes, follows, reblogs, and any kind of feedback is appreciated!

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personwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Bonding

Trust, an invaluable currency earned through daily interactions, whether it be from loved ones or strangers who serve us. It is the foundation that enables nations to maintain harmony and unity.

"You alright?" Soap's voice called your name, pulling you away from your phone.

His eyes softened as they met yours. You glanced back at your phone, realizing that you had been watching the same TikTok for an astonishing twenty minutes.

"What's bothering you?" Soap asked, genuine concern etched on his face as he took a seat beside you on the couch.

"I was lost in my thoughts," you replied with a soft smile.

"I apologize if I worried you."

Just then, Price and Gaz walked in, breaking the silence.

"You two chatting away like little high school girls?" Price teased, a playful tone in his voice.

"No, we only did that one time!" Soap rolled his eyes with amusement. "Isn't that right, y/n?"

You turned to Price and Gaz, your eyes softening at the sight of them.

Trust, something you had earned from the "family" around you. Gaz noticed the change in your demeanor and playfully elbowed Price, silently asking him what was happening. Price turned his full attention to you, observing your body language and the deep thoughts that occupied your mind.

You looked away from Price to Soap and Gaz, a gentle warm smile spreading across your face, catching the men off guard.

"Are you sad?" Gaz asked, genuine concern in his voice. "Y/n, you can talk to us."

"No, no," you replied, pausing with a slight chuckle. "It's just... I'm glad I met all of you, really. I am."

Soap's concern escalated, and he grabbed your arm. "This sounds like a goodbye... Are you leaving us?"

You burst into laughter, hugging Soap tightly. Gaz and Price remained silent, watching as you let go of Soap and continued laughing.

Ghost entered the room, his gear in hand, having just returned from a solo mission. He froze at the sight of everyone on the couch, wondering if he should inquire about what was going on. His gaze shifted to Price, seeking answers, but Price shrugged and pointed towards you.

"Okay, y/n, you're really making us worried. What's going on?" Gaz finally broke the silence. "Did someone say something to you? Because if they did, you know we can handle them."

"I'm fine, guys. I'm just thinking," you reassured them, albeit not entirely convincing. "I've been thinking about the word 'trust.'"

Soap looked confused. "Trust? Why would you need to think about that word?"

"Because I never had any with all of you before," you admitted, standing up. "Before I really got to know you all, trust wasn't there."

"But now it is," Ghost interjected, looking directly at you.

You replied with a smile, a sense of awe in your voice. "It is. I just find it crazy how we, with different backgrounds, can make such a great team."

"Great?" Price chimed in with a serious tone. "You mean a fabulous, fantastic family team."

"The three F's!" you exclaimed with a smile. "Thought you forgot about them."

"I never do, doll," Price replied, his smile matching yours. "I never do."

Ghost walked over to the couch and took your spot, leaving you momentarily confused.

"Now where am I gonna sit?" you complained, annoyed. "See, this is why we need two couches in this room!"

"Sit on my lap," Gaz suggested with a shrug. "Or on the others?"

You looked at the men and awkwardly laughed, thinking Gaz was joking. Ghost now glanced at Price, tired from his mission and seeking peace. Price cleared his throat and met your gaze.

"Just lay down, we will fit perfectly fine," Price said, patting his lap reassuringly. "You won't slip."

You crossed your arms and pondered. Trust... the act of letting someone you know and love be there for you, even in personal moments. Trust... something you held close.

Before you knew it, you were laying down, their laps serving as a makeshift bed for your body. Your feet rested on Gaz's lap, while your head found a place between Price and Ghost's laps. It felt a bit awkward at first, but you soon grew accustomed to it as Price ruffled your hair affectionately.

"We trust you, y/n," Price said, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "More than you know."

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shreddeddescent · 3 months ago

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family tree? more like family hoola hoop. family box. family time machine. help

SAJKDHJKHAS NO ACTUALLY ACTUALLY THO hold on. i will show you this piece of 'leo gets too fucking high and spirals over the fucking shit and kirby followed him to sit with him while he comes down' thing i wrote. because leo also makes this joke.

“God I’m too high… why are we finally talking when I’m high? This is a bad first impression…”

“You’re making a fine impression, don’t worry..” Kirby wiped his own eyes.

“Why did you take so long to talk to me..? We… we went back to the room and figured it out, everybody chatted with you guys but me… I thought you must have hated me..”

“Oh… I’m sorry it felt like that. It was… ugh. Jenny’s fault, she wasn’t supposed to get spotted. Then things kept going wrong. I guess it worked out, cuz you figured it out, I felt bad cuz Raph looked fucking… miserable when he realized. But it wasn’t gonna be good to do it in public, you know..? We were just tracking. Trying to be stealthy. Did a bad job. I only avoided you cuz I knew you’d try and kick my ass, even if Raph told you not to.”

He snorted. “You’re probably right… Still. Rude not to let me get in on the drama before it happened.”

“Tch, are you kidding? My sisters kept jumping in and making shit worse. We had.. some kind of plan. They just got distracted.”

“Ugh, you are my son aren’t you… so sorry, that’s your curse now.”

He laughed loudly and shook his head. “It’s fine, I love them..”

Leo took a deep breath and blew it out. He stared up at the stars again.

“So. Why did you guys like… travel to this time or dimension or whatever? Just for us? Or something else?”

“For you. I dunno how much of it you’ll get right now cuz you're way too high to get it, wanna keep my explanation clear. We’re here cuz we wanna be. We’re here cuz we love you, even if that makes no sense. We’re not here looking to get revenge on parents who abandoned us, we’re here to see if you guys need help. Cuz knowing how you grew up, comparing it to ourselves… we feel bad. And we feel like adults who can help. We feel like you’re more like.. little brothers. If that’s okay.”

“Raph said you felt like a dad. Like a real dad. He barely knows what that’s like, you know that I’m sure.” Leo blurted out of nowhere and looked over at him.

Kirby looked surprised to hear that. He looked down at himself.

“Huh… I guess I did say I was to the creep. Just kinda felt like the best thing to say in the moment…” he scratched his chin.

“Does that bother you?” Leo asked. He was worried he’d said one of Raph’s secrets he wasn’t supposed to.

“No… I don’t think it does. I mean… obviously it’s wrong, cuz it’s the opposite. But… you guys have literally never had a dad.”

“Have you?”

He looked back over. “Oh. Yeah, uh, Draxum raised us. He wasn’t the best as babies, but he turned it around. He’s not like the worlds best dad, but we were loved. We turned out okay. Took a while, but I do actually know how dads are supposed to work.”

Leo frowned and looked back at the pool. That felt unfair for some reason. He would never ever know the unconditional love of a father. It didn’t feel fair that his son who’d been whisked away out from under him got some kind of stable home. Why couldn’t he have had that? Why was he fucking traumatized and scared of rooftops and booming voices and being forced to rape his brother?

Kirby reached his hand out again.

Leo eyed it and took it.

“If you guys need someone to be a dad, I… I think I could be that. If that was what you wanted.”

Leo took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to. It’s just.. the vibe you gave off. Maybe it was the fucking trunks you had on. You had very big dad energy.”

He laughed and squeezed his hand.

“You really use humour to shy away from emotional honesty doncha?”

“Ugh.. you know my big secret. I can die now.”

Kirby rolled his eyes and laughed.

“I don’t know exactly what you need, Leo. But I think I’m willing to try and help with anything. Maybe it sounds dumb, maybe it’s some selfish desire to reconnect with a family I felt separated from, but we wanna be here. I wanna help you. If you want it.”

“You get that sounds crazy no matter what, right? You wanna.. jump through time or whatever, put yourselves in the timeline of your parents and raise them? You your own grandpa, Kirby?”

He leaned over and flicked Leo in the head.

Leo laughed and hummed. “Yeah. You already fit in. I could see it.”

Kirby rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb.

“You okay now Leo?”

“Still quite high. Not sure when it’s coming down. Might be a while.”

“You cool if I just sit with you while you do?”

Leo looked over at him and smiled. “Yeah… I’d like that. Just don’t judge me if I say anything too stupid.”

“You’ve said plenty stupid already and I’m still not judging.”

“Thanks DAD…” he mumbled as he stared up at the stars.

And Kirby just laughed warmly beside him.

#wcs #writing #i.... i just have so much fun w this im sorry #asks #leo

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monkeythefander · 3 months ago

Text

A Halloween Meet Cute ❤️💜

Summary: Virgil doesn’t usually like parties. But this Halloween party might result in the start of something wonderful, with a certain someone in a sparkly costume.

Relationship(s): Romantic Prinxiety, background/mentioned Romantic Intruality

AU: College/Human AU

Content Warning(s): mention of alcohol (not in detail though and none is physically present in this story). Let me know if I missed anything else.

Click below the cut to read the fanfiction

—————————————————————

Virgil sits on the back porch of the house. He takes a deep breath and not for the first time this evening, contemplates why he came to this party in the first place.

It’s Halloween night and Virgil is currently sitting on the back porch of Patton’s family’s house. Patton had invited several students from their university to his Halloween party. Virgil knew he wouldn’t know anyone besides Patton and Remus at the party, but he couldn’t find it in himself to decline Patton’s invitation. The bubbly man had told Virgil about all the decorations he got and activities he had planned for the party throughout the planning process. Patton also wasn’t planning on letting anyone bring alcohol to the party because most people who he invited are under legal-drinking age, and he also wanted to avoid anyone causing chaos or getting sick. Overall, the party plans sounded fun and safe, so Virgil ended up attending.

But as he sits out on the porch in his vampire costume, he can’t help but feel stupid for attending. Patton, being a social butterfly, spent most of the party trying to chat with everyone and keep everyone entertained. He was also spending a lot of time with Remus, which makes sense because they’re dating. This resulted in Virgil being left alone a lot because he didn’t feel comfortable joining large conversations with a lot of people he didn’t know.

Maybe Virgil should just go home. Patton’s probably too busy to notice him leaving, so he can send an apology text later.

“Hey, Count Woe-laf. What’s got you sitting out here alone?”

Virgil jumps slightly at the unexpected voice and turns around to see a person standing in the doorway. The person is wearing a white, long sleeved, knee length dress that has a gold flower design on it. The person has reddish-brown hair that’s tied up in a ponytail. They are also wearing a flower crown with red flowers, fake-pointed ears, sparkly red eyeshadow, and sparkly fairy wings.

“Uh- I just wanted some space from all the festivities…” Virgil mumbles in response while looking away from the newcomer. Suddenly, he hears footsteps approaching him and the sound of someone sitting down next to him.

“I could use a break too. Being social so much can get tiring. I’m Roman, they/he. What’s your name?” The person, Roman says and they stick out their hand to Virgil to shake in greeting.

“I’m Virgil, he/him.” Virgil shakes Roman’s hand back. The person smiles brightly.

“So, how’d you get invited to this party if you don’t mind me asking. Considering you’re sitting out here, you don’t seem like someone who attends parties often.” As Roman says this, his head tilts slightly to the side and Virgil can’t help but find this action cute.

“I’m friends with the party host. How’d you get invited, Sparkles?” Virgil decided to throw in a nickname. Roman gave Virgil one, so he might as well give the person one in return.

“Sparkles? I like that. I was invited to this party by my twin brother, who happens to be dating the party host.”

“You’re related to Remus?!” Virgil asks a bit louder than he meant to. If Roman is related to Remus, then how come he’s never seen them before. Also, Remus’s aesthetic is completely different compared to this sparkly, fairy person sitting in front of him. How can they be twins?

Roman laughs before replying, “I’m guessing you know Remus too since you said you’re friends with Patton. I know I probably don’t seem like I’d be Remus’s twin, but we are. I’ve grown up with him for my entire life.”

“I can see the resemblance now that you’ve told me you’re related actually.” Virgil says, looking at Roman’s features again. Roman and Remus both have reddish-brown hair, green eyes, and freckles scattered across their faces. Remus just happens to have a mustache, a gray-streak in his hair, slightly shorter hair, and lots of piercings.

“So, what year and major are you?” Roman asks, tilting his head cutely again.

“I’m a second year, and an English major. What about you?”

“I’m also a second year. But I’m an art major. I want to make my own animated series one day.”

“That’s cool, Sparkles. What do you want your series to be about?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet. I just know I want it to probably be fantasy themed and have a nonbinary main character in it. I want to create a show that I would have liked to see growing up, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I want to write a novel with an asexual character in it for that same reason.” Virgil says.

“I’ll have to read your book someday then, J.D-lightful. It already sounds like it will have a cool character in it.”

“T-Thanks.” Virgil says, blushing slightly under his vampire makeup, feeling a bit flustered because he’s not used to receiving compliments from people he finds attractive.

Roman giggles, “Are you blushing under all that makeup, Virgil?”

“N-no! I’m not!” Virgil covers his face with his hands, feeling embarrassed by his strong reaction. Suddenly, he feels his wrists gently being pulled so his hands don’t cover his face anymore.

“It’s okay if you are blushing, Hot Topic. I don’t mind.” Roman says softly to him, his eyes shining slightly in the moonlight.

Virgil stares back at Roman, feeling more flustered. Did Roman just imply that they find him hot?!

Suddenly, Roman grabs Virgil by the hand and gently pulls them both up to stand. Then they let go of Virgil’s hand and reach into a pocket in their skirt. Roman pulls out his phone and proceeds to tap around on it until the song, “Calling All the Monsters” by China Anne McClain starts playing.

“Dance with me.” Roman says and he places his phone back in his pocket and offers a hand to Virgil.

“Uh- I’m not the best dancer…” Virgil says nervously. The only dancing he ever did was Just Dance with Patton.

“That’s okay. You can just dance however you want to. Feel the music and just have fun! It will also just be us out here, if that makes you feel a bit more comfortable.”

Virgil takes a calming breath before taking Roman’s hand and letting the fairy lead him in a dance. They sway and spin each other around, almost tripping a few times, but laugh about it together. Virgil never thought he’d ever feel this at ease at a party before now. Roman truly is magical.

When the song comes to an end, Virgil finds himself being dipped by Roman despite the fairy being shorter than him. The two stare into each other’s eyes and it feels like the entire world is just them. Once Virgil is standing again he finds himself leaning his face closer to Roman’s face. Roman leans closer too, and the next thing Virgil knows, the two of them are sharing a kiss. Roman’s lips are soft and taste like vanilla. Virgil wonders if they put on vanilla chapstick before the party. When the two pull away from the kiss, they stare at each other softly.

“You’re a good kisser. And you were a pretty good dancer.” Roman says with a grin on his face, blushing slightly.

“Same goes for you, Sparkles.” Virgil says, happy and surprised that this is going so well. He usually is awful at romantic interactions. He should probably ask Roman on a date now. Yeah, that’s the right next step. Before he can get to asking that though Roman speaks up.

“So you wanna go on a date sometime, Hot Topic?”

“Yes! I mean, yeah, sure.” Virgil coughs to clear his throat afterwards, feeling embarrassed over how excited and loud his first response was.”

Roman giggles and once Virgil is calm again the fairy glances at Virgil’s lips again, asking for permission. Virgil smiles and leans down to kiss Roman again. He can get used to this.

—————————————————————

End Notes: Thanks for reading! If you liked this fanfic, please consider leaving a like, reblog, and/or a comment. I wrote this randomly and didn’t spend a lot of time proofreading, but I hope it’s still a fun read.

-Monkey💜

—————

AO3 Link to this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59735275

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #sanders sides college au #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #patton and remus are only mentioned though #prinxiety #roman x virgil #virgil x roman #intruality #remus x patton #patton x remus #background intruality #nonbinary roman sanders #asexual virgil sanders

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thecynthh · 1 year ago

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Gift — M.S.

synopsis • matt gives y/n a present since she passed her exams for the term

warnings • cotton candy fluff, my shit writing

notes • college setting, f!partner, matt n u r dating

author chats • this is my first ever fic !! please give feedback i need validation

also i’ll write a pt 2 with smut in it if yalls like this one 🤗

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i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck, chain round my neck

not because he owns me, but because he really knows me

Y/N’s POV

heavy tension finally clears from my shoulders as i take a step out of the thick classroom door. my feet automatically start my treck to a local coffee shop near my building. barely taking a few steps out the door my phone begins to buzz with excitement.

matty b❣️

the nickname flashes on my screen as i pull out my cell phone from the back pocket of my cargo pants. clicking the screen immediately after processing who it was.

“hello?” i say whipping my phone up to my ear.

“hey pretty girl” matt replies to my initial greeting. “so tell me, how’d it go?”

“personally i think it went phenomenal and to make it even better i KNOW it was super amazing” i explain absolutely thrilled by my amazing scores

unlike matt going through school was a necessity. i needed to succeed and i’m glad i had as great as a support that matt has been for the past year. my dream was so close all thanks to him, if he didn’t pull me out of that anxiety slump and put me back to work so soon i would’ve failed this exam.

i soon make it to coffee shop after asking matt how his day went and then getting greeted by the same barista whose been working there since i started at Eastwood.

“by the way i just made it to the cafe, im just going to pick up my coffee then i can head to your place to hang out” i tell my phone. the barista asks if my usual is good in a hushed voice seeing my phone up to my ear. i nod to him while walking over to the pick up side of the counter.

“actuallllyyy you can go straight to your apartment, i have a surprise for you” matt says showing excitement for what he got for me.

“matt, you can’t do this to me, im gunna cry” i reply with a fake teary voice.

a small chuckle echos through my ear. “you deserve it princess, all of it.”

“okay i’ll be home soon, i won’t make you wait much longer, love ya.” i snatch my drink and take a peak outside, snow fell from the coveted sky. matt would love how pretty this weather is.

Matt’s POV

“i love you too-“ that was all i could squeeze in before she hung up on me.

right now i just made it into y/n’s apartment waiting on her to get home, i bought a bouquet of red roses, which were here favourite, and i saw the prettiest necklace and i knew i had to get it for her.

it was held in a small velvet box waiting for its owner to claim it. opening it caused a small showcase light to illuminate the silver “m” that was a matching silver chain.

i thought about her when i saw it on the small mannequin. the only thing that played through my mind while i purchased it was that one taylor swift song she loves. i know swift isn’t really my vibe but she won a bet and got the aux for the car ride, it was catchy but i’ll never admit to liking taylor swift.

soon after fixing the bouquet i hear the lock on the door click and unlock. i hold up the flowers standing near the door with the necklaces box burning a hole through my jean pocket.

the door swings open revealing my girlfriend. my lovely girlfriend. her eyes lit up with glee as she looks at the bouquet in my hands.

Y/N’s POV

all i see is matt with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands and sweet smile drawn on his face.

i yank the large amount of red roses from his hands placing them down carefully on the coffee table near us and dive into his arms.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” i blurt out between each peck on his face. matts face lightly covered in a deep red lipstick he still just stands there waiting for me to done.

“of course princess, im really proud of you for finishing that exam.” he says to me pulling me in even closer.

“but to make it even better….” he trails off while sneaking is hand into his jean pocket. out comes a small jewelry box, he opens it presenting a necklace with his initial on it.

“i remember that song you like a lot, i don’t remember it all too well but i knew it meant a lot to you so-“

“i love so fucking much matty. you have no idea” i rest my forehead against his and slowly connect our lips.

he returns the kiss slowly with his hand snaking around the small of my back tugging me a little closer.

i’ve never wanted to be anywhere else in that moment.

#sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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baenyth · 5 months ago

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Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Character Rundown: The Other Four

Alright, I'm still psyching myself up to go back to reviews, but first, I wanted to do a character rundown of the four characters that got a Miraculous in Penalteam, as they all share the fact that of the Miracukids they're barely utilized. So let's go!

Ivan Bruel

Alright, starting off with the Big Guy. Honestly of the four it's honestly the strangest he didn't get his own episode, considering that the other half of the auxiliary duo he's in, Mylene, got her own episode all about her and making her a Miraculous hero. Like, he'd work well in Optigami against Style Queen as well! Maybe Optigami takes place far earlier in Season 4 so we can get that sweet sweet Lukanette and Adrigami content before it all falls apart and Marinette's parents learn about the whole 'Ladybug and Guardian' thing so they can save her bacon and possibly become Miraculous wielders themselves, and Ivan is one of the few survivors of Style Queen's murderous rampage! There's parallels to him being the first akuma as well! But I guess his character is just going to be "Mylene's girlfriend" instead. As for my interpretations on his character, I read two fanfics that both had a segment that interpreted his silent giant character as very perceptive. In one he figured out the identities of both Ladybug and Chat Noir without seeing them transform, and in another he realized Lila was lying in Chameleon almost immediately and was crucial in taking her down. I really like this interpretation, to the point where I headcanon that he knows the identities of most Miraculous heroes and knew Lila was capping. Also I felt like he was too soft in Penalteam. He doesn't normally want to hurt anyone but if it's for the greater good he'll do it is my interpretation. Other stuff, other stuff... he likes death metal. That combined with him being in Kitty Section makes me believe he's a Jojo fan, because the rest of Kitty Section are definitely Jojo fans. Except maybe Adrien. Maybe not. Also I don't like his voice but that's no biggie to me. Like, if his voice is supposed to deep-yet-crack-y, then I'm chill. Representation for the kids watching this show.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg

Honestly, of all the Miracukids, Nathaniel is the least interesting to me. Like I feel like I know all I need to about him through canon and headcanon. He was bullied for being shy, meek, and Jewish, and that resulted in him becoming mistrustful, vengeful, and at points grouchy. His interests are drawing superhero comics and watching superhero media. Before Marc came along they didn't have too much of a complex ongoing story. He wants to be a comic artist when he grows up, specifically of Ladybug. He's boned if people realize how weird it is to make merch and other stuff of real live superheroes without their permission or even giving them cash. He's bi. He knows the identities of the Miraculous heroes. He has two first cousins once removed. One of his parents is a doctor, while the other can stay at home. Like, that's it. Even moreso is that he keeps on getting forgotten in the Miracuclass. Apparently he just vanished in Zombizou.

Marc Aniel

Honestly Marc feels like he has even less personality and time in-show yet I can headcanon more stuff about him than Nathaniel. Why is he friends with Marinette despite us never seeing him before? In the first year of middle school, he and Marinette were seatmates in the same class, and said class had no Chloe, so they had time to be safe and bond over being victims of bullying and the joy of creation. They're transmasc and nonbinary, using they/he pronouns. They have two moms and zero dads in sight. They got into soccer from soccer yaoi. In general they're a big yaoi consumer, mostly of twink yaoi. They're a wolf furry. They're a weeb, too. Actually maybe he just has more varied interests than Nathaniel. I guess when given the chance they can passionately ramble on about the stories they're writing is my interpretation,

Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina's a fun one, as she wasn't always shoved to the side. She was a main character in season 1, arguably more than Nino was! And honestly, I got a lot of character from her. My interpretation of her is that as a baby child, she imprinted heavily on Roger's ideals and her philosophy is a person's worth is dependent on what they contribute to the lives of others. That, combined with the mommy issues she has from never knowing her mom (I don't know what happened to her,) is the reason why she's so servile to Chloe and at one point Marinette. She loves Chloe and thinks that deep down, Chloe loves her back. Morally, she's true neutral, which is why she's fine with breaking into Marinette's house to steal her diary or locking Juleka in the bathroom. She doesn't necessarily hate them, though. She's just doing her job. She's both an accomplished and a disaster lesbian, and I love her for that. I feel like you could make a damn good long story about her. In general while Julerose is amazing sweet wholesome yuri, Chlobrina is amazing toxic yuri. Why is this show so good with side character yuri?

Also, here's what I think wholesome adult Chlobrina where they both developed as characters and came back together would look like if they were cats:

youtube

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 5 months ago

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The fix

"Motherfucker!"

Carmy looked up and the L passing by over his head seemed to give him a flash of energy that restarted every cell in his body. He put the phone back in his pocket and started jogging slowly at first, then he picked up the pace and just let his deafening heart guide his steps.

The night summer breeze of Chicago stroked his face in a way that on any other given occasion would have felt nice or comforting, but not right now. He was fixating on one thing and one thing only.

Before he knew it, Carmy was jog trotting at a speed that made passersby look at him with a frown. When he tried to cross the street a driver honked at him. He was running at full speed now. The sweat running down his back started to bother him, but he kept going.

In less than 10 minutes he was trying to catch his breath at the entrance of Syd's apartment building and making an effort to remember which floor she lived on. He was sure he had overheard a conversation she had had with Marcus but couldn't quite recall what she told him about her apartment. He was too busy trying to catch what Marcus told her. Obviously, he tried to text her to no avail, so he had to get creative because that piece of specific info was not in the group chat, only her partial address was.

He thought of pounding on the door till someone let him in but it was past midnight and he feared that some neighbor called 911 on him. So he did what any Michael Berzatto's baby brother and Richie Jerimovich's cousin, would have done: He used his Dankort Visa, which he still kept in his wallet as a memento.

Carmy's skilled right hand slid the long end of the credit card in between the doorframe and the locking side of the door, just above where the lock enters the frame, then angled the card downward and situated it behind the bolt of the lock, just like he had a seen Cousin doing it a couple of times, through his window, when Richie got himself locked out of the house and Mikey wasn't there to break them in because he was still partying elsewhere or getting lucky. He remembered Mikey's words: "You want to make sure that the card is perpendicular to the door, Bear, is as simple as that... just wiggle it back and forth quickly, like this, see?" He struggled just for a few more seconds and then he heard the sound of victory. The door was now unlocked!

He was in before the guy who was casually walking his dog on the sidewalk, with his eyes pinned to the screen of his phone, could realize that something fishy was going on in that stoop.

Then he started climbing the stairs still unsure of what door to knock, but he followed the music, instinctively.

He stopped in his tracks and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Syd curled up on the floor, gasping for air and shaking. She also seemed to be crying and miserably failing at trying to collect herself. He knew that body language too well, she was either having a panic attack or just barely emerging from it. He could tell her shoulders would rise and fall due to her labored breathing and that her attempts to take deep, soothing breaths, were the reason why her eyes were closed. She was making fists with her hands and he could see them trembling, slightly. Syd was fighting back the turmoil inside that constricted her chest with an impending sense of doom. And she was winning.

Carmy was shocked. He never imagined seeing her like that.

"Syd".

She opened her eyes and looked like a deer in the headlights.

Nothing had to be said at that point. Words were futile.

He helped her up and wrapped his strong arms around her.

She was still crying silent tears.

The music kept trespassing the wooden door and the sound of Bruce Springsteen's voice singing:

"There's a war outside still raging

You say it ain't ours anymore to win

I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies

In my lover's bed

With a wide open country in my eyes

And these romantic dreams in my head"

seemed to be mocking them both.

Sydney clung to Carmy for dear life. She didn't know how much she needed that till she let herself hold him.

Her lungs finally gave her a break.

Her breathing slowly returned to normal. He kept her cadence without noticing his own breathing was now in sync with hers. Again, instinctively.

"It's over, Syd. You're gonna be OK. Just breathe. Breathe."

She closed her eyes again and did.

"I did this, right? I-I"

Sydney's words failed her. She could now breathe just fine, but the lump in her throat kept a tight grip on her, and be quiet was all she could manage to do.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but..."

"Don't. Don't say that. I'm sick of it."

Now it was Carmy's turn to be quiet. He was taking the blame. He wanted to say so many things but all of them felt completely out of place. He knew his words held no value and it was killing him.

"I know". He whispered. His acknowledgment was almost inaudible. He figured it was pointless, anyway.

It was.

Syd looked at him with pity.

He felt slapped.

"I don't wanna do this anymore, Carmy."

She let go.

He let go too.

They just stood there in the hallway, looking at each other. Carmy was confused. What exactly was that supposed to mean? She meant not do what anymore? The whole "I'm sorry" sequence? Or...

They both let the upbeat-flashy, synth-heavy melody on the other side of the door make that moment impossibly awkward.

The Weeknd was blinded by the lights and he couldn't sleep until he felt her touch, he was drowning in the night... Carmy was drowning too and for a fleeting moment, he thought that the lyrics hit too close to home.

"D'you wanna come in?" She gestured the door and he shook his head.

"I-I- no, I should go, this is just not-not the right time for what I wanted to say anyway, but... Syd...So d'you wanna quit? Is-is it over?"

After a long silence, she said "C'mere."

She took his hand and opened the door. They got in and everyone's eyes were on them. She tried to smile and crack a bad joke:

"Look what I found."

Carmy shyly waved to the group of people having a great time. They all waved back and seemed happy to see him there, except for Richie, who rolled his eyes.

When she let go of his hand he felt nervous. Upset even. Her hand belonged in his, he thought. It just felt right and now it felt like he was missing something important, something he was meant to hold and that had abandoned him. Her warmth. That was it! He realized that he was craving the warmth he only got to feel for a few moments. He needed more of that. He could finally think clearly. His priorities were now crystal clear:

Sydney's hand in his was number 1, not just literally speaking. He couldn't let her go in any sense. The star he had to get for her, was a close second, and last, but certainly not least, he had to make sure that Cicero didn't let go of his hand either. He was going to take it one step at a time. First things first.

His eyes followed her, but he stayed put there, near the door.

Syd was offered a drink of something he was sure was not water but looked like it and as she drank from the red plastic cup she stared back at him. None of them felt uncomfortable as they held each other gazes. Their eyes spoke volumes and none of them shied away at any point.

She put the cup down, made her way to the Bluetooth speaker one of the Faks brought in, and turned it off, just when Kill_mR_GJ's Summer radio got to its bridge. The music played on but from the computer instead at a much lower volume so Syd closed her laptop and with that couple of movements, she unceremoniously put an end to the impromptu party that had taken over her apartment.

The crowd grunted and booed but there was no use. They kept complaining for a while but Syd just couldn't care less. She excused herself and ask everyone to leave because she "wasn't feeling too well" and after playing along some lame jokes about her talent to hold her liquor being inversely proportional to her ass-stabbing skills, she showed everyone out. Everyone except Carmy. Not a soul at that party didn't notice that. They all knew he was staying behind and not even Cousin said a thing. It was an unspoken agreement that absolutely no one dared to question.

They were in the kitchen, which looked like total mayhem. She was making coffee and he was leaning against the refrigerator with his arms crossed over his chest. Studying her every move. Staring. Zeroing in.

"So you came here to show me that review?"

"No, I-I- had to tell you about the um... ultimatum. I wanted to talk to you, I- thought that-"

"The ultimatum?"

"Yes, Jimmy said that he'd no longer fund us, unless that review was perfect. And it wasn't."

"What are you talking about? It was pretty damn great."

"Not great enough."

She paused and chose her words carefully.

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Yes."

"So, it's over."

"It might be. But I won't let that happen, Syd. I won't. I owe you a star, and you're gonna get it."

"I don't give a fuck about that star, Carmy!"

Those words felt like bullets to him.

"We're about to lose the restaurant, Carm! All we worked for... I-I can't-"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow, well... in a few hours actually. And I'll try to get other investors, if necessary, I'll do whatever it takes, Syd."

She nodded and the worried look on her face pained him. He was her personal beacon of hurt, apparently. No matter what he did or failed to do, the result was always the same. Sydney got hurt and he was to blame. No matter how hard he tried, he never got it right.

He followed her to the living room where she placed the cups of coffee on a chair that was in front of the sofa and sat down.

Carmy joined her on the sofa and continued trying to reassure her:

"I will get us out of this, Syd. I promise. I have contacts in NY and Denmark, I-I will get us out of this shitstorm, I promise. I know my promises are worth shit at this point, I know, but I-"

"Stop talking."

It was as if a switch had been flipped off and he was now muted, mid-sentence, completely oblivious to the fact that his mouth was still open.

"I have something to tell you too."

"You scare me."

"I um...I was offered another job."

Carmy was so taken aback that needed a double take but couldn't say the words.

Syd went on:

"Shapiro, Ever's CD-"

"I know who he is."

Of course, he knew.

"Well...he's gonna open his own place and he wants me to be his CDC."

Carmy got up and went off:

"BUT YOU'RE MINE!"

Syd was not surprised nor amused by his reaction.

He realized he had to lower his voice and at least pretend he could keep it together.

"My CDC, I mean, Th-The Bear's, you-you know what I mean, Syd!"

"Are you finished?

"No. What did you say?"

"I haven't told him anything yet. I-I wanted to- I"

"You wanted to talk to me first."

"No, I wanted to think about it."

He felt stabbed in the middle of his chest. What was there to think about?! And then, the image of him feeling sorry for himself in the walk-in came to mind, and Carmy just felt defeated. Dead.

"You know what, Syd. You should go. I won't talk to Cicero tomorrow. I'll let him take it all. You go, I'm sure you-"

She started crying. Again.

Carmy stopped talking, mid-sentence. Again.

"Syd..."

"I don't wanna go. I wanna stay with you."

Her voice was a broken whisper and the tears running down her face couldn't be hidden from him, even when she covered her eyes and looked down.

He sat back down and tried to comfort her.

"Syd, c'mon. Don't do this. You're gonna be fine. Just-"

"Fuck you!"

"Syd! I just mean that you should follow your dreams- if that means-"

"Fuck you, Carmen! FUCK YOU! I'm not gonna be OK, whether I stay by your side or leave! Don't you understand?! If I go I will be just running away from you, not following my fucking dreams! If I stay you will continue stepping all over me and saying you're fucking sorry about it, only to do it again the next day, the next service, always. You turned into this monster that just barks all the time and the worse part is that I wanna fucking stay with you. It's all about you, whether I stay or leave IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU, CARMY!"

After seconds that felt like a twenty-year stretch for murder, he let his words fight back. He had some bullets with her name too.

"I didn't know that was how you felt, Sydney. I know I've been... a piece of shit. I know that. I could tell I was fucking it up. But I thought that out of all people you'd understand."

"Understand what?" She was still crying.

"That I'm doing this for you. For us. I'm sorry, I didn't wanna ruin it. But I did. I always do. That's why you should go, Syd. You're right."

They were both crying now.

After a while, he gently dried her tears with his thumbs and went to get some C-folds he had seen in the kitchen and a glass of water for her.

When he was looking for a clean glass he found a pack of cigarettes lying around. The brand he used to smoke. His craving for nicotine was off the charts, his last couple of gums couldn't be wasted this blatantly. He knew that they were gonna do no good to him. He was way past the point of popping gum and playing it cool.

His hand had a mind of his own, grabbed the Sapphires in a heartbeat and put them in his pocket.

When he got back to the living room Syd was feeling better apparently after having downed her cup of coffee and some of his. She drank the water too and took a deep breath. Then carefully put the glass on the chair and never taking her big brown eyes off it, she said:

"I will tell Shapiro I respectfully decline and you will tell Jimmy whatever you gotta tell him to make sure he doesn't pull the plug, on us." She emphasized that last word. Then looked up and found his piercing blue eyes looking back at her.

Syd didn't know what devotion looked like, but she was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe... it looked exactly like that.

She closed the distance between them, one inch at a time, impossibly doubtful, slowly but surely and kissed him.

This hunger took over and then everything was heady, quick, and intoxicating. In a split second, he was on top of her tracing a path of embers underneath her clothes, with his perfectly callus hands.

"Wait. Not here."

Carmy was panting and sweating, as she was, and when they both collected themselves enough for a moment, they went to the bedroom, never letting go of each other and removing every piece of clothes on the way there.

But they never made it to the bed.

Carmy followed her to the bathroom where she kept the condoms and when she turned around he made sure she couldn't cross that door. He closed it behind him, kissed her with all he had, and nailed her to it.

They sounded like beasts in heat. Biting and licking every patch of skin they could get a hold of.

They cried their respective names so many times they lost count, but all of that happened in under 10 minutes.

It was embarrassing. Well, for Carmy mostly. Syd was superbly content with the massive orgasm that left her legs shaking like leaves, although she was also a little mortified, due to the squirting and the fact that she could now see she had drawn blood from Carmy's shoulder. Best quickie she ever had.

Carmy still couldn't get enough of her. His kisses were as hungry after sex as they were during the brief foreplay they indulged in, Syd noticed.

They took a shower together, never giving their mouths a rest.

In the shower, he went down on her and this time it was her own blood she tasted when she bit her bottom lip as she came so hard that she almost slipped. He kept her in place with one hand as his fingers and tongue showed her what was like to fly and explode at the same time.

Then they moved it to the bed and collapsed in each other's arms, tangled up like branches in a flood.

There was no way they made it to work in time that morning.

They had no idea what time it was but could guess it was around noon because of the sunlight coming through her blinds.

Syd was flat on her stomach and Carmy was her weighted blanket.

No sheets, just two beautiful naked bodies, that fitted ideally together. Encompassing breaths. Caresses and hums. Kisses and moans. They needed nothing else.

After a long groan and a few more kisses that Carmy delicately planted on her upper back, he said:

"Do we have to go to work today?"

"It’s your restaurant."

"Our restaurant."

"I haven't signed the agreement, yet."

"Oh, you will..."

And he proceeded to fuck her brainless. Again.

Once they finished rocking each other's worlds he said: "I'd kill for a smoke. You're bad for my health."

"Oh shut the fuck up!" Syd laughed out loud and kissed him.

They made out for some time, getting comfortable with the fact there was no point in hurrying up because they were so late already that it would make no difference.

He suddenly got up and she whimpered as she saw his flawlessly toned and naked ass walking out of the room and into her living room.

"I'll be right back."

Carmy remembered that he had a pack of cigarettes in his pants and off he went to get his drug. The mantra looping on and on in his head all along was: "Fuck it!"

Then he ventured into the kitchen and lit the cig. When he got back to bed, he was grinning like a devil.

When Syd saw the cigarette in his mouth she smiled and couldn't help but praise the Lord:

"Thank fucking God!"

He joined her and they shared the cigarette.

"So I guess I need more of these now and less gum."

"If you chew one more piece of that fucking gum, Carmy, I swear to God!"

"Lung cancer it is then. Not a problem."

"Thanks!"

They sealed the deal with another kiss and much more...

His nicotine gum was later tossed in the trash, keeping the used condoms company.

As soon as they stepped into the restaurant everyone could sense the energy shift. It was instantaneous.

Richie was appalled.

"No, you didn't!!!" He said, sounding as dramatic as possible.

Nat was right there with Cousin but silently gushed instead. It was obvious. Something had happened between them, something big, and given the look and huge smiles on their faces, it had to be good. Better than good.

Sugar's phone buzzed and she saw another text from Uncle Jimmy complaining about Carmy not answering his phone.

She handed the phone to Carmy for him to read the text and he nonchalantly admitted to having turned his off.

"OK, great!"

"Where do I put this, Sug."

"What's that?"

Syd cut in "It's my share of this partnership."

"Oh, you signed it!!! Oh my God! Welcome to the family, Syd! I'm so glad!"

They hugged it out and then Nat continued making assumptions:

"So, that was it? Was that why you two came in so incredibly late today and didn't answer your phones? You two were going over the agreement?"

Syd and Carmy looked at each other and said "Yes!" in unison.

Richie was not buying it.

Later that day he went outside for a smoke and Carmy joined him in the back alley shortly after for the same reason.

Richie couldn't help himself and shot: "So, how does your GIRLFRIEND feel about you smoking again?

"She threw out the gum."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's love, man. She's a keeper."

"I know."

Three months later, the entire Bear family, including the two lovebirds, gathered around a double grave, one next to the other. It turns out that all of this relatively light-hearted phase they had been recently been going through, had to be balanced out by the universe somehow.

Neil and Theodore Fak were now together for eternity, resting in peace.

Theodore was 'fixing' a disco ball that wouldn't spin when he electrocuted himself and Neil, wanting to save his brother, followed him to the grave instead.

"He died like a hero," Ebra said.

There was someone in the distance, by a cypress, hiding her features behind dark shades and a black scarf. She was the ghost, not the dead bodies six feet under.

Dr. Dunlap didn't want to be seen or join the group of people saying their last goodbyes to the Fak brothers.

She just wanted to see the one who got away.

Dr. Dunlap still couldn't believe that Carmy Berzatto, the Bear she remembered, slipped through her fingers just like that and was now lovingly consoling that woman as she cried burying her head in his shoulder. The doctor would have given her right arm to be in her place.

Neil and Theodore had looped her in Carmy's new marital status pretty much immediately after Syd and Carmy made it official and she had been spiraling ever since.

When Dr. Dunlap thought this couldn't get any worse, she noticed that Carmy looked her way through his own dark glasses and whispered something in Sydney's ear. She turned around and looked at her too, as she protectively tightened her grip around Carmy.

'Apparently, Carmy's new partner is territorial,' the outcast physician thought. And that was her queue to leave. So just like she had done when Carmy told her that no amount of good times they ever had, was worth how terrible he felt, she wiped a tear and left. She just couldn't stand it.

Ironically enough, the ghost she was turning into, was the haunted one, haunted by the memories of his blue eyes and now by Sydney's arms around him too. All of a sudden this overwhelming feeling of having to get the hell away from there, and by there she didn't just mean the Cemantery but Chicago, became unbearable.

The new Italian investors, whom Carmy got to repay Cicero and continue to operate at the top level from which he was unwilling to downgrade, were happy to announce that they were not only completely satisfied with The Bear and its numbers, but that they had plans to franchise it by next year. The Hamptons was a market they were interested in exploring and the thriving and innovative option The Bear posed, was exactly what they were looking for.

Carmy and Syd were on board. The star she used to want so bad, was now just a memory for her. All she now wanted was to see the business grow and make sure that it kept going strong.

Carmy, on the other hand, was still fixated on her star but had made sure that it didn't cost him her. He was on a couple of meds and going to the AA meetings religiously as well, plus Syd and he had started going to couples therapy bi-weekly. Things were really looking up for him. To the point that Donna and him were no longer strangers. They still had a looooong way to go, but they could at least have a decent conversation now and then and get together without anyone ending up in the ER. He could appreciate the progress and he was glad, relieved even. Maybe this was what peace was really like, not what he had thought it was when his life was extremely unfulfilling and self-sabotage was his middle name. Carmy started contemplating and embracing that idea. Maybe this was it. Maybe he had finally found his peace.

He could keep this newfound peace during the most stressful days at the office, even when he was on the phone with vendors from around the world, fine-tuning the engines to smoke the competition, and by competition, he was only referring to one restaurant in the entire Chicago area: "Adam". He could keep it even when Richie got on his nerves, although that didn't happen as often anymore because they talked it out and buried the hatchet after a Sydney/Jess intervention. Carmy could even wear his peace hat when he ran into Shapiro at the farmers' market. He'd later blow the steam off at the gym and pop some painkillers when he overdid it with the punching bag, but other than that he was a peace enthusiast level 1, sometimes even 2. He expected to get to level 3 someday knowing that level 5 was totally unattainable for him, but he reckoned he could live with that.

Days passed by and the hectic atmosphere of the BOH started to resemble the one he once experienced in Copenhagen, at least half the time. Syd and he were the golden team behind that change that took almost a year to manifest but was now finally coming to fruition.

Sydney had come up with the most incredible family menu based on turkey and black mulberries, which even included a vegan and gluten-free alternative. He was positive it was going to be one of their biggest hits. As her menus always were.

Both the BOH and the FOH were working as smoothly as possible now, considering that Carmy and Richie were both in them but apparently their secret weapons: Sydney and Jess, respectively, were the keys to this. And Nat was finally in a place where she didn't have to consider herself a mother 3: her daughter, her brother, and her cousin. Life was grand and it went on like in some sort of rom-com.

Everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop, not just Carmy but at one point they just accepted that they might have earned this truce by doing a deep dive into the seven circles of hells the years prior, so perhaps they actually had this coming and were only supposed to reap the benefits of it while it lasted.

But there was more, much more to come.

That fateful day, when Carmy picked up the phone, he fully expected to hear Syd's voice on the other end of the line because he knew Tina and her were at the farmer's market and she usually called Nat to run some numbers by her if she wanted to go off budget or make any last-minute changes to it. He just happened to be using Sugar's desk that day because she was at a pediatrician's appointment, and his was a mess.

It wasn't Syd on the phone, though. It was fate.

The star was hers.

He could now die in peace.

When he gave her the news he could feel that warmth he had grown addicted to, emanating from her skin. It permeated through him and impregnated every bone in his body when he lifted her in his arms.

Her joy and tears filled his heart and soul and he felt more alive than ever before. He wanted to give her all the stars in the sky. He wanted to make a sport out of this.

She was worth it.

And Carmy was no longer the man he was when he decided that he wanted to share his lifelong dream with her. He was now a better man because of her. He was no longer broken, now he felt whole because he had finally, once and for all, kept the promise he made to her.

He was no longer a failure, but that didn't matter as much as knowing that she was happy and that he had something to do with that. It was no longer about him. It hadn't been about him since she walked into his life. Who was he kidding?

Syd was also happy for Carm. She knew that the hell he was putting himself through, was now over. It was time to just lay back and enjoy what they all had built together.

She valued that way more than the star and the JB award she had received a few weeks prior.

If someone had told her that the Michelin star she had always dreamed of was going to fade away next to everything else she had gained in the process of winning it, she wouldn't have believed them. She would have called absolute bullshit on that.

She couldn't have been more wrong in that case.

The Bear made the news, and the update about them getting a Michelin star went viral in a few hours.

And by the next day, no one in Chicago was unaware of their award.

That included Dr. Dunlap who was no longer in Chicago but found out anyway, via The Chicago Tribune pop notifications she kept receiving on her phone.

She was at the New York Presbyterian's cafeteria squeezing a miserable 20-minute lunch break that consisted of a salad in a plastic container and an apple when she read the headline popping up and hesitated before tapping on the news alert to read the whole article.

The picture of the smiling couple burned her retinas. Dr. Dunlap could feel the wave of acid reflux coming up her esophagus and burning her insides.

Carmy looked happy and healthy. Maybe even younger. Definitely more relaxed. He was a new man.

Her first instinct was correct. She shouldn't have tapped on it.

"The Bear receives its well-deserved first Michelin star"

Located in River North, The Bear of Chicago is home not only to the best menu in town, but it’s also home for future husband and wife Carmen Berzatto and Sydney Adamu. The couple got engaged last year at Christmas dinner after having worked together for almost two years...

She had to drop the phone as if it was red hot and had to stop reading on the spot. She had to die. That's what she wanted. Instead, she bitched and whined:

"A new man! You're a fucking new man who got engaged with his CDC only 5 minutes after we broke up. You fucking piece of shit! That's what you are, Bear. Thanks for nothing, fucker!"

She hadn't realized she was saying all of that out loud, practically yelling. But she was and everyone in the cafeteria was judging her.

Eventually, when she could calm down, Dr. Dunlap read the entire text:

"The Bear receives its well-deserved first Michelin star" Located in River North, The Bear of Chicago is home not only to the best menu in town, but it’s also home for future husband and wife Carmen Berzatto and Sydney Adamu. The couple got engaged last year at Christmas dinner after having worked together for almost two years to make their dream spot come true. The dream was a family-style restaurant, with two tops, booths, Danish design, window on the side for sandwiches to keep The Beef's legacy alive and a star. Their dream came true last year when they opened to a full house and kept that momentum going on a weekly basis till now when their hard work and excellent cuisine earned them the Michelin star they always dreamed of. Five universal criteria are taken into account to decide who makes the annual Michelin cut. First and foremost, the quality of the carefully curated ingredients, then the harmony of flavors and the mastery of techniques the chefs apply to combine them in a balanced and artistic way that entice the palates, but what truly makes the difference is the personality of the chefs as expressed through their cuisine and, just as importantly, consistency both across the entire menu and over time. The Bear seems to excel at all of it. At the restaurant, Sydney creates tasting menus that are acutely tuned to each season of the beloved Windy City she was born and raised in. "Carm", as she calls him, also a native Chicagoan who traveled the world perfecting his fine-dining craft, is in charge of sourcing the best ingredients they need to serve "heaven on a plate", as Chef Andrea Terry called their dishes once. "Natalie, my sister-in-law, is in charge of Operations and runs the numbers to make all of this possible, Carm and I couldn't be luckier, Natalie is our backbone." Carmy is quick to add "Syd is the heart" and Sydney accepts his compliment with a knowing smile and quips “Our areas are very different, but we’re each other’s silver linings,” she elaborates on their joint journey. “We’ve evolved, but we’ve evolved together. Who we’ve become as individuals and what we do individually is supported collectively. It’s so compatible. If anything, it’s strengthened our relationship. We are family and so much more than that too, and that's what we are here to share with all of those who wish to join us.”

A/N: I have no idea how to open a door with a credit card, I got that from here. And the news article is a true story's adaptation, Kyle and Katina Connaughton's story. Also, I got lots of intel from my favest guide → Michelin Guide. Last but not least: dividers and banners by @reveriesources and @cafekitsune, respectively. You can also find this fic on AO3.

Thanks for reading, chefs! 💋

*Special thanks to: @only-one-brain-cell for the inspo, love our super fun fic jam sessions.

XOXO

#sydcarmy #the bear #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #the bear season 3 #carmen berzatto #the bear hulu #syd x carmen #sydcarmy fanfic #gingersydcarmyfanfic #S4 ginger wishlist #the fix

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