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amywritesthings · 8 months ago

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press four for more options. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, edging, pet names, sex toys, multiple orgasms, mentions of body image Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“Hel-lo, is the idiot in the room still with us?”

A slender hand waves back and forth, back and forth, until you awake from your everlasting daydream.

Annie Leonhart sits across from you at your favorite coffee shop looking like the cat that caught the canary.

That knowing smirk hasn’t left her face since she sat down.

Curling her fingers, she pulls her arm and returns her hand to join the other under her chin once she’s finally caught your attention.

The small blonde squints her icy blue eyes, observing, deciding on what you’ll say before you launch your defense.

“That good, huh?”

Embarrassment is your first folly.

"I— What?!”

“I know a blissful climax cloud when I see one.”

“Annie.”

Sometimes Annie could be an ass, too smug for her own good, but she was a fiercely loyal friend and colleague.

Everything is meant in jest — at least, to you. Not many others got to avoid her wrath.

You lean over the table, reaching your hand out to cover her mouth.

She manages to duck your advances, expertly so, and rears her head with a small chuckle.

“Relax, no one’s listening,” she chides.

“That’s not true,” you argue under your breath. “It's a small shop. You know the vultures circle this place.”

“Not since the old thirsties got busted for their smutty book club — which, quite frankly, I resent losing.”

"You resent?" you repeat, mirroring her squint. “But you never ended up joining the old lady book club.”

“Mm, I didn’t,” Annie agrees, picking up her coffee cup to sip leisurely. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t listen. I looked up a couple of those titles for myself. In retrospect, they had good taste.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead.”

She pauses, setting the cup back on the table.

“So… are you going to make me work for the details, or what?” she finally leads, getting to the point while you skate around it with imaginary triple axels. “Did you call again after Friday?”

You did.

In fact, you've called several times — almost every night since last Friday with the exception of Tuesday, since you’d fallen asleep as soon as you hit the couch after working overtime.

It’s now another Friday afternoon, one week from the first time you’d called the hotline, and you’re wondering what constitutes bordering on addiction.

“I have,” you confirm.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she chastises with a grimace. “Boo — tomato, tomato.”

“What?! What did you want me to say?”

“For starters, who the guy is.”

“Not happening.”

“Loser.” A beat passes. “But it’s not Bert?”

You shake your head vehemently.

“Definitely not Bert.”

“Thank god,” she exhales. “I like you, but I don’t know if I like you enough to be calling up the same dude to get our rocks off.”

“Jesus, Annie.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude.”

You pick up your own tea, sliding it across the table before taking a tentative sip.

“I don’t know how you freely talk about this like we’re trying out restaurants.”

“Because it’s not real?” she suggests, and your stomach flip-flops.

You know it isn’t.

It’s a job.

It’s his job.

“I don’t know,” Annie continues, sitting back against her chair with her arm draped across the curve. “It’s no strings attached and hot. I’ll never meet Bert, and he’ll never meet me, and it isn’t like he’s going to ask to hold my hand and beg me to meet his mom.”

“You’re such a commitment-phobe,” you comment with the roll of your eyes. “You won’t ever meet anyone’s mom.”

“Yeah, because I’m not a psycho,” she replies with a snort. “I take it you went premium?”

You nod once. “Levi suggested it.”

Her eyes widen, delighted, and you scowl at your own stupidity.

“Levi?”

Ah.

Fuck.

"Wait." You sit up taller. “Don’t—”

“Oh, that’s a hot name.”

“Annie, I swear to—”

She sours to herself. “Damn, that’s so much hotter than moaning Bert.”

The tea in your cup bubbles from your chortled breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, not my favorite name ever, but that’s fine — because it’s more like he’s moaning Annie.”

Paired with a wicked grin, your friend winks at you.

“We have two very different wants.”

You squint, and her grin widens. “Wait, do you—”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, Annie.”

“What?!” she chirps with a chuckle. “You like the bossy ones, I like being the boss. You’re not allowed to kink shame me. We’re in this shit together.”

“Who said I like being bossed around?!”

She points her finger at your facedown phone.

“Porco Galliard bosses people around. I’m not stupid. And you scream ‘I don’t like being assertive’.”

Great.

The same observation Levi made over the phone without ever meeting you in person.

“Whatever, that isn’t the point,” you wave off, deciding to try and swerve the subject. “I wanted to ask: how many times do you call a week?”

Annie presses the tip of her tongue against her cheek as she considers.

“A week? Maybe two, three at most. It used to be a hell of a lot more, but I’m working a lot of late nights.”

“When you say ‘a hell of a lot more’, do you mean—?”

“Daily?” she finishes for you then tries to recall. “Why? Are you daily right now?”

You hate yourself for a second.

“Sort of? It’s only been a few days, but—”

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She reassures in that randomly serious way Annie can pull on a rare occasion.

Making fun of people might be her favorite pastime, but if she can sense true withdrawal from her friends, then she’s quick to stop.

The blonde reaches over the table to pat your hand, but it’s hardly a comfort.

Annie is about as comforting as raw-dog wearing a hand-knitted sweater by an amateur: it's itchy, too tight, and you want it to stop immediately.

“You’re a grown woman with grown woman money. If guys can go get blue balled at the strip club, then why can’t we call a hot guy over the phone?”

Again: not comforting at all.

With reluctance, you nod.

“You have a point.”

“I know I have a point.”

“Then again, I don’t know how long term this fix can be,” you reason. “It’s very expensive.”

“Yeah, but you know what’s more expensive?” Annie retorts. “Hooking up with a stranger at a bar who’s abysmal in bed. Maybe not so much for your wallet, but definitely for your ego.”

“And your sanity,” you agree, “if they’re weird.”

“Or a creep.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“A weird creep that happens to be a serial killer.”

You both give each other a look, an unspoken conversation of two delusional women saying ‘exactly’ in a singular gesture, as you sync the sips of your drinks.

— —

“Do you ever — ha — use to — oh — ys?”

You’re not sure why you’re so chatty with your rabbit vibrator barely hovering over the hood of your clit.

A week ago, you would've been trying to smother yourself with a pillow for talking.

However, with each night you’ve called Levi, the more comfortable you’ve become.

More bold, if openly using toys tells him anything.

The avalanche that brought you here was quite swift.

Traffic lights no longer remind you of the cars on the road but the man waiting for you on this hotline.

A willing striptease; a compliance to do what you wish but let him take the lead.

All you had to say was ‘my hand’s getting tired’ during an edging session.

All Levi had to reply with was ‘if you had a toy, I’d allow you to tag it in’.

Allow.

Like you’re completely under his spell.

Like you couldn’t have been using one from the get-go, but you listened.

You said you did.

He said grab it.

(God, you always listen.)

Now you’re here, legs spread in the center of your bed with your phone sitting between the valley of your breasts as you talk to him through the speaker.

“I am right now,” Levi replies in that diplomatic way of his, the lift of his voice telling: he’s amused by the way you try to speak to him, even when you’re ready to scream with impatience.

“I meant on yourself,” you exhale shakily.

“On myself?”

“Like on c-calls,” you stammer, forcing yourself to focus.

He loves when you lose your mind.

You refuse to cave so fast tonight.

“A mystery for another day,” he teases, before adding in a firmer tone: “You earned it. Touch it to your clit, but don’t go inside yet. I want you wet and ready for me, understand?”

“You’re so mean.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he softens for just a moment. “And don’t talk back.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you joke, before pressing the device against your clit.

The vibrations surge pleasure down your legs, causing your toes to curl.

You’re not sure if it’s the ‘sir’ or the moan you emit that makes him groan in return.

“The answer is no,” he finally states.

For a second, you think you did something wrong.

Then you circle back, remembering what you asked in the first place.

Right.

The toys question.

“You don’t?”

“Not on me, no.” He exhales, slow and steady. “Too busy making sure I’m hitting the script.”

That’s the funny thing about these calls:

The fourth wall?

Broken.

He doesn’t pretend to be your boyfriend for the night, just as you don’t pretend he’s only yours.

You’re aware he’s a sex worker, just as he seems to open up about his profession when speaking to you.

At first Levi wouldn’t — it was meant to be a fantasy — but each night he’s divulged more.

Like how he used to be in the military. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he has an affinity for tea, going so far as to have a mild cup with you after a session in lieu of a cigarette. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he’s a Capricorn. (Unrelated to sex — kind of.)

In the midst of learning about him, you’ve learned about yourself.

You’re less vanilla than you originally thought.

With Porco, things felt regimented.

Scheduled.

You weren’t willing to open up your heart, much less your legs, because he was too cold behind closed doors.

Focused.

Driven to his work and passions.

Levi, on the other hand, will suggest leaning against the wall with your hand in your underwear, eyes forced to watch yourself in your full-length mirror.

To worship yourself, when he can’t.

To pump your fingers into your weeping core, when he can’t.

To give over complete and utter control with the promise that you’ll come as many times as he asks you to, because if he could be in this very room — this very apartment — he’d easily do it himself.

With Levi, you’re bold.

With Levi, you’re in.

So you’re not shy to arch your back, moaning into the receiver when you feel your first orgasm approaching you like the incoming tide.

“Levi,” you whimper his name, “can I—”

“Shit, baby, you know you can,” he practically purrs, already knowing what you’re going to ask. “C’mon. Let me hear that pretty little voice of yours, huh? Just for me?”

“Just for—”

The last word is garbled by the way your teeth clench, legs snapping together as the first climax hits after a relentless twenty-minute edging session.

It’s unreal.

It’s pain.

It’s bliss.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

(Freedom.)

You pant, pulling the vibrator away from your body for a moment to catch your breath.

You hear him hum with approval on the other end, a low rumble against your chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he says after a beat. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” you confess breathlessly.

“You sound better.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Didn’t do much.”

“Oh shut up,” you scowl before laughing.

Turning off the toy for a momentary reprieve, you allow yourself to catch your breath as you grin up at the ceiling.

“Always so goddamn modest.”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffs, shifting on the other end of the line. “Can’t take a damn compliment to save your life.”

You make a face like he can see you in the dark, but you decide to continue the conversation.

That’s a new thing the two of you have picked up — talking.

Lots of talking.

You get off, sure, but he knows your work drama, your chore schedule — your mailmen even have the same first name, funnily enough.

“I’m serious, though,” you exhale. “Do you ever like… get off? Without toys, obviously.”

“During a call?” he clarifies, and you nod. He answers like he can see it. “No, not — not typically.”

“Wow, so you’ve faked an orgasm with me,” you tease with a blissed out snort. “Shame, shame, I know your name.”

“I what?”

“Faked it,” you clarify, fluffing your pillows behind your head as you situate yourself on your bed. “As if I don’t hear you breathing all heavy and shit over there.”

Then something unusual happens.

The man grows quiet on the other side.

Nothing shuffles.

No huffs or ‘tchs’.

Just… silence.

“Levi?” you ask, brows knit.

A beat passes, but he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Are you good over there?”

“I— yeah, fine,” he clears his throat.

Uh-oh.

You frown immediately, blinking twice. “Sorry, was that a weird question?”

“Not at all,” he clarifies, gruff this time, “just… I said not typically, not never.”

…oh.

Oh.

Suddenly you abandon the rabbit and sit up in bed, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wait.”

“Scarlet.”

“No, did you actually—”

“I already said too much.”

“No, wait, you can’t just imply that you’ve gotten off with me then abandon ship here, Levi!”

“I’m not abandoning ship — why do you say such weird shit sometimes?”

“How many times?!” you yelp.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Holy shit,” you exhale, “I’m so mad I didn’t pay attention.”

It’s like you can hear Levi squinting, narrowing his eyes with uncertainty on the other end of the phone. “...why would you be mad?”

“Because maybe I want to hear you get off, too?” you suggest simply.

Another agonizing breath of silence.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you place your phone on your sheets and pick up the vibrator, contemplating your next move.

“Because I would totally love to just… I don’t know, make you moan, too? See what you taste like? Feel you lose control, pull my hair, hold my head down while I wrap my lips around—”

“Baby.”

Two syllables shoot out of his mouth, as if overwhelmed with shock.

Huh.

An Uno reverse in your favor.

You’re no Shakespeare, but what you say is as honest as words can possibly be.

“I picture you all the time,” you confess softly, pressing the rabbit vibrator’s first function.

A low rumble begins, and you guide it between your legs.

You’re already soaked from your session.

There will be little give to the toy.

“When we’re not on the phone together, I wonder what it would be like. I could be at work. I could be at a coffee shop. Like, holy shit, I was meeting with a friend today and all I could think of is how badly I’d love to just take you to it — maybe disappear in the back hall, find a bathroom? I’d bend over a sink. I don’t wear skirts all the time, but I’d wear one for you.”

You hear shifting on the other end of the line, but Levi is deathly silent.

Mindlessly, your hand takes hold of the vibrator and you press against your entrance.

With a tiny whimper, you push in, deliciously enveloped in a sea of vibrations.

“You wouldn’t need to wear a skirt.”

Suddenly his voice appears, and you accidentally push the vibrator further in, causing a strangled moan to exit your mouth.

“Le—”

“Pants are just as easy,” Levi cuts you off, a thread of a whisper. “Couldn’t take that much effort. Wouldn’t give a shit if anyone saw your damn clothes at your ankles.”

Suddenly the room burns.

“I just know you’d fill me up so good,” you whine, and there’s a sharp hiss on the other end.

“Jesus Christ.”

There.

You hear it: the waver in his voice.

“Yeah, baby,” he concedes. “I’d fill you so fucking good.”

You whimper, a pathetic little noise at the base of your throat, and he exhales a large breath — as if he’s been holding back this entire time.

“Promise?”

“When have I ever led you astray?” he challenges, a bit more strained now.

It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” you breathe, ragged and wrecked, and there’s a small groan on the other end of the line.

“You already do, baby.”

“Not how I want to,” you argue in return, body pulsating with the growing need to release a second. “You’re so good at making me cum, but all I want is to take it how you want me — bend me over and fill me up, push me to my knees and stick my tongue out—”

“Fuck,” he curses sharply. “You’re so good for me. So, so fucking good, not fuckin’ fair.”

“Wanna cum with you.”

He groans, louder this time, and inhales the most deliciously jagged breath you’ve ever heard.

“Right there, baby,” he forces out. “C’mon. Give me one more. Just one more.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You purposefully bite your tongue when you come a second time, squeezing your eyes shut with all of your senses focused solely on your ears.

A grunt, as if he’s holding back just the same before exhaling, slow and languid.

In your mind’s eye, you see it: how he uses his teeth to hold up his t-shirt, painting his abdomen with streaks of white as he holds himself back from climaxing too loud. His whole body trembles. He squeezes the tip, milking himself for all he’s worth.

Pulling the vibrator from your body, you turn it off and toss it elsewhere on your bed. Your body curls around your phone, trying to stay quiet so you can listen.

Shaky.

Exhausted.

Not typically, not never.

You say nothing, can’t, but a small giggle of euphoria emits from your throat.

Surprisingly, Levi chuckles back with that drugged slowness that comes with exhaustion.

“You’re too damn giddy after two orgasms,” he chastises, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Uh-huh, Huff ‘n Puff,” you tease right back, and he tsk’s right against the phone.

And in your heart, you know—

Know you’re in deep shit.

Know that you like Levi, even if it’s impossible to like a stranger.

Maybe when you get this month’s credit card bill, you’ll sober up from your crush.

But not right now.

Just not right now.

— —

The next morning, you’re up bright and early.

Skip the elevator to the apartment lobby.

Walk down the stairs to kickstart your adrenaline.

Skip the coffee at the local shop.

Choose a small cup of chai instead.

By the time you make it to the gym, you’re more ready than you ever have been in your life to take on the day.

— —

Forty-five minutes later, your sweat even has sweat.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, the endorphins from a tough workout only make you feel that more excited to get your shit together. To be more mindful of your time.

(Totally not because your last call with Levi was unreal. Nope.)

Overall, you went from hating your life to — well, this.

Whatever this is.

Owning your self agency and worth after a pitiful breakup?

Unfortunately joining this gym had been Porco’s idea — he’s a treadmill hamster, and you got swindled by the sea of abs under his tank tops.

A ‘couples activity’, whatever that meant.

(Being sweaty and tired without an orgasm to finish it off never did feel rewarding.)

After the breakup you considered trying to get out of your 6-month contract, but Porco dipped first.

He joined Pieck’s crossfit endeavor somewhere else in the city, leaving you and this dingy little gym to commiserate together.

Now?

Now, you excitedly get ready in the morning to the gym — not to get thin or look a certain way to appease anyone else. A revenge body is bonafide stupid.

No — you don’t want to be anything but stronger.

Because Levi would probably think it was hot if you were stronger.

Maybe the next time you call, he’ll be impressed that you’ve taken to strength training.

Maybe he’ll give you some pointers — one more topic of conversation to be had.

Setting down the free weights back on the rack after a thorough cleaning of the equipment, you step out of the way of the other regulars gearing up for their workout and head towards the locker rooms to shower.

In the small pocket of your leggings, you hear your phone vibrate.

Digging your hand in to fish it out, you see a familiar name on your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Yo [A. LEONHART]: We’re all going out Tuesday for drinks – u in?

All.

All means the department.

All might mean Porco and Pieck.

Annie must sense your apprehension, before adding:

[A. LEONHART]: Porky probs not going, Pieck’s got a family thing

Well, that’s two positives.

[ME]: I’ll think about it. [A. LEONHART]: Think about it????

[A. LEONHART]: 🍅🍅🍅

Her and her fucking tomatoes.

You snort and begin to write back—

But not before accidentally slamming chest to chest into a stranger.

The phone flies out of your hand like a bar of wet soap.

Like a Scooby Doo short, it alley-oops to the sky then smashes down against the black-speckled rubber gym floor.

Before you can even react, the person you’d bumped into is bending to crouch on the floor.

“Shit. My fault.”

Every cell in your body freezes.

Time ceases to exist.

They scoop your phone into their hand, flipping it over checking for damage.

Luckily, the screen is intact.

No fall damage.

But that isn’t why you’re frozen.

As they rise to full stance, your eyes are still downcast.

From their sneakers your eyes crawl up, up, up — noticing the basketball shorts that cut just above the knee with compression under armor peeking beneath.

On his torso is an emerald green tank top, clinging to his flexing abs, the fabric speckled with sweat.

His collarbones are defined; chin just as sharp as his cheekbones.

Then you meet his eyes.

A blue-ish gray.

The man standing before you runs on the shorter side — under average height for a man.

His ebony hair dangles and sticks to his sweat-slicked forehead, the ends pointed and shaggy.

It takes a moment until you realize you’ve seen that hair before.

While you’ve taken to walking on the treadmill for your warm-up these last several weeks, he’s typically nestled in the strength training corner of the gym alone.

Every morning that you’re here, he is also here diligently working on his physique.

He’s always in some squat position or lying on a bench, so you never paid attention to his face—

He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Looks like it’s fine,” he says casually, and your stomach falls out of your ass.

Baritone.

Smooth like honey, low like a rumble.

There’s no way.

There is absolutely no way it’s—

“Here.”

The man holds your phone out for you, brows knitting curiously.

You can’t speak.

Hell, you can barely breathe.

He shakes his hand to wake you from your shock.

“Take it.”

You know that voice like the back of your hand.

Wordlessly, you reach a shaky hand towards the phone to take it back.

You part your lips to speak, but no words exit.

All you can do is grasp your phone and pull it to your chest as you catch the scent of his deodorant with a mixture of musk when he passes by, none the wiser.

By the time you turn to say something, anything—

Levi from Scout Services Hotline dips into the men’s locker room.

Author's Note:

...oops.

Thank you for reading part three of P4! I continue to be blown away by the response. Because of your encouragement, I wrote one of the fastest updates I've made in ages. How are we feeling now? Let me know in the comments!

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #press four for more options

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bunsiesblog · 1 month ago

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My Promise to You

s!1 Viktor x Showgirl!reader

A letter Viktor writes to his childhood friend and first love. A reminder that he has not forgotten his promise to save you. It sits unopened in your Madame’s safe, along with the other dozens of letters he sent to you these past seven years.

tags: childhood friends to lovers, love letter, minimal use of Y/N, affectionate czech name, ‘letters? what letters?’ trope, inspired by the Notebook, yearning, Viktor is actually king of yearning,

468 words

A/N: I am currently drafting up a fanfic that is written as letters between you and Viktor. The premise is that he moved to Piltover and you stayed in Zaun as a showgirl at a less than reputable establishment. He promised to take you away and everything he has done has been to come through on that promise. The gag is that the Madame of your club has been withholding the letters you guys write to each other.

I’m just such a big fan of a man who does literally the most for his girl, except you aren’t really his girl you’re his best friend which makes it all 10x more romantic to me. Anyways, here is one of the letters below that I just wanted to share with you all

➽───────────────❥

My dearest Y/N,

It feels strange to write to you again, knowing I might not receive a reply. And yet, I can’t stop myself. Writing to you feels like the only way to keep you close, even when the distance between us seems unbearable. I don’t know if these letters are reaching you, or if you’re reading them, but I hope, somehow, that you can feel the words I send.

It’s been years since I left Zaun, and I can’t help but wonder how much you’ve changed. I imagine you’re as radiant as ever, your spirit as unyielding as the city that raised us. Do you still find the hidden corners of the world to call your own? Do you still climb rooftops to breathe above the chaos below? I often find myself thinking of those times—how simple it all felt, even though it was anything but.

I want you to know that I’ve never stopped working to keep my promise to you. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built here in Piltover, has been with that promise in mind. I graduated, Lásko. Top of my class. I’ve even taken a position at the Academy, assisting the Dean. And now… now there’s something new.

It’s called Hextech. A project I’ve been working on with my colleague, Jayce. We’ve discovered a way to harness the arcane and shape it into something tangible—something that can help people. I believe this could be my breakthrough. Our breakthrough. With Hextech, I’ll finally have the means to do what I’ve always wanted: to build a life, a future, where you don’t have to endure the chains that bind you.

I know it’s taken too long. I know I’ve failed you in so many ways. But I need you to know that I haven’t forgotten. I think about you every day, wonder if you’re okay, if you’re happy—or at least as happy as one can be in a place like Kitty’s. I still remember the look in your eyes the last time I saw you, the way you told me not to worry about you.

But I can’t help it, Lásko. I can’t stop worrying.

I hope you’re safe. I hope you’re surrounded by people who remind you of your worth, who see you for who you are—brilliant, kind, and stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. But if you’re not, then please, just hold on a little longer. I’m getting closer. I can feel it.

When the time comes, when I have everything I need, I’ll come back for you. I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do. You once told me that I was meant for something greater, but you’ve always been my reason for striving.

You once saved me. Now it’s my turn.

Yours always,

Viktor

#viktor x reader #viktor x y/n #arcane #viktor #arcane x reader #bunsie writes #love letter #viktor arcane #gender neutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #viktor x you

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wonyowonyo · 7 months ago

Text

Tales of Arcana (Y. "Karina" Jimin X M! Reader)

Alas! The much awaited Karina oneshot is finally here. I actually was wrong when I stated earlier that I was finished with the story, since I had to do many last minute revisions that my back hurts like a bitch rn. I actually tried new things in this fic, such as using your perspective instead of the usual 3rd Person stuff. This is also my first time writing a fantasy-themed oneshot! So I'm apologizing in advance if it may seem like a mess, as I tried my best to finish this as a whole before I take my awaited rest. And this is also my longest work right now, reaching 7.5k! I never knew I could write that much lmao. Anyways, enough with the yapping and let's actually get into this one! Hope yall enjoy this one and I'll catch yall next time, wonyowonyo out!

New Arcadia is a city of contrasts, where magic and technology intertwine in a delicate dance. The neon lights of the skyscrapers illuminate the streets below, casting eerie glows on the cobblestones and alleyways. Magic is everywhere—in the air you breathe, the water you drink, and the very fabric of reality itself.

You, Y/N, are a Disenchanter, a specialist in nullifying magical artifacts and spells. Once, you had a promising career at the Arcane Institute, a prestigious institution dedicated to the study and control of magic. But an experiment and an incident gone wrong five years ago changed everything. Branded a pariah and a traitor, you were banished and forced fled into the underbelly of the city, where you now work at 'The Gloom,' a bar that caters to New Arcadia's magical misfits and outcasts.

The Gloom is a haven for those who live on the fringes of society. The patrons are a mix of spell-slingers, rogue alchemists, and enchanted creatures, each more bizarre than the last. Your boss, Grimgar, is a grumpy old troll who treats you like just another cog in his crumbling empire. Your coworkers are a motley crew of fae and shapeshifters who come and go like the wind.

Tonight is like any other. The bar is packed with its usual clientele, and you're busy mixing potion-infused cocktails behind the bar. As you work, you notice a familiar figure enter the bar. It's Karina, a former colleague from the Arcane Institute. Her eyes meet yours, and a flicker of recognition crosses her face.

"Y/N! You're here? I thought you were... well, vanished into the ether."

Your heart skips a beat. You quickly make your way over to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her outside before she can say more. As you leave, you hear her tell her companions she'll be back soon, claiming, "My old friend wants a private chat. Who am I to refuse?" Their laughter echoes as you exit out the back door into a dimly lit alley.

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Once in the alley, you release Karina and hiss, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Karina's eyes glint in the dim light. "I didn't even know you were still around. Rumor was that you angered the Elder Council, and they put a curse on you. Every bounty hunter in the city was after you."

You shove her away. "That's right. I had no place to hide, so I fled to this corner of New Arcadia to lay low... What was supposed to be temporary became five years."

Karina smirks. "Actually, I'm working on a big heist. There's a relic in the heart of the city, guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights. My team isn't up to the task, but you... you could nullify the defences."

You shake your head, turning away. "Not a chance. That life is over. I have a new one now."

As you start to return to the bar, you hear the distinct click of a magical ward activating. Karina's voice is cold. "You know, Y/N, there's still a bounty on your head, and I'm willing to collect."

You freeze, realizing the trap you're in. You turn slowly to face her, your mind racing. "What's your game, Karina?"

Karina steps closer, her expression softening slightly. "I don't want to turn you in, Y/N. I need your help. This heist is important. It's not just about the relic—there's more at stake than you know."

You narrow your eyes. "And why should I trust you?"

Karina sighs. "Because we were friends once. Because I know you, and I believe you're the only one who can pull this off. And because if you don't help me, the consequences will be far worse than anything the bounty hunters could do to you."

Reluctantly, you agree to hear Karina out. She leads you to a hidden safehouse in the depths of New Arcadia, where her team is waiting. The team is a ragtag group of specialists, each with their own unique skills.

Karina lays out the plan. The relic they're after is an ancient artifact known as the Heart of Thalos, hidden deep within a fortified vault in the heart of the city. The vault is guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights, and protected by powerful magical wards. Your role is crucial—you'll need to nullify the wards and the dragon's defences to give the team a fighting chance.

The plan is risky, but you can't deny the thrill of the challenge. It's been years since you've done anything like this, and part of you misses the excitement. As you listen to Karina's detailed strategy, you begin to see the pieces falling into place.

However, you're still hesitant. The life of a Disenchanter isn't what you want anymore. You've built a new life, a quieter one, away from the chaos of magic and danger. Just as you're about to decline, a commotion erupts outside the safehouse. A group of bounty hunters has tracked you down, having followed Karina's trail.

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The bounty hunters storm the safehouse, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. Karina's team springs into action, defending their hideout with everything they've got. You find yourself in the thick of it, your Disenchanter skills becoming the key to survival.

As spells fly and blades clash, you focus on nullifying the attackers' magic. With each gesture, you dispel their enchantments, turning the tide in your favor. Giselle's brute strength keeps the enemies at bay, while Winter's agility and Ninging's illusions create confusion and chaos among the bounty hunters.

Karina fights alongside you, her combat prowess just as sharp as you remember. Together, you push back the attackers, slowly gaining the upper hand. The battle is fierce, but eventually, the last bounty hunter falls, their spells fizzling out as they collapse.

In the aftermath of the fight, you realize the gravity of the situation. The bounty on your head isn't going away, and neither is the danger that comes with it. You look at Karina, who is nursing a minor wound from the battle.

"Fine," you say, breathing heavily. "I'll help you with the heist. But this doesn't mean I'm back for good."

Karina nods, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "That's all I ask, Y/N. Just this one job. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

Over the next few days, as you prepare for the heist, you find yourself growing closer to Karina again. The shared danger and old camaraderie bring back memories of your time at the Arcane Institute. You catch her smiling at you more often, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about the heist.

One evening, as you're fine-tuning the final details of the plan, Karina pulls you aside. "Y/N, I've been thinking... After this heist, maybe we could—"

Before she can finish, Winter interrupts with an urgent update on the vault's security changes. You share a knowing look with Karina, silently agreeing to revisit the conversation later.

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The night of the heist arrives. The team assembles at the edge of the city, ready to embark on the mission. You feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you don your gear and prepare to face the dangers ahead.

Karina leads the way, her confidence and determination infectious. You follow her through the winding streets and alleys, moving silently and swiftly. The closer you get to the vault, the tighter the security becomes. You use your Disenchanter skills to disable the magical wards and traps, clearing the path for the team.

Finally, you reach the vault. The dragon is a formidable guardian, its scales glinting in the dim light. The enchanted knights stand ready, their weapons poised to strike. This is the moment of truth.

With a deep breath, you step forward, focusing your energy on the dragon and the knights. Your powers surge, nullifying their enchantments and rendering them vulnerable. The team moves in, engaging the dragon and the knights in a fierce battle.

As the dragon falls and the last knight is defeated, Karina makes her way to the vault door. She uses a combination of spells and lockpicking skills to unlock the door, revealing the Heart of Thalos—a glowing, pulsating artifact of immense power.

Karina carefully retrieves the Heart, her eyes shining with triumph. "We did it," she says, turning to you with a smile.

But before you can celebrate, the ground beneath you shakes. The vault begins to collapse, triggered by the removal of the Heart. The team scrambles to escape, racing against time as the structure crumbles around you.

You and the team make a mad dash for the exit, dodging falling debris and collapsing walls. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to the limit, using every ounce of your strength and agility to stay ahead of the destruction.

As you reach the exit, a massive piece of rubble falls towards you. Karina shouts your name, her voice filled with fear. In that split second, you realize just how much she means to you. You throw yourself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the falling debris.

Outside the vault, you collapse to the ground, panting and exhausted. The team is safe, but the Heart of Thalos is gone, buried beneath the rubble. Karina kneels beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... barely made it."

Karina helps you to your feet, her grip steady and reassuring. "Thank you, Y/N. We couldn't have done this without you."

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In the aftermath of the heist, you and the team return to the safehouse. The Heart of Thalos is secured, and the danger has passed. As the team celebrates their success, you find yourself alone with Karina.

She takes your hand, her touch gentle but firm. "Y/N, I need to tell you something."

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding. "What is it, Karina?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "I've missed you. These past five years, I've thought about you every day. Seeing you again, working with you... it's made me realize that I still care about you. A lot."

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that you've longed for. "Karina, I..."

She steps closer, her voice soft but earnest. "I know you said this was just one job, but... what if it wasn't? What if we did this together, for real? It's complicated, and I know we've both changed. But I want to see where this goes. If you're willing."

You turn to her, your heart pounding. "You mean, like old times?"

Karina nods, her eyes hopeful. "Yeah. Like old times. But better. We can make a difference, Y/N. We can use our skills to protect the city, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves."

You take a deep breath, considering her words. The life of a Disenchanter is dangerous and unpredictable, but it's also where you belong.

You look into her eyes, seeing the hope and vulnerability there. In that moment, you realize that despite everything, you still care deeply for her too. The heist has reminded you of the thrill of adventure, but more importantly, it's shown you that there's still a place for love in your life.

With a smile, you squeeze her hand. "I'm willing, Karina. Let's see where this goes."

She smiles back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you, Y/N."

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The day after the heist, you and Karina wake up in the safehouse, the morning light filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The team is still asleep, exhausted from the previous night's escapades. You feel a mixture of relief and anticipation as you think about the Heart of Thalos, now securely hidden in a magical vault beneath the safehouse.

Karina stirs beside you, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles, her face soft and relaxed. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning," you reply, your heart warming at the sight of her.

Before you can say more, Giselle enters the room, her booming voice shattering the peaceful moment. "We've got a problem."

You and Karina jump to your feet, following Giselle to the main room where the rest of the team is gathering. Winter and Ningning look tense, their eyes darting to the entrance.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Winter holds up a small, enchanted device. "This was found outside the safehouse. It's a tracker. Someone knows we're here."

Your blood runs cold. The bounty hunters must have planted it during the siege. Karina's face hardens with determination. "We need to move. Now."

You and the team quickly gather your belongings, preparing to leave the safehouse. As you step outside, you hear the distant sound of engines revving. A squadron of bounty hunters on motorcycles is speeding towards you, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Giselle roars, her enchanted strength crackling with energy.

You hesitate, but Karina pulls you along. "We need you, Y/N. Giselle can handle them."

Reluctantly, you follow Karina and the team through the winding alleys of New Arcadia. The bounty hunters are relentless, their engines echoing through the narrow streets. You and the team split up, hoping to confuse your pursuers.

As you run, you use your Disenchanter skills to nullify the magical trackers the bounty hunters are using. The air is thick with tension, every corner potentially hiding an ambush.

Finally, you reach an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The team regroups, panting and exhausted. Giselle arrives last, battered but victorious. "We need to lay low for a while," he says, his voice grim.

Inside the warehouse, you and Karina find a quiet corner. The adrenaline from the chase slowly fades, leaving you both feeling drained. Karina leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder.

"Y/N, I was so scared we'd get separated again," she whispers.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close. "I won't let that happen. Not again."

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. Not after we've found each other again."

You tilt her chin up, your lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. When you finally pull back, you smile at her. "We'll face whatever comes together."

The team gathers in the center of the warehouse, discussing their next move. The Heart of Thalos needs to be kept safe, and the bounty hunters won't stop until they have it.

"We need to take the fight to them," Karina suggests, her eyes blazing with determination. "If we can find their leader and take him down, we can buy ourselves some time."

You nod, agreeing with her plan. "And I can use my Disenchanter skills to disrupt their operations. We need to hit them where it hurts."

Winter, Giselle , and Ningning agree, their resolve matching yours. Together, you formulate a strategy to infiltrate the bounty hunters' headquarters, a fortified building in the heart of New Arcadia.

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Under the cover of night, you and the team make your way to the bounty hunters' headquarters. The building is heavily guarded, its perimeter bristling with magical wards and security measures. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on nullifying the enchantments.

Karina leads the way, her nimble fingers deftly disabling the locks and traps. Winter and Giselle follow, their movements silent and precise. Ningning uses her illusion magic to create distractions, drawing the guards' attention away from your group.

Inside, the headquarters is a maze of corridors and rooms. You move cautiously, avoiding patrols and security cameras. Finally, you reach the central chamber where the bounty hunters' leader, a ruthless mage named Vesper, is holding court.

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Vesper is a formidable opponent, his presence commanding and intimidating. He stands surrounded by his elite guards, his eyes narrowing as he spots your group.

"Well, well, well," he sneers. "The infamous Disenchanter and his ragtag team. You've caused me quite a bit of trouble."

You step forward, your voice steady. "It's over, Vesper. We're taking you down."

Vesper laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "You think you can stop me? With the council’s support, I’ll be more powerful than ever! You're all nothing but a thorn in my side."

The group was surprised with the sudden mention of the council. It seems that the figureheads of the city wasn’t as clean as they present themselves.

Karina eyes flash with anger. "We're more than that. We're here to end your reign of terror."

The battle erupts, a whirlwind of magic and steel. Vesper's guards are skilled, but your team fights with a fierce determination. You focus on nullifying Vesper's spells, creating openings for Giselle and Winter to strike.

Karina and Ningning work together, their combined magic creating powerful attacks that push Vesper back. The room crackles with energy as spells clash and swords meet.

Finally, with a powerful surge of your Disenchanter energy, you break through Vesper's defences. Giselle and Winter seize the opportunity, their combined strength overwhelming him. Vesper falls, his body crumpling to the ground.

With Vesper's defeat, the bounty hunters' organization crumbles. The team breathes a collective sigh of relief, the tension finally easing. You and Karina share a triumphant smile, the weight of the past few days lifting from your shoulders.

As you leave the headquarters, the dawn breaks over New Arcadia, the city bathed in a golden light. You feel a sense of hope and renewal, knowing that you've made a difference.

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The next few weeks are a whirlwind of activity. Karina introduces you to her network of allies and informants, each with their own unique skills and connections. Together, you form a new team, dedicated to protecting New Arcadia from the hidden threats that lurk in the shadows.

Your days are filled with intense training sessions, honing your Disenchanter abilities and learning new techniques from your teammates. You work closely with Karina, who teaches you advanced combat tactics and spellcasting methods. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, rekindling the friendship and trust you once shared.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, you and Karina find yourselves alone in the training room. Sweat drips from your brows as you catch your breath, the air heavy with the scent of exertion and magic.

Karina grins, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're getting better, Y/N. I can barely keep up with you now."

You smile back, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "Thanks, Karina. I couldn't have done it without you."

She steps closer, her expression serious. "There's something I need to tell you. The Heart of Thalos... it's more than just a powerful artifact. It holds the key to a greater mystery, one that could change everything we know about magic."

Your curiosity piqued, you listen intently as Karina explains. "According to legend, the Heart is connected to an ancient source of magic known as the Nexus. If we can find the Nexus, we might be able to harness its power and protect New Arcadia from any threat."

The weight of her words sinks in. This mission is far more significant than you initially realized. The stakes are higher, and the risks greater, but the potential reward is too important to ignore.

"I'm with you, Karina," you say firmly. "We'll find the Nexus and unlock its secrets."

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The quest for the Nexus takes you and your team to the far corners of New Arcadia. You follow leads and decipher cryptic clues, piecing together the puzzle one step at a time. The journey is fraught with danger, as powerful enemies seek to stop you at every turn.

One night, you find yourself deep within the city's ancient catacombs, searching for a hidden chamber said to contain vital information about the Nexus. The air is damp and musty, the only light coming from the faint glow of enchanted torches.

As you navigate the labyrinthine tunnels, you hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing behind you. You signal to the team to halt, your senses on high alert.

Winter, ever the keen observer, whispers, "We're being followed."

Karina nods, her eyes narrowing. "Prepare for an ambush. Stay sharp, everyone."

Moments later, a group of shadowy figures emerges from the darkness, their eyes glinting with malevolent intent. You recognize them as members of a notorious organisation, known for their ruthless pursuit of magical power.

The leader of the organisation, a tall figure shrouded in dark robes, steps forward. "You've meddled in matters beyond your understanding, Disenchanter. The Nexus is ours."

Without warning, the enemies attack. Spells crackle through the air, and weapons clash in a flurry of violence. You and your team fight with everything you've got, the confined space of the catacombs amplifying the intensity of the battle.

Karina unleashes a torrent of fireballs, her movements fluid and precise. Giselle wades into the fray, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower multiple foes at once. Winter darts between enemies, her daggers flashing in the dim light. Ninging conjures illusions to confuse and disorient the cultists, creating openings for the team to strike.

You focus on nullifying the cultists' spells, disrupting their magical attacks and turning the tide in your favor. The battle is fierce, but your training and teamwork prevail. One by one, the cultists fall, until only their leader remains.

Desperation flickers in the cult leader's eyes as he realizes he's outmatched. With a snarl, he raises his staff, channelling a powerful spell aimed directly at you. You react instinctively, raising your hand and nullifying the spell just before it reaches you.

The cult leader's eyes widen in shock, and he stumbles backward. "No... this can't be..."

Karina steps forward before she knocks the leader out cold. The group managed to hold captive a disarmed member of the organization. Karina points her sword at the man, her voice cold and commanding. "Tell us everything, What is your purpose and what you know about the Nexus, or you'll wish you hadn't crossed us."

The member, now disarmed and defeated, reluctantly reveals what he knows. “We’re a shadow organization for The Council, tasked to find the Nexus. The Nexus is a source of unimaginable power, hidden deep beneath the city. Only the Heart of Thalos can unlock its true potential. The Council plans to use the nexus as leverage to gain more power and to expand their control over the nation."

You exchange a glance with Karina, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The cult leader's information confirms your suspicions and provides a crucial lead.

With the cultists neutralized, you and your team press on, following the clues deeper into the catacombs. After hours of searching, you finally discover the hidden chamber. The walls are covered in ancient runes and symbols, glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.

In the center of the chamber stands an ornate pedestal, upon which rests a stone tablet. The tablet is inscribed with a detailed map, marking the location of the Nexus.

Karina carefully examines the tablet, her eyes scanning the intricate markings. "This is it, Y/N. The Nexus is real, and we've found the key to its location."

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The journey is far from over, but you've made significant progress. The map points to a secluded area in the heart of the city, a place known as the Veiled Sanctum.

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The Veiled Sanctum is a place of legend, shrouded in mystery and protected by powerful wards. As you approach the sanctum, you feel the air hum with latent magic. The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall, accessible only by solving a series of complex puzzles.

Working together, you and your team navigate the challenges, using your combined knowledge and skills to unlock the sanctum's secrets. Each puzzle is more intricate than the last, but you press on, determined to reach the Nexus.

Finally, you stand before the entrance to the sanctum, a massive stone door adorned with ancient glyphs. Karina places the Heart of Thalos into a recessed slot in the door, and with a deep rumble, the door begins to open.

Inside, the sanctum is a breathtaking sight. The walls are lined with glowing crystals, casting a soft, ethereal light. In the center of the room stands a grand altar, upon which rests the Nexus—a swirling vortex of raw, untamed magic.

As you approach the altar, you feel a surge of power, unlike anything you've ever experienced. The Nexus pulses with energy, its potential both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Karina steps forward, her voice reverent. "This is it, Y/N. The source of all magic in New Arcadia. With the Nexus, we can protect the city from any threat."

Before you can respond, a powerful force slams into you, knocking you to the ground. You look up to see the cult leader, now imbued with dark magic, standing at the entrance to the sanctum.

"You fools," he snarls. "You think you can control the Nexus? It belongs to us!"

The final battle begins with a thunderous clash of magic and steel. The leader, empowered by the dark magic, is a formidable opponent. His attacks are relentless, and his spells crackle with malevolent energy.

You and your team fight with everything you have, determined to protect the Nexus and stop the cult leader. Karina unleashes her most powerful spells, while Giselle, Winter, and Ninging work together to keep the cult leader off balance.

The sanctum shakes with the intensity of the battle, crystals shattering and debris falling from the ceiling. You focus on nullifying the cult leader's dark magic, countering his spells and weakening his defences.

As the battle reaches its climax, the cult leader summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the cult leader's attack. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

When the light fades, you find yourself standing victorious. The cult leader lies defeated, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The Nexus pulses with a calming, soothing energy, its power now under your control.

Karina steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "We did it, Y/N. The Nexus is safe, and New Arcadia is protected for now."

You look at her, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and pride. "We couldn't have done it without you, Karina. We're a team."

Karina then stared at the horizon. “However, we still have more battles coming our way.”

In the heart of the Elder Council’s command chamber, tension hung thick in the air, charged with failure. The Elder of the Council, a tall figure draped in dark robes, slammed his gnarled fist against the ornate wooden table, sending inkpots and scrolls flying. His face was contorted with rage, the flickering candlelight revealing the deep lines of frustration etched into his skin.

"You incompetent fools!" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Council members flinched, shifting uneasily in their seats as they awaited his next outburst. "The Nexus was ours for the taking, and yet you let it slip through your fingers! How could you let this happen?"

One advisor, shaking like a leaf, took a cautious step forward. "Elder, the shadow organization reported that their plans were compromised during the heist. They encountered unexpected resistance—"

The Elder cut him off, his patience evaporating. "Resistance? Is that all you have to offer? What good are your shadows if they cannot perform a simple task? We had everything arranged!"

The room fell silent, tension mounting. The Elder’s fury radiated like heat from a forge, and the air seemed to crackle with his barely-contained wrath. He paced like a caged beast, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

Finally, he turned sharply, pinning the advisor with a steely glare. "And who was responsible for this fiasco?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Reports indicate it was Y/N L/N," the advisor said, voice trembling. "They orchestrated the heist of the Heart of Thalos and led the resistance that thwarted our plans."

At the mention of your name, the Elder's fury ignited anew. "Y/N L/N! The banished pariah returns to haunt me?" He slammed his fist down again, this time hard enough to crack the table's surface. "After all these years, they dare to defy the Council? They will pay dearly for this!"

His breath quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. Memories of your betrayal flooded back, intertwining with the present chaos. You had once been one of his brightest students, but now you stood as a symbol of everything he despised—defiance, rebellion, and the power of unity.

"You think you can simply waltz back into my domain, Y/N L/N? You will regret ever crossing me!" The Elder's eyes gleamed with a mix of anger and determination, his mind already plotting revenge. "Prepare the enforcers. Mobilize every resource we have. Y/N L/N and their little band of rebels will be crushed beneath my heel."

As he raged, the advisors exchanged anxious glances, knowing full well the consequences of angering the Elder. "We will not let them gain any more power," one advisor stammered, trying to placate him. "We will gather forces and track them down."

"See that you do!" The Elder snapped, his voice a thunderous declaration. "For every moment they breathe free air, they mock our authority. This ends now." His voice simmered with menace, sealing the fate of New Arcadia in his vengeful hands.

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The next morning, as you and Karina are planning your next steps, a messenger arrives at the safehouse. He hands you a sealed letter bearing the mark of the Elder Council. You break the seal and read the letter, your heart sinking with each word.

The Council has learned of your involvement in the heist and demands your immediate surrender. They threaten to unleash their full force against you and anyone who harbors you if you do not comply. The bounty on your head has doubled, and they are now actively mobilizing their forces to hunt you down.

Karina reads the letter over your shoulder, her expression hardening. "We can't let them do this, Y/N. We need to find a way to fight back."

You nod, feeling a mix of fear and determination. "But how? The Council is too powerful. We don't stand a chance against them."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with resolve. "We need allies. There are others in New Arcadia who oppose the Council's tyranny. If we can unite them, we might have a chance."

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Over the next few days, you and Karina reach out to old friends and contacts, seeking allies in your fight against the Council. You find support among the city's disenfranchised, those who have suffered under the Council's oppressive rule.

One by one, you gather a diverse group of rebels, each with their own reasons for joining the cause. Few notable members also decided to join the cause. There's Irene, a former Council enforcer turned rogue; Key, a tech-savvy hacker with a grudge against the establishment; Wendy, a wind mage with a deep connection to the city's underground networks; Winter, a nimble thief who can slip through the tightest of spaces; Giselle, a warrior with enchanted strength; and Ningning, a spellcaster with a talent for illusion magic.

One night, you hold a clandestine meeting in a hidden underground chamber. The air is filled with tension and excitement as the gathered rebels discuss their grievances and share their hopes for a better future.

Irene speaks up, her voice steady and resolute. "The Council has ruled with an iron fist for too long. They've crushed anyone who dared to oppose them. It's time we stand together and fight back."

Key nods in agreement, his eyes flashing with determination. "We have the skills and the numbers. We can disrupt their communications, hack their systems, and turn their own technology against them."

Wendy adds, her voice filled with a quiet strength, "And I'll ensure we move swiftly and unseen through the city. The Council won't know what hit them."

Giselle, her muscles rippling with enchanted strength, clenches her fist. "Let them come. I'll take them all on."

Winter, slipping a dagger into her belt, grins. "And I'll make sure we get in and out without a trace."

Ningning conjures an illusion of the Council's command center, the room flickering with magical light. "I'll create distractions and keep them guessing. They won't know what's real and what's not."

Suddenly, the ground trembles as a group of Council enforcers burst into the chamber, having tracked your location. A fierce battle erupts, your newly formed resistance group immediately put to the test.

Irene moves with deadly precision, her training as a former enforcer evident in her swift, lethal strikes. She disarms an enemy and uses their weapon against them in a fluid motion. "We can’t let them break us now!" she shouts over the chaos.

Key and Wendy work in tandem, the hacker disrupting the enforcers’ communications while the wind mage creates a barrier of swirling air to deflect incoming attacks. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" Key yells, fingers flying over his portable console.

Giselle charges forward, her enchanted strength allowing her to take on multiple enforcers at once. She lifts a heavy piece of debris and hurls it at the enemies, scattering them like bowling pins. "Is that all you've got?" she taunts, her voice ringing with confidence.

Winter darts through the fray, using her nimbleness to slip past the enforcers' defences. She appears behind them, striking with precision before vanishing into the shadows again. "Over here!" she calls, drawing their attention and leading them into traps.

Ningning weaves illusions that confuse and misdirect the enforcers, causing them to strike at phantoms and shadows. "This way, no, that way!" she giggles, enjoying the chaos she creates.

Karina, her eyes blazing with magical energy, unleashes a torrent of fire to keep the enforcers at bay. You join her, using your Disenchanter skills to neutralize their magical wards and weapons. Together, you form an impenetrable defence.

The battle is intense, the small chamber echoing with the sounds of clashing steel and explosive magic. Despite the surprise attack, your group fights with a fierce determination, each member holding their ground. One by one, the enforcers fall, and the chamber falls silent once more.

As the dust settles, you look around at your allies, their expressions a mix of relief and determination. "This was just a taste of what’s to come," you say, your voice steady. "We need to be ready for anything."

————————————————————

The night of the assault arrives. The resistance moves through the city in small, coordinated groups, avoiding detection as they make their way to the Council's command center. The air is thick with tension and anticipation.

You and Karina lead the main strike team, your hearts pounding as you approach the heavily fortified building. Using your Disenchanter skills, you disable the magical wards protecting the entrance, allowing the team to breach the outer defences.

Inside, a fierce battle erupts. The Council's guards and enforcers are well-trained and heavily armed, but the members of the resistance fight with a fierce determination born of desperation and hope. Spells and bullets fly, the clash of steel and the roar of magic filling the air.

Irene charges ahead, her combat skills unmatched as she takes down guard after guard. "We need to push forward!" she yells, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Key, tapping into the building’s security system, manages to turn some of the automated defences against the Council’s own forces. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" he shouts, as the sound of automated gunfire joins the fray.

Wendy uses her control over the wind to disorient the guards, creating gusts that knock them off balance and leave them vulnerable. "Focus on the weak points!" she calls out, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges through the enemy lines, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower the guards with ease. She lifts a massive steel door, using it as a shield to block incoming fire. "Keep moving! I'll cover you!" she shouts.

Winter slips through the chaos, using her agility to navigate the tight spaces and flank the guards. She appears behind them, taking them out silently and efficiently. "We're almost there!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the tumult.

Ningning creates illusions that bewilder and distract the guards, making them strike at empty air or turn on each other. "Just a little more confusion," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

Karina, her magic blazing brighter than ever, fights by your side. Together, you make your way through the building, each step bringing you closer to the control room. You nullify the guards’ magical attacks while Karina counters with her own, creating a devastating combination.

The battle rages on, the corridors of the command center echoing with the sounds of conflict. Despite the overwhelming odds, your group fights with relentless determination, inching closer to your goal with every passing moment.

————————————————————

The final battle reaches its peak in the control room. The remaining Council leaders unleash their most powerful spells and weapons, determined to crush the rebellion once and for all.

You and Karina fight side by side, your movements perfectly synchronized. As you nullify the Council's spells, Karina counters with blasts of fire and lightning, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Irene engages one of the leaders in a deadly dance of blades, her movements swift and precise. "You're going down!" she yells, striking with lethal accuracy.

Key, hacking into the command center's systems, disrupts their communications and disables their automated defenses. "I've got their security down! Focus on the leaders!" he calls out, sweat pouring down his face.

Wendy uses her wind magic to create a barrier, shielding the resistance from the leaders' attacks. "Hold the line!" she shouts, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges at one of the leaders, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower their defences. She grabs them and hurls them across the room, her voice a roar of defiance. "You're finished!"

Winter uses her agility to navigate the chaos, slipping through the tightest spaces to strike at the leaders from unexpected angles. "Keep them off balance!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the storm.

Ningning creates illusions that confuse and disorient the leaders, making them strike at phantoms and shadows. "They won't know what's real and what's not," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

The head of the Council, now cornered and desperate, summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the dark spell. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

Karina, sensing the moment of vulnerability, unleashes a powerful surge of magic that disrupts the vortex, causing it to collapse in on itself. "Now, Y/N! Finish it!" she yells, her voice filled with urgency.

With a surge of determination, you focus all your energy on the head of the Council, nullifying his dark magic and leaving him defenceless. Irene, Key, Wendy, Giselle, Winter, and Ningning join the final push, their combined efforts overwhelming the remaining Council members.

The head of the Council falls, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The command centre falls silent, the resistance standing victorious amid the wreckage. You and Karina share a triumphant look, knowing that the hardest part is over but that the fight for New Arcadia's future has only just begun.

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the battle, the resistance works to stabilise the city and establish a new order. You and Karina play key roles in the rebuilding efforts, using your skills and knowledge to help create a fairer, more just society.

The people of New Arcadia, inspired by your courage and determination, begin to rally around the new leadership. The city's magical misfits and outcasts find new hope and purpose, their talents and abilities finally recognized and valued.

One day, as you and Karina oversee the reconstruction of a devastated neighborhood, a young girl approaches you. Her eyes are wide with adIrenetion, and she clutches a small, hand-drawn picture of you and Karina fighting the Council.

"Thank you for saving us," she says, her voice filled with sincerity. "You're heroes."

You kneel down to her level, smiling. "We did it together. And now, it's up to all of us to make sure New Arcadia remains a place where everyone is free."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her expression filled with pride. "We've come a long way, Y/N. And we still have a lot of work to do. But I know we can build a better future."

————————————————————

As the city begins to heal, you and Karina take a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come. The bond between you has grown stronger, forged in the fires of battle and tempered by shared struggles and triumphs. The neon lights of New Arcadia shimmer in the distance, painting the night sky with vibrant hues.

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, you can hear the distant hum of life below, the mix of magic and technology creating an enchanting symphony. You turn to Karina, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights, and feel a rush of warmth.

With a soft smile, Karina gazes into your eyes, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and strength. “Y/N,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, I feel like I’ve found a part of myself again. And that’s because of you.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you take a step closer, closing the distance between you. “I feel the same way, Karina. You’ve brought light back into my life when I thought it was lost forever.” The sincerity in your voice resonates in the quiet night.

She reaches up, cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing your cheek. “I know we’ve faced so much uncertainty, but I want you to know that I love you, Y/N. I truly do.” Her confession hangs in the air, filled with the weight of truth.

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest. “I love you too, Karina. With all my heart.” The words come out effortlessly, a promise wrapped in passion and commitment.

With a gentle smile, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s next for us?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought of the future.

Karina’s eyes glimmer with excitement, and she takes a step closer, her breath mingling with the cool night air. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Always.” Her voice is filled with determination, but there’s also a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

You lean in, and the world around you fades away. At that moment, nothing else matters but the two of you. As your lips meet, it’s as if the city itself holds its breath. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it deepens, fueled by the unspoken promise of adventure and the intensity of your shared experiences.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, the city lights reflecting in her eyes like a thousand stars. “I never thought I’d find someone like you in all this chaos,” you whisper, your forehead resting against hers.

Karina chuckles softly, her breath warm against your skin. “And I never thought I’d get a second chance to be with you.” Her fingers intertwined with yours, and you can feel the strength and comfort in her grip.

“I know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as we’re together, I’m ready to face them,” you say, your heart steady with resolve.

Karina nods, a playful smile lighting up her face. “Let’s make a pact. No matter what happens, we never lose sight of each other. Promise?”

“Promise,” you reply, sealing it with another kiss, this one filled with hope and longing. You pull back slightly, studying her face, and in that moment, you realize how lucky you are to have found love amidst the chaos.

As the night deepens, you both take a moment to savor the city’s magic—the flickering lights, the distant sounds of laughter, and the vibrant energy that surrounds you. Hand in hand, you step into the night, the world unfolding before you like a canvas waiting to be painted with your adventures.

With Karina by your side, you’re ready to embrace whatever the future holds—be it danger, excitement, or the sweet moments of peace in between. Together, you’ll write a new story, one filled with passion, courage, and endless possibilities. And as you walk towards the horizon, you know this is just the beginning of your incredible journey.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop imagines #kpop girls #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa karina #karina #yoo jimin #karina x male reader #karina x reader #aespa #yu jimin

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puck-luck · 3 months ago

Note

14 of hearts with Quinn 🙏 they finally talk about starting a family after being at a team event where the reader spent the whole night with the kids and after the families with kids leave she gets sad…and a little drunk

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, breeding kink, PDA WC: 578

You have a slight problem. You’re tipsy and there’s a baby in your arms. You’re drunk enough that you’re not sure exactly who the baby belongs to, but Quinn had been carrying her awkwardly, so you’d scooped her up and decided to dote on her. Of course, you’d had to cross the room to get to him and the baby, your vision tunneling as soon as you spotted him.

Turns out, Quinn was only holding her so that her parents could wish the hosts goodbye without a tired baby in their arms. She’s taken from you far too soon, which you act gracious about, but inside, you’re pouting. You love babies. They’re so cute and so precious and you love the idea of watching a tiny little human, that you made with the love of your life, learn how to be a person.

Once the parents are gone, taking your new favorite little friend with them, you pout at Quinn outwardly. “I want one,” you whine petulantly.

Quinn rolls his eyes, but he smiles at you fondly. “You’re drunk,” he says.

“Only a little,” you reply. “And that doesn’t change anything. I still want a baby. I want you to give me one.” You bring your hands to his sides and wrinkle the fabric of his shirt in your hands.

Quinn covers your hands with his own and removes them from his clothing. He fixes you with an unimpressed look. “We’re in public,” he reminds you.

“Then take me home.” You bring your arms over his shoulders, plastering yourself against his front. You touch his nose in a brief Eskimo kiss, ghosting your lips over his. “We should practice.”

“Practice what?” Quinn asks, playing along. He hugs your middle, keeping you close. You’re both toeing the line of acceptable PDA, especially when you’re at an event with Quinn’s colleagues, but you can’t be bothered. You’re horny and you want to make a mini-Quinn. You’ve seen his baby pictures– he was adorable.

“Making a baby,” you sing-song, toying with his hair. He hasn’t cut it since the start of the season, so it’s growing nice and long. He also hasn’t shaved in a little while, so his facial hair is your favorite length. “I’ll let you come inside me as many times as you want.”

“Tempting,” Quinn laughs. “But, again, baby– you’re drunk.”

“I’m horny,” you correct.

“You’re horny because you’re drunk,” Quinn says. He pecks your lips. “I promise, as soon as we’re both sober, we can do every little dirty thing you could ever dream of.”

“You’re no fun,” you tell him with a frown.

Quinn allows one of his hands to drift lower and pat your ass. He kisses your cheek, then puts his mouth right next to your ear. “We can have a lot of fun tomorrow,” he mutters. “When you’re sober. I want you to remember every second when I try and knock you up for the first time, baby.”

You straighten your posture a bit, reacting to his words. You sway with him a bit like you’re slow-dancing. It’s certainly out of place in this environment, to be holding your boyfriend so close for this long, but you don’t care. You want to be touching him and you like what he’s saying.

“Gonna look so pretty with my cum dripping out of you, sweetheart,” Quinn continues. “But I’ll have to make sure it stays inside somehow. We can’t take any chances, can we?”

#puck-luck's 1k celebration #andy writes anything🍄#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #qh43 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey smut

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seventeenreasonswhy · 6 months ago

Text

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 1

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

Part 1: ~2k words, Part 2

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, tension!!, office crushes, office romance, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is just Part 1! Not sure how long this series is going to be, but I promise there will be smut eventually lol! I just got into the head of this MC and wanted to create a tense, flirty coworker dynamic with Yoon Jeonghan, the prettiest man alive! Also, I should mention that the representation of Koreans in this chapter is completely fictional and in now way representative of how actual Korean people feel about foreign coworkers! It’s a little K-Drama “ice queen” trope, sorry! I hope you enjoy! 😊

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

If you had known there was going to be so much paperwork involved, you would have just printed and signed everything ahead of time. But they had mentioned that the in-person onboarding was required.

“Sign here,” the onboarding representative pointed to various lines for your signature.

Payment, discretion, benefits... the contract was airtight.

That’s the K-Pop industry for you, you thought as you diligently scanned through each line. You could feel the other new hires at the onboarding getting restless.

“Sorry,” you said to the room, “I’m kind of slow at reading Korean.” You could practically smell the mixture of surprise and annoyance coming from the others seated around the long conference table. If you were being honest, you knew that your Korean was pretty good. (Not that you’d ever admit it out loud!)

“Wow, you speak pretty well,” the onboarding representative said.

“Thank you,” you smiled politely.

“Is she pretty, too?” you heard the woman seated across from you mutter to the woman on her right, eliciting a soft giggle. You caught her eye for a moment, smiling, but she looked away quickly.

You had to remember that small gestures you considered normal in the States might come off as rude or overly familiar. You focused again on the contract in front of you, trying not to mind whether you were the last one to finish signing.

“Once everyone is done signing everything, we’ll take you on a tour of the building, and we’ll end the day by swinging by the practice room and meeting the members.” The onboarding representative clapped his hands cheerfully, and everyone stood, bowing and shaking each other’s hands as they left the room. You were selected to go with the second tour group, with the two women seated across from you and another young man. You were all new “executive production staff” and would be sharing a four-desk cubicle.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you said, bowing politely to your new colleagues. They greeted you politely, if a little stiffly. The two women seemed to know each other already and were sticking together. The young guy was typing rapidly into a messaging app on his phone.

“Um,” one of the women said in a timid voice, directed at you.

“...Yes?” you asked as politely and as gently as possible.

“Where are you from?” The other woman asked more boldly. You noted that she didn’t use polite speech.

“I grew up in <hometown>, in the U.S.,” you answered politely, deciding to ignore this woman’s attitude.

“What are you doing here? Don’t they have plenty of production jobs in the States?” she asked in English.

Ah, she’s gonna be a tough nut to crack. You anticipated some culture-clashing and were prepared to answer any questions or handle any tension that might arise. You wanted to be prepared, so you had done your best to study the culture before moving, talking to friends whose parents were from Korea and reading books about Korean history and social norms. And by watching (probably too many) TikToks. But, you had focused most of your energy on learning the language.

But the fact still remained: you were the outsider here.

“Fluent English speakers are in high demand, after all,” you tried to answer as smoothly as you could in English.

“Jiyeon-shi,” the woman’s friend gently hit her arm, her tone both amused and chiding. The woman, “Jiyeon,” just stared at you, her expression smug.

“Well, don’t expect to turn Korean just because you got a job here and use our skincare routine,” she said, her words laced with venom. Ah, she’s speaking Korean again, you noted.

“I would never presume such a thing. I look forward to working with you,” you bowed deeply. Kwon Jiyeon scoffed just before the four of you were guided toward the office floor.

“This is where you’ll be working,” the tour guide, a young woman wearing a face mask and glasses, gestured to a partitioned-off space in a sea of similar cubicles. “You’ll likely not spend much time at your desk, but please make yourselves comfortable.” She directed you and the others to the staff kitchen, the lounge, the row of conference rooms that needed to be booked at least two days in advance, the company cafeteria, the courtyard on the roof, the editing bays, and finally, you were at the practice rooms.

“This is where various groups and their performance coaches and choreographers can be found,” the tour guide said. You could feel the bass of a song pulsating through the walls and could see tight groups of dancers practicing in the mirror through the small windows in the doors to the spacious, sprung-floored rooms.

You were assigned to exclusively work with the group SEVENTEEN, probably the number one K-Pop group in the world at the moment. You felt unbelievably lucky to have gotten the gig. You were fully expecting to work with idols who hadn’t even debuted yet, but the interviewer was so impressed with your experience in the American music industry—and the way you picked up the language quickly—that he felt it would be a waste of your talent to send you to a group that could disband in a couple of years.

“Okay, it looks like they’re about to take a break,” the tour guide said before facing the four of you. “Listen, the members are very polite and kind, but please respect their privacy and their position at all times. This is meant to be a formal meeting, so please remember to be professional.”

Interesting warning, you thought. You figured there had probably been incidents with staff in the past. You could imagine. There was a lot asked of the idols in this industry. Not to mention they were all gorgeous. You hoped they wouldn’t be uncomfortable working with you. Jiyeon and her friend (“Daein” you learned) were visibly flustered. You averted your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. I can’t get nervous, you thought, these are going to be my colleagues.

The tour guide opened the door, and the four of you filed into the studio. The atmosphere was rowdier than you expected, and more crowded.

So many people around just for a dance rehearsal? Or is it just open studio time?

There were a group of girls, one in a folding chair, the others sitting or stretching on the floor nearby, facing away from the mirrors. A group of guys on the far end of the studio, some of them even snacking, some of them talking to each other or into a camera, held by some other young person wearing a face mask. All the while, music was playing at the far end of the studio, and there they were.

Well, some of them.

You felt your stomach flip.

Well, you couldn’t imagine not reacting to them, right? They were famous. And... you didn’t know how to describe it. Standing there, next to this wary Jiyeon and her follower, Daein, and the other young guy on your tour whose name you already forgot... and the nice tour guide, and the staff in the corner she was talking to...

Somehow they all just disappeared, and you were watching the group of men in the middle of the hard studio floor, dancing in perfect sync to the music.

So this is what it’s like to be in the presence of real celebrities, was all you could think.

Your heart was pounding like crazy. You could tell that your face was probably beet red. You tried to breath.

They’re ...boys, really—you told yourself. You’d learned that age was important in Korea. You’d also learned that you were a year older than the group’s oldest member.

Seungcheol, you remembered. That was his name.

... A pretty name.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of their dancing, until suddenly the music died down.

“What, what!”

“Hey!”

“Why are we stopping?”

A flurry of protests came from these men (—boys), and the tour guide clapped her hands together.

“We apologize for the interruption,” she bowed to the group, now paying attention to her—and facing in the direction of where you’d entered the studio, facing the four of you.

“We’d like to take just a quick moment to introduce you to these four new executive production staff that will be working with you from today. They are the sharpest and most creative candidates, and some are even coming from overseas. Please let me introduce...” she gestured to each of us, gave us a moment to bow, and tell these ... men ... that we looked forward to working hard together.

You realized there were only eight of them standing there in front of you. It didn’t feel real. ...Aren’t there thirteen of them? you wondered.

And then, as if summoned, three more of them appeared from the other side of the long room—the boys who you’d seen talking into a camera. You involuntarily caught eyes with one of them, briefly. He bowed slightly, his kind eyes crinkling.

Cute... you thought involuntarily, quickly averting your eyes and bowing slightly.

You recognized him. “Joshua.” His Korean name was “Hong Jisoo.” You wondered what to call him... You’d both lived in America, right? “Joshua” was fine, right?

“And this is Y/N, coming to us from the United States,” the tour guide said. You snapped out of it, turning to the members and bowing quickly, unable to look at them directly to see their reactions.

“It’s nice to meet all of you!”

Fuck, I sound so nervous. What the hell...

“Nice to meet you!”

“Thank you for being here!”

“Whoa, you’re American!”

“Do you speak Korean?”

“Really? Wow!”

“Wait, you know Korean?”

“We go to America all the time.”

Again, a flurry of words flew from the crowd of boys. You don’t really realize until you’re in front of this many people, but 13 is a lot... you continued to stare nowhere in particular, just avoiding their faces. But even judging by their feet, there were still only 11 of them.

As Jiyeon and the young man—who had finally put his phone away—bowed shyly and exchanged some words with a couple of the members... from what you could tell... That one must be “Hoshi”... a surprisingly average-height man with bleached blonde hair and a baggy hoodie on, speaking politely with Jiyeon, who was covering half of her face with her hand.

“Nice to meet you.” A velvety voice came from right next to you, and you jumped a little in spite of yourself before turning to face the most angelic looking man you’d ever seen in your life—grinning softly and staring right at you. You managed just a fraction of a second of eye contact before averting your gaze, positive that your face was flushed and Yoon Jeonghan could absolutely tell.

“Nice to meet you.” You bowed, suddenly conscious of every tiny gesture you were making, wondering if you shouldn’t have worn your hair down—if a ponytail or a bun would have looked more polished, or maybe you chose the wrong outfit, the wrong shoes...

“Thank you for your work,” another voice came from next to Jeonghan, and you turned and bowed. It was Seungcheol, the leader. He looked spectacular up close. They all did. It was like they weren’t even real. You couldn’t believe that real people could look so stunning, just casually.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol joined the other members, and everyone exchanged greetings before gradually returning to practice.

You couldn’t help but look at him again. He was so beautiful. You’d never seen someone like him before. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You didn’t even care how red your face probably was. How he had such a beautiful face, and a slight build... but he looked so strong at the same time. You glanced in his direction before the tour guide rounded you up again to leave for the day.

But he was already looking right at you.

It was too unbelievable for you to look away...

“Welcome,” he mouthed at you, smiling as you were led out of the room—completely speechless.

Your eyes stayed locked until you were out of sight.

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criminal-act7 · 5 months ago

Text

The Worst

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Blk reader

Genre: angst and nothing but angst. Smut is just a bonus.

Summary: You left the BAU 4 years ago in pursuit of a new career. You and Spencer made the long-distance work until you couldn’t. Two months after the breakup, Spencer and you meet up for closure.

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (f), fingering

Notes: it's been so long since I've written smut, so I'm kinda rusty. Low key I had Don't Smile by Sabrina carpenter in mu head now. I hope you guys enjoy!

Two days ago, everything was perfect. You had returned to D.C. to visit your old friends and colleagues at the BAU, and of course, to see your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. It had been two years since you left the BAU to study music theory in the Twin Cities, and now you were about to start teaching in Minneapolis. While you missed Spencer dearly, and he missed you, too, the long-distance visits hadn’t been enough. But this time felt different.

Spencer surprised you with a romantic dinner, and just when you thought it couldn't get better, he proposed. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, knowing Spencer’s cautious nature meant the timing had to be just right. But when he finally asked, your answer was easy. Yes. Of course, yes.

Now, curled up in his arms on the couch, you feel the warmth of his presence, the joy of being together again. But tonight, as Spencer begins to talk about the future, you realize that your dreams may not be as aligned as you once thought.

“You’re not serious right now,” you say, disbelief threading through your voice.

“I am,” Spencer replies, his gaze steady on yours. He gently brushes his fingers across your knuckles.

“Spencer, I can’t just drop everything and move back to D.C. I just started teaching in Minnesota.”

“I know, but if we act now, we can get this amazing house—”

“Wait, what? You’ve already been looking at houses?”

He averts his eyes for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “I found one. It’s perfect for us. There’s even a wishing well in the backyard. We’re getting married, Y/N. Why not plan for the future?”

“We got engaged two days ago! Spencer, we have time. We don’t need to rush.”

“I know,” he says, his voice softening, “but I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, we don’t know what could happen.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I get it. I used to work at the BAU, I understand. But I don’t want to give up teaching. This is something I love.”

“You don’t have to give it up,” Spencer says, leaning forward, trying to bridge the gap between you. “You could teach in D.C. or even Virginia.”

You shake your head, already knowing where this conversation is headed. “Spencer, I’m not leaving Minnesota. These kids need me. Music gives them a creative outlet. It helps keep them out of trouble.”

He pauses, his voice quiet now. “What about me?”

Your heart tightens at his words. “What about you? We text every day, we talk on the phone, and we video chat when we can.”

“It’s not the same,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing the back of your hand.

“If you miss me so much, you could come to Minnesota,” you offer with a hopeful smile.

“And do what? Teach?” He lets out a small laugh, but there’s no real humor in it.

“You’d make a hot professor,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t land.

“I don’t want to teach, Y/N. That’s your dream, not mine.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m staying in Minnesota,” you reply. “This makes me happy. I’m finally doing something meaningful, something that fulfills me.”

“You were doing meaningful work before,” Spencer argues, his voice rising slightly. “You saved lives. You were a great profiler.”

“And how many lives did we lose? How many victims never got justice?” Your voice wavers. “I wasn’t happy in that life, Spencer. Not like I am now.”

He exhales, his frustration evident. “So, how do we make this work? You in Minnesota, me in D.C.?”

“I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I thought we’d figure it out.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t just ‘figure it out.’ What, do you think we can hop on planes every weekend, or after I finish a case?”

“Well, if you didn’t have this all figured out, why did you propose?” you ask, feeling the tension rise between you.

“Because I did have it figured out!” he snaps, his voice sharp. “You’re the one who changed the plan, refusing to come with me.”

“I didn’t refuse,” you say, your tone turning defensive. “I just can’t drop my life because you want me to live yours.”

“We’re in a relationship, Y/N! You’re not single anymore. I’ve always supported you. Why can’t you do the same for me?”

“I’m not saying you haven’t supported me. But why should I give up my dream for yours?”

“Because I don’t think you’d be happy long-term!” Spencer exclaims. “You never mentioned any of this before. Then suddenly, you tell me you’re teaching in Minnesota, out of nowhere.”

You stare at him, the weight of his words settling in. “You don’t think I’d be happy?” he looks you in the eyes, his gaze starting into your soul.

“Not in the long run. No.”

“And who’s to say I’d be happy with you?” The words slip out before you can stop them.

Spencer’s face falls, his expression pained. “What do you mean?”

“You think I’d be happy moving to D.C., working at the BAU again, getting married, having kids? That’s your plan, Spencer. Not mine.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” he says, his voice faltering. “We talked about this before we even started dating—marriage, kids, everything.”

“That was seven years ago. We’ve both changed. I’ve changed.” you pointed at yourself as you tell him the truth. He realized that too of course the distance away from him was going to change him.

His face hardens, hurt mixing with anger. “Then why did you say yes?”

“Because I love you, Spencer,” you say, your voice cracking. “And because I thought maybe, somehow, we could still make it work.” you cry as tears fall down your face.

“But how can we, if you’re across the country?” The silence that follows is thick, heavy. You both know the answer before it’s spoken.

“We can’t,” you whisper.

“So… that’s it? We break up?” His voice is hollow, as if he’s already accepted the outcome.

“I—I think we have to,” you say, tears stinging your eyes.

He nods slowly, his jaw tight. “Alright.” You reach for his hand, but he pulls it away gently.

“Spencer… I’m sorry.” you let out a sob trying to wipe your tears away.

“Me too.” he says getting up to go into his room and you stayed on the couch crying as you knew he was doing the same. Neither of you wanted this outcome but you also didn't want each other to be miserable.

The next morning, you woke up before Spencer. Quietly, you packed your things, your heart heavy with the weight of last night's conversation. You had booked an earlier flight back to Minnesota, hoping to slip out unnoticed, to avoid another painful confrontation.

As you approached the front door with your bag in hand, you paused, glancing toward the bedroom—the one you had shared with him so many times before. To your surprise, Spencer was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes red and swollen from a sleepless night.

"I thought you'd at least have the courage to say goodbye," he says, his voice low and rough. He looks just as broken as you feel, like neither of you have gotten any rest.

“Spencer…” you start, but the words don’t come. He doesn’t look at you, staring at the floor instead. Now he was angry seeing you sneaking into his room to leave the ring and some note.

“Just… leave the ring and go. Please.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you reach for the ring on your finger. Slowly, reluctantly, you pull it off, feeling the cool metal slide away from your skin. For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the symbol of the future you had once wanted so badly.

Tears blur your vision as you gently place the ring on the nightstand beside him. "I'm sorry," you whisper, knowing it’s not enough. Without another word, you turn and walk out the door, leaving behind the life you thought you would share.

That was the last time you saw Spencer. The breakup was rough on both of you. No matter how much time passed, reminders of him lingered in your life. A month later, a couple of boxes from Spencer arrived at your doorstep—your things from his apartment, meticulously packed and sent back to you. It was everything you had left there, down to the smallest items. The gesture felt like a final goodbye, a clear sign that he had moved on. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. You still had his things. A couple of his shirts, some books, and photos. They haunted you in the quiet moments when you were alone, a reminder of a future that would never be.

Your friend Cassie had advised you to collect his things and move on. “You need closure,” she told you, gently pushing you to take the steps toward healing. But you didn’t at first. You couldn’t. Then, without telling you, she set you up on a date.

His name was Scott. He was a high school English teacher, loved to read, worked out, and was just coming out of his own messy breakup. On your first date, you clicked in a way that surprised you. It felt easy with him, natural. The two of you saw each other a few times, and before long, it had been a month of dates, good conversation, and the start of something promising. But there was one problem.

Every time you went home, Spencer’s presence was still there. His shirts hanging in the closet, the photos of you two tucked in drawers, even old messages you hadn’t deleted. Sometimes you would sit in silence, imagining what his life was like now, wondering if he had moved on in the same way. You’d catch yourself thinking about texting Garcia to ask how he was, but you stopped yourself. Your former colleagues—your friends—were all still close to Spencer. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. Not after what happened. You figured it wasn’t your place anymore.

One evening, after a date with Scott, Cassie sat with you in your apartment, and you confessed the nagging feeling you couldn’t shake.

“I feel stuck,” you admitted, pushing Spencer’s shirt aside in your closet. “Every time I try to move on, it’s like he’s still here.”

Cassie nodded, understanding. “You need closure. Real closure. Get rid of his things, talk to him if you need to, but you can’t keep holding onto pieces of him if you want to move forward.”

Her words sunk in, and you realized she was right. So, you broke things off with Scott—kindly, letting him know it wasn’t fair to either of you while you were still processing your past. Then you sent Spencer a text, asking if the two of you could meet to talk. You weren’t sure if he would reply, or if he’d even want to. But you needed to try.

Spencer had tried to move on after the breakup. On the outside, he seemed fine—throwing himself into work, keeping busy with cases. But back at home, it hit him harder. The apartment was eerily quiet without you there. Your photos, the calendar you’d hung with important dates for the both of you, the clothes you left behind—all were reminders of a life that wasn’t his anymore.

What broke him the most was the engagement ring. He found it on the floor after you left, a painful symbol of what could have been. After a sleepless night, he called Derek to vent about it.

“You have to start moving on, man,” Derek had said over the phone. “It doesn’t have to be today, but the sooner you let go, the better you’ll feel.”

So, with Derek, J.J., and Garcia’s help, Spencer gathered all your belongings, packed them into boxes, and sent them to you. It felt like closure at the time, like he was making a step toward healing. He thought he was done with it. Done with you.

Until your text came.

At first, he didn’t recognize the number. It was a message from someone he thought he had put behind him, someone he wasn’t prepared to hear from again. The message explained that it was you, asking if you could meet up to talk.

Spencer stared at his phone for a long time. He felt his heart tighten in his chest, fear rising up. He didn’t want to see you. Getting rid of your things was one thing, but seeing your face—he couldn’t handle that. Not now, not after the progress he had made. So, he never replied.

---

Time has a strange way of healing, but also of leaving scars. Neither of you contacted the other again. A month after you sent that text, you realized you didn’t need to hear his voice to get the closure you sought. You packed up his things and put them away then, you tried to forget.

But life, as it often does, has its own plans.

Two months later, Spencer found himself heading to Minnesota. He never imagined he’d end up there, of all places, in the middle of February. You had moved on in your own way, and by then, you had nearly forgotten that you once asked to meet up. You had put the past behind you—or so you thought. But some things refuse to stay buried.

“Are you sure about this, Reid?” Morgan asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans against Spencer’s hotel door. They had just finished a case today and the team was leaving Spencer had decided to stay another day. No one needed to question why he needed to as they knew the answer.

“Yes, I think it’s time,” Spencer replied, though his voice wavered ever so slightly.

J.J. leaned forward, her face full of concern. “Do you think it’s wise to meet with her after she contacted you two months ago?”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, probably not. But she said she wanted to talk, and I should at least hear her out.” J.J. exchanged a glance with Morgan, but neither of them said anything. They both knew Spencer was the kind of person who needed closure, even if it hurt. Pulling out his phone, Spencer dialed Garcia’s number. It rang twice before her familiar voice came through the line.

“You have reached your tech goddess. How may I help you today?” Garcia chirped, her usual brightness evident even over the phone.

“Garcia, can you check if Y/N has a new address?”

There was a pause. “Wait… you want to see Y/N? Are you okay, Reid?” Her voice softened with concern.

“Yes, I’m okay to meet with her,” Spencer replied, but the hesitation lingered beneath his words.

Garcia was quiet for a beat before she said, “Are you sure *she’s* okay to meet with you? I know she asked to meet you, but that was two months ago, and—”

“I know,” Spencer interrupted gently. “I’ll call her before I show up.”

Garcia let out a long breath. “Alright, if you say so. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but her address is still the same. I’ve sent it to you. Good luck, and please, be safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Garcia,” he said, appreciating her concern.

“This is a bad idea, right?” Morgan questioned as he watched Spencer walk out the door going off to see you. A bad feeling coming onto him.

“Oh, it is,” J.J. agreed, crossing her arms.

It was an ordinary Thursday night, or at least it started that way. You sat on your couch, a bottle of wine nearby, your laptop on your lap, grading papers turned in by your students. The TV was on in the background, playing a movie you’d seen a hundred times. The cold Minnesota winter had gifted you a snow day, so you decided to get some work done now and relax later.

That plan was interrupted when a knock echoed through your apartment. Setting your laptop aside, you paused the movie and stood, walking to the door. When you opened it, you blinked in confusion.

There stood Spencer Reid, bundled up against the cold, his breath visible in the frosty air.

"Reid, what are you doing here?" Your voice was flat, surprise and confusion mixing with a slight edge.

“I came to see you,” Spencer said, shifting nervously on his feet. “I know it’s been a while, but I got your text and thought… why not?”

You stared at him, brow furrowed. “Reid, that was *two months ago*.”

“I know I’m late,” he said quickly, his eyes flicking to the ground before meeting yours again. “But I just finished a case, and I thought—”

“Thought what?” you interrupted, your tone sharper than you intended. “Look, I know I texted you first, but that was then.”

Spencer’s face tightened, a flash of frustration crossing his features. “Well, I wasn’t ready to see you *then*, that’s the issue. You want what you want when you want it.”

You folded your arms, eyebrows raised. “Who doesn’t?”

The tension hung between you for a moment before Spencer sighed. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight, Y/N. Please, can we just talk?”

You paused, considering. After a long breath, you relented. “Fine, you’ve got 30 minutes.”

“Give me 15,” he bargained, his voice quieter, almost pleading.

“You have 10 minutes," you replied, stepping aside and motioning for him to come in. "Starting now."

Spencer shifted nervously, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, snow still clinging to his shoes. You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He walked in slowly, glancing around as if expecting something to have changed, but your apartment was much the same as it had always been—warm, cluttered with books and papers, and smelling faintly of the lavender candle you always burned.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorway. “Alright, ten minutes. Start talking.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I didn’t respond right away because… I wasn’t ready. After everything that happened, I had to figure out how to deal with it. Losing you—losing us—it messed me up more than I realized. I thought sending your things back would help me move on, but it didn’t. I needed time, and I’m sorry I didn’t answer you earlier.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I get it, Spencer. But you don’t get to just show up here months later and expect me to drop everything. I’ve been working on moving on, too.”

“I know,” he said quickly, looking down at the floor. “I’m not here to mess that up. I just… I thought if we could talk, maybe we could get some closure. Properly this time.”

“Closure?” you repeated, a touch of bitterness in your voice. “And you think showing up unannounced is the way to do that?”

He winced, realizing how it must have looked. “I didn’t plan it well, I know. But I’ve thought about you every day since the breakup. I’ve wondered if we could’ve handled things differently, if we could’ve made it work.”

You stood there, feeling your heart race. Part of you had longed for this conversation, this chance to get clarity on what had happened. But now that it was here, all it did was stir up emotions you thought you had buried.

“You think about it now?” you asked, voice quieter. “You’re the one who packed up my things and sent them back like we were just some temporary fling. That hurt, Spencer. It felt like you had already moved on.”

Spencer’s face softened, regret written in his eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to feel that way. I thought it would help you… and me."

You shook your head, pacing a bit to release the tension building inside. “I’ve been trying to move forward, Reid. I was even seeing someone And you know what? I liked him. He’s a good guy, but I couldn’t fully be with him because I kept holding on… to us.”

Spencer looked at you, his expression tightening at the mention of Scott, but he quickly pushed it aside. “I’m not asking for anything other than to talk. I don’t expect us to get back together. I just didn’t want us to leave things the way we did.”

You stopped pacing and looked at him, really looked at him, noticing the weight he carried in his eyes. “So, what do you want from this conversation, Spencer? What do you need?”

"I just wanted to talk to you to see if we could I don’t know be friends again"

"Are you serious?" you said, your voice sharp with disbelief. "I wanted it to work so badly, Spencer. I uprooted my life to try and meet you halfway, but it was like you couldn’t see that."

Spencer’s expression tightened. "I didn’t feel like you were meeting me halfway. You were building a whole new life in Minnesota, and I felt like I was barely a part of it. You didn’t tell me about your teaching job until you had already accepted it."

"I didn’t think I needed to ask your permission to follow my dreams," you shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I wanted to do something for me, something that gave me purpose."

"And I get that," he said, his tone softening, "but I was supposed to be part of your life too. I felt like you were pulling away, like every decision you made was just... you choosing a life without me in it."

You sighed, the weight of his words sinking in. "I wasn’t trying to choose a life without you, Spencer. I was trying to find a life where we could both be happy. But it felt like every time I chose something for me, it meant choosing against you."

Spencer rubbed his hands over his face, clearly torn. "I wanted you to be happy too. I just... I wanted to be part of that happiness. But I didn’t know how to balance your dreams with mine."

“I know. And that’s why it didn’t work.” You shook your head, the sadness creeping back in. “We both wanted to be happy, but we didn’t know how to make that happen together.”

“So now what?” Spencer asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You came here for me. We talked it out. I’m done talking. I have your things. I can ship them out tomorrow.”

“You still have my things?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“I can’t forget you, Spencer. Unlike you did,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Spencer looked at you, his eyes pained. “That’s my girl! Still can pull the verbal punches!” he says sarcastically as he watches you disappear into the hallway.

“I’m not your girl anymore!” you snapped, feeling a surge of frustration. As you look through your closet for Spencer’s box.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Spencer said quickly, his tone apologetic as you came back into the room. Once you find it you look at your room one last time and then you see it. That Sanrio plush Cinnamonroll, it was the first birthday gift Spencer had given you. You loved the thing and still do.

“Here’s your things,” you said, handing him a box filled with his belongings.

He reached on top of the sealed box and grabbed the small cinnamon roll plush. “This was a birthday gift... You’re really giving this back?”

“Yeah,” you said, tears threatening to spill. “It’s the last reminder of you, Reid.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. But whether you like it or not, we’ll always have a part of each other in our hearts,” Spencer said softly.

“I know,” you replied, trying to hold back your tears.

“And I’m never going to forget you,” Spencer added, his voice breaking.

“I know that,” you said, your own voice trembling.

“But I have to do what feels right,” Spencer said. “And so do you.”

“Yeah…” you agreed, wiping away a tear.

Without warning, Spencer stepped closer and kissed you gently. The kiss was full of unresolved feelings, the pain of the past, and the hope of what could have been. It was a goodbye you both needed, but it was also a reminder of what you once had.

As the kiss ended, you both pulled away, your eyes locked with his. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of everything unsaid and everything you both had shared.

Spencer took a deep breath, his face etched with sadness. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Spencer,” you whispered, watching as he walked out the door, taking a part of your heart with him.

Thirty minutes later, as the storm outside raged on, Spencer found himself knocking on your door again. The wind howled, and snow battered against the windows. His team had left an hour ago, and he’d been unable to reach his hotel due to the worsening weather. With nowhere else to go, he found himself back at your doorstep.

When you opened the door, Spencer’s heart sank at the sight of you still crying. His own emotions surged as he took in your tear-streaked face. Without a word, he pulled you into a fervent kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the words you both hadn’t said, all the pain you hadn’t fully expressed.

"I'm sorry-" kiss "I didn’t mean-to comeback I just- fuck" he tried to explain himself but he couldn’t stop your lips from meshing with his. This was messed up and you both knew you just didn't care. The kisses become more passionate as he pushes you against the door, grabbing your hips pinning you. Kissing down you neck as you let out a heavy sigh finally able to think.

"Spencer what are we- fuck what are we doing?" You ask as Spencer brings his hands under your and grabs hold of your breasts. It turned him on knowing you had no bra underneath this shirt the whole time.

Pulling up your shirt over your head he answers "what feels right" he says going back to kissing you this his tongue slides his way into your mouth. Your body wanted no need for this as you decided to speed things up Spencer had another approach. He quickly slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how aroused you were.

"Fuck-" He groans the tip of his fingers running against your slick folds as you moan. "You're so wet for me" you couldn’t respond to him as he pushes his fingers inside you both groan. You move your legs wider and you need more as he pushes in deeper, your hips pushing against his hand. His fingers curl up inside you, as you start to whine. Pushing them in and out second by second driving you crazy and he didn't want anything but that.

"Fuck I forgot how good you are at this" you let out as Spencer says nothing getting onto his knees then pulling down your shorts along with your underwear. You stared at him as he completely removed his hand from your pussy. Before he could say anything he brought one of your legs onto his shoulders before completely devouring you. Groaning at the taste of you, he missed this he missed you. The sound of your moans were music to his ears as he licked in-between your folds. Your hands going into his hair hoping he'd push his tongue into you. That was all Spencer needed; he never forgot how to please you. He knew your ticks inside and out. His pants felt so strained against his cock bust first he wanted you to cum on his tongue for him and only him.

"Ohhh god Spencer!" You cry as he pushes his tongue into you feeling it tense up inside you making your thighs clench in response. His tongue moves vertically and then wiggles slightly pulling you into this back and forth of need and desire. The pleasure makes you feel dizzy, pulling on his hair tighter. Spencer lets out a groan sending a vibration through your very core. He licked your clit with long, slow strokes, his tongue pushing inside you as he ate you out aggressively. He used his hands to spread your lips apart, giving him better access to your pussy.

"Spence, ohhh yes! Yes!" Spencer loved how responsive you were, your hips bucking against his face as he continued to devour you. He felt your hands grip his hair tightly once again, pulling him closer. He could barely breathe, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make you come on his face.

"Spencer!" You screamed his name as Spencer felt your body tense, he gripped your hips tightly, holding you down as he continued to ravish your core. He felt your body convulse, your thighs quivering as you shattered against his mouth. He lapped up your juices, cleaning you up before helping you back onto your feet. He wasn't done and you weren’t either.

The two of you kiss passionately as you move to the bedroom as you both try to get Spencer’s clothes off. His vest, shoes, and belt laid in a trail towards your bedroom. When he finally gets into your bed you both couldn't help entangling your bodies together. Both of your moans and groans fill the room as you grind against one another. Spencer knew how worked up you get when it came to clothing. He wanted to watch you squirm under him, beg him to fuck you. Maybe beg him to take you back. But you were impatient tearing his shirt as buttons flew everywhere. You then changed your positions as you sat on top of him kissing his neck and down to his chest.

He looked at you surprised as then at your body. He pictured you riding him for the last time. Admiring how pretty you look and starting picturing you crying as you reached your climax coming apart for him. Even after all this time you were still so pretty to him. Like a goddess, his goddess. If this was the last time he couldn't ruin you like he wanted to, he wanted to make love to you once last time.

Flipping you back over onto the bed he gets up and starts removing his clothes. While he does this you can't help but wonder was this right? Whatever this was, it was messy and complicated and I thought this was one night. What's going to happen tomorrow?

"Spencer, are you sure you want this?" You ask as Spencer looks at you.

"Y/n I just had oral sex with you 5 minutes ago and you're asking me if I want this?" Your heart starts beating faster as he moves closer to the bed. That look he gave you as he slowly walked towards the bed.

"I-I know but-" "But what baby?" You don't say anything as the grabs onto your ankles and pull you towards the edge of the bed.

"Spencer tomorrow-" he cuts you off looking at you in the eyes, his body pressing against yours as his fingers trails down your thighs and back to your pussy. Touching your folds running circles on your clit before dipping it inside of you again. His fingers pumping in and out of your hole until he had enough.

"Fuck tomorrow I want to make love to you tonight" he says kissing your lips once more as you let him push his cock inside you. All doubts expelling in thoughts as all you could think about Spencer putting his dick inside you. Spencer groaned softly as he slowly entered you, he missed this he missed you. Pushing inch by inch gives you both time to readjust. Laying kisses down your neck, his hands cupping your boob's as he kisses those too. Sucking on your nipple as he thrusts inside you.

"So good you feel so good baby" he whispers in your ear, setting a steady pace. His hips snapping against yours as he fucks you.

"Ahh- I miss this so much" you moan out as Spencer doesn’t say anything going a little faster as he looks you "you're so fucking pretty" he groans as you run your fingers in his hair pulling him into another kiss. His hips moving faster feeling you clenching around him. Your legs wrapping around his and his hands starting to grip your hips. The bed creaking and the frame hitting the wall but you both didn't care.

Spencer buried his head into your neck as his thrusts had gone harder and faster. You were milking him clenching around him, you were close he knew it. He needed you to cum all over his cock.

"Spence- Spence please!" You cry as Spencer looks up at you in awe "shhh you don't have to beg baby, I'm here" he groans as he shifts his weight and it drove you crazy. Keeping with that angle he thrusts harder and harder making you do nothing but cry and scream his name.

"Look at me baby" you look Spencer in the eyes, something in the way that he looked sent you over the edge. You came around his cock and in a few more thrusts he couldn't take it anymore. You felt his cock twitching inside you.

"Spencer cum for me please" Spencer tried to pull out but you quickly pulled him back in. He let out a cry as he came inside you for the first time in a long time.

The two of you didn't stop there, you both couldn't keep your hands off each other. On your floor, the dresser, in the shower, and in your bed again. Both leaving marks and scratches behind on one another. You didn't know how tomorrow was gonna go but that was something you wanted to deal with in the morning.

The next morning, Spencer woke up first. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your face as you slept beside him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel happy. Being with you again, in this quiet, peaceful moment, felt right.

But then the weight of reality sank in.

Nothing had been solved. If anything, last night had made things even more complicated. The storm outside may have passed, but the one between you both still raged, unresolved. Spencer stared at the ceiling, the feeling of unease growing.

He gently slid out of bed, careful not to wake you. As he stood by the window, staring out at the snow-covered streets, Spencer’s mind raced. How could he go back to D.C. after this? Could he even walk away again, knowing what had just happened between you.

"Good morning, pretty boy," you say, looking up at Spencer with a sleepy smile, your hair a mess. He stares at you, noticing the faint hickies on your neck and the light bruising on your chest. You seemed happy about last night, and that only made the guilt gnaw at him even more.

This couldn't work. He knew that.

"Y/N, we need to talk," he says quietly, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You roll onto your side, propping your head up with your hand. "I know, Spencer. Look, I miss you like crazy. And I know we hooked up last night, but... give me a year or two, and I'll come back. I could teach in D.C., or Virginia—wherever. I just want to be with you."

"I can’t," Spencer interrupts, his voice tense.

Your face falls, confusion clouding your expression. "What? Why not?"

He sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Y/N, last night was... great, but I think we shouldn't have done it."

It hits you like a punch to the gut. "No," you whisper, disbelief setting in. "You're not doing this to me."

Spencer looks at you, his face pained. "I think last night was just... spur of the moment. We were both emotionally vulnerable, caught up in everything. I think the only reason you're so quick to compromise is because of the sex."

"Are you—" You sit up, fury bubbling in your chest. "You're an asshole, Spencer. You know that?" You shake your head in disbelief.

"I want you to be happy," he says, his voice soft but firm.

You let out a bitter laugh. "That's rich."

"I'm serious. I don't want you to make a decision based on one night of meaningless sex."

"Is that how low you think of me? You think this was *meaningless* to me?" Your voice cracks as the anger mixes with hurt.

"No, it’s not that. But you love teaching here, and I don’t want you to come back for me and wake up one day realizing you’re not happy with your life. You deserve more than that." You couldn’t believe this, you couldn’t believe he was here saying this to your face. Here you thought you could make your relationship work again. Hold onto the love you once shared. Thinking that you could compromise yet here Spencer was breaking your heart all over again.

"Get out of my apartment," you snap, your voice cold, the betrayal clear.

"Y/N, at least understand—"

"No!" you cut him off, your eyes flashing with anger. "You said everything you needed to say last night. Now leave." He wanted to say something else, he wanted you to know that he loved you and that he was letting you go because he did. "Go!" You screamed, making him jump as you threw your pillow at him and missed.

Spencer stands there for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any chance to explain, but the message is clear. He quickly gathers his things, his heart heavy with sadness as he walks out of the room, the door closing behind him with a final, painful thud.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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f1version · 2 years ago

Text

MY PERSON ★ CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x no-socials!reader

summary: Charles posts an update on your relationship with a beautiful message.

note: a little something that might cease the possible heartbreak of the race or might be a celebration for all tifosi.

kind of part two here

charlesleclerc

Liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 1,718,569 others

charlesleclerc Today I made the most important and easiest decision of my life. That beautiful woman in the pictures is Y/n Y/l/n, soon to be Y/n Y/l/n-Leclerc, you may not know about her a lot since she prefers to keep a lower profile, but i’m so glad I have the privilege to know her. And now to love her for the rest of our lives.

Y/n you’re the love of my life. I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you how in love with you and how much you mean to me for it to be enough. It’ll never be enough, at least for me. You are my happiness, you are sunshine and midnight rain.

Mon amour, you and I know love is about finding the person who completes what you are missing, loves what you share, stays during hard times, and celebrates the good ones. Y/n, ten months ago, when I started planing my proposal, I realized that you were that person for me because of a question Pierre asked me: Does she make you a better version of yourself, one you ever dreamed you could be? And I could only say yes. Just looking into your eyes, I understand how you feel, looking into your eyes I see you, i’m in love with you. You are my soulmate, my person.

Mon coeur est bien,

Charles.

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arthur_leclerc I have a new favorite family member

charlesleclerc i love you too or whatever

pierregasly my biggest flex: I played a crucial role into this, charles is too stupid

pierregasly imagine if the ring fell onto the snow

andferrari007 it did

charlesleclerc please don’t remind me that

danielricciardo If you mess up i will unalive you, and then y/n and i will marry as the best friends we are 🫡

charlesleclerc HAHA no

danielricciardo you will see

maxverstappen1 charles run

landonorris CHARLES YOU DID IT AAAAHHHHHH

charlesleclerc I DID IT

carlossainz55 Felicidades!! ❤️

charlesleclerc Gracias, Carlos❤️

lewishamilton You’ll be the happiest, I know it 💙

charlesleclerc ❤️❤️

sebastianvettel Congrats, Charles and Y/n! Hoping you have a wonderful marriage and life together.❤️

charlesleclerc Thank you, Seb! Love you.

joris__trouche Photos by me y’all, I was there to watch Charles almost piss himself!!!!

charlesleclerc SHUT UP I WAS FULLY CONFIDENT

joris__trouche sure mate, at least hope one kid is named after me 😔

charlesleclerc I don’t enjoy Joris Leclerc

arthur_leclerc what about Arthur Leclerc

charlesleclerc not calling them after you 😐

maxverstappen1 I have a better one ✨Max Leclerc✨

charlesleclerc please never say that again

pierregasly pierre leclerc

charlesleclerc STOP

Your head rests on Charles’ shoulders, he scrolls through the comments of your family, friends, loved ones, and Charles’ colleagues. He laughs at the discussion about his future child’s name, his dimples showing perfectly.

“Have you imagined that?” The brown-haired man spoke out of nowhere, turning down to look you in the eyes.

“Imagine what, Charlie?” You reply, needing slight confirmation of what he is referring to.

"Children, a family... you know, the whole future after this happens" the green-eyed continued, pointing at the ring on your finger at the end, making you blush quickly.

“Of course, I have, mon chéri, you?”

"More than once, ange, I want everything with you" He answers sweetly. Charles was so in love with you since he asked you to be his girlfriend, he hadn’t imagined a future without you. He imagined you and him, traveling the world, a beautiful, healthy family, and him and you fulfilling your dreams together. You were all reasons he had to smile on the darkest days.

You, on her side, looked at your fiancé, curious and somewhat captivated by him. Charles’ look made you feel, so in love, you might burst. You felt confident with your decisions, and with your life.

About ten months ago, when Charles and you were at the Italian GP, Charles said he loved you, he said those two words, and you echoed him. You were completely sure you loved him. But when it came to "I'm in love with you" it was a long process, you didn’t play with those words.

I love you meant a promise only you could give, only you could get for him. It meant: I want you to be happy. But I'm in love with you meant that promise would be kept even if it wasn’t with you, it was giving your heart forever. It meant: I want you to be happy, even without me.

It may seem like a ridiculous concept to some people, they are words, but words are the source of expression the majority of humans possess.

They say that actions are worth a thousand words, however, it’s never suggested words are not valuable, or everlasting.

For you, they were everlasting, once you said them there was no going back. Two years later after the ‘i love you’ Charles said to be in love with you. But it was not your time, and Charles didn’t mind waiting for you to be ready.

And when you were ready, it was perfect.

You were at home in Monaco that day. During sunrise, you and Charles made love as if the world was ending; by morning you went hiking, and while being on top of the world, you realized. You realized you didn't care if you ended up heartbroken, you were ready to put the past and future aside and just live in the present.

“Charles,” You said that day, he looked at you so deeply, waiting. “I'm in love with you.”

He kissed you after that, just like he was kissing you now after you said the same thing, the difference being the place, and the fact that you had an engagement ring on your finger.

“Thanks for choosing me.” The Monegasque whisper. He kept kissing you, bringing you closer to him, showing you with actions how much he appreciated your existence.

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qin-qin16 · 2 months ago

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Chromatic Crew and Murder Time Trio Poly existing at the same time, BUT with two Killers.

The first, one of the few to survive for so long in the tar-like claws of Nightmare, was also the first to meet Murder and Horror. The relationship between them was troubled, something… mediocre – too superficial to be friends, but too deep to be just “work colleagues”. In a way, they managed to understand each other, together in some way in that deep, dark hole that was being under the rule of the Lord of Negativity.

But this Killer had met Color – they had already made promises to escape together even before Murder and Horror came into the picture. They can manage without me, Killer thought while watching Murder pretend to sleep on one of the countless nights they shared. I’ve taught them everything they needed to know, he pondered when he saw Horror hold back the bitter words he wanted to say against Nightmare, knowing that it would only end with his bones being broken.

It’s not like they would notice my absence, I can be selfish for once, was his last thought about them, before finally fleeing far from his past, to start over alongside Color (and later, the other members of the Chromatic Crew). And of course, being safe in the Omega Timeline, Nightmare couldn’t just enter there and reclaim his subordinate/slave. In fact, after thinking for a long time while venting his anger on the other residents of the abandoned castle where they lived, Nightmare realized it was only a matter of time before that Killer escaped from his grasp.

It was obvious, that thing had already met its most faithful liberator; all Nightmare had to do was get a new one and prevent this one from having the same hope as the former. It wasn’t hard to capture another stray Killer, suffering after so many resets – hungry for a moment of silence and painlessness.

Nightmare didn’t even try to hide that this Killer was a different one – it wasn’t hard for Horror and Murder to figure that out either. In a way, it was easier for this Killer (whom I will name Kei to avoid confusion) to adapt, having two other skeletons to guide him, just as the other had done with them. Kei was more curious, less cautious with his actions, almost like an animal playing with the traps set for him.

Horror and Murder, having spent more time together, had no trouble including Kei in their activities – in missions, in the few dinners they shared, in the sleepless nights when one of them remained alert, awake for any imagined intruder. The three were like wild dogs: needing sacrifices to place their trust, whether time, attention, or a vital part of their body – gnawing on each other’s bones as a way to show that they trusted one another.

It would be interesting if, after some time, the three of them planned to escape from Nightmare as well – there was nothing there holding them except themselves. Of course, they didn’t have an Omega Timeline to escape to, and no allies who would help them if they could finally hide. But perhaps living on the run was better than remaining in the clutches of that true devil.

Uhhh idk who would like to see this but i want to tag more of my mutuals so, @spuirrelwiththeletterp @t3m1 @suorgummiis (since you three seemed interested) @what-have-i-unleashed (because i used your mermaid bunny au for this) @triglycercule (no this is not my mtt poly chart) @howlsofbloodhounds (because well… Killers here)

yes i need to justify the tags

#qinqin headcanons 💖#utmv #killer sans #horror sans #dust sans #murder sans #color sans #mtt poly #mtt #chromatic crew #<- just implied #sans ship #sansshipping #in a way

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kiss-me-muchoo · 8 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ He pushed you away some time ago. You forgave him, but Miguel realizes intentions don’t mean much and he wants you back.

Warnings_ age gap! (I’m 20, Miguel is around 28-31, bear with me), angst, fluff.

A/N_ this is The Craving from Twenty One Pilots, I loved the new album. and imgonnagetyouback from Taygod Swift, BOTH IN MY MIGUEL PLAYLIST🩷

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_____________

Waves of silence crash all over the Spider Society. Miguel O’Hara had just told Miles Morales that he had to let his father die to protect canon. Your guts twist in an odd feeling, you feel a bad omen. The chase had been tough, your insecurity playing with your head as you knew Miles had the right to choose his destiny.

Canon had been fair with you, offering you light problems compared to others. So you wished every spider had the same destiny as yourself.

Now seeing that Miles was gone thanks to the “Go Home Machine”, you couldn’t let Gwen to follow the same path.

“Miguel… you can’t send Gwen home. She’s vital for this.” You say quickly stepping up against the man who was intimidating the sixteen-year-old girl.

“I don’t need more problems than we already have. I restate… she’s a liability” Gwen pleads you with scared eyes. You gasp, running out of options to calm the angered man.

“You gave me a second chance too, I was once a novice like her” Miguel huffs, looking at you with much impatience.

“Yes, and you learned from that, never committing an error again.” Gwen is picked and caged inside the machine, she starts panicking and you too. In an act of desperation, you grab Miguel from his forearm, making him turn to look down at you. His crimson-red eyes stare at you with such hostility that you know you have to be careful to choose the right words.

“This is not right. You are not thinking clearly. Miles and Gwen deserve better” Your gaze moves between him and Gwen, hoping Miguel would agree and let the girl stay.

“Miguel, please…”

“THIS IS ABSURD, Y/N!… CANON HAS GIFTED YOU WITH MUCH LUCK, YOU CAN’T EXPECT EVERY PERSON HERE TO RUN WITH THE SAME FATE. BE REALISTIC, RESPONSIBLE, AND INTELLIGENT FOR ONCE!” As he attacks, Gwen is gone. Another round of silence invades the place, but this is worse. Your eyes open in shock after hearing Miguel.

He can’t be fixed. He won’t change. It’s time to go and follow what you think it’s correct.

You eye Jess and Peter, they seem like they have some things to say but remain quiet.

Miguel finally looks delicately at you and notices your eyes are watering. The awkwardness is very loud, your blush letting everyone know you are embarrassed.

You won’t say anything about it. You just look back at Miguel for a second, before opening a portal in your gizmo, doing the same as Hobie Brown did; quitting.

“I really thought you would get it…” Your gizmo fell to the ground as you disappeared, the screen of it cracking and leaving Miguel a little stunned by your decision. He sighed, knowing he had screwed it, but confident that his intentions were correct.

That night, after a quick patrol, when you returned home, you took a quick shower to wash away all the pain and bitter taste of the day you had. But when you came back, there was a little present wrapped in newspaper that wasn’t from your earth. You unwrapped it, revealing a homemade gizmo. You grabbed the little note attached.

We need you

-Hobbie

You would do things right. And you didn't care if you had to fight with old friends or colleagues. Especially Miguel.

…

The seasons had changed so fast. By the time summer ended, the leaves were already drying and many people had left, by winter and the snow falling over, others came back. But you stayed the same.

You had the same suit, with upgrades and chrome instead of golden details, but it was the same. Your earth was well controlled, with no sign of the villains that used to terrorize your city. All the smiles you offered were the same. All the laughing with Peter B. Parker, Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, and Miles was the same. Yet, something had changed between you and Miguel O’Hara.

The man knew the perspective people had of him would change after the events of last summer when he put the lives of Miles and many others at risk. He let his fears win and while he tried to protect everything, he was only pushing it towards the edge, dooming the fate of the multiverse. You were on his side at the beginning, claiming that canon was sacred and couldn’t be changed. But the image of Miles, his face full of fear and anxiety, unsure and terrified of his future. He was a kid, he had no idea of anything. He made you question if canon events could change. Either way, the kid was more than enough to draw you worried. Destiny could be wrong, so you decided to help Miles. Your decisions had consequences? Yes. The moment you left the building of the Spider Society, you started to miss everything. In your mind, you were almost assured Miguel didn’t care about you, but deep down, your heart said the opposite. Ending with a drift that seemed invisible at the beginning. But now, a year later, it was more than clear.

The change was something you could get used to. Your work remained the same, with Jess and Peter. B Parker. Your missions only turned more fun with the addition of Miles and Gwen permanently returning like you. Gatherings at Peter’s each Saturday remained the same. But all the awkwardness of the spiderverse invaded you when Miguel O’Hara came into the picture.

After all, you two had gone on a date the day before you met Gwen at her earth while capturing the Renaissance vulture. He asked you out, and you said yes. It was a lovely afternoon and he even visited your home. What started as a mentorship from him, blossomed into a friendship and then as a “almost something”. Which hurt worse.

It all started with you walking away. Briefings were cautiously heard by you, even staying after for further questions. Jess asked you to hand the mission details to everyone when Hobbie and Miles came to talk about a concert you were going to with Gwen and Margo when Miguel came and started asking about a new gizmo coming soon. Everyone noticed you grew quiet and soon after you were gone.

Then, you stopped asking to go on missions with him, Ben, and his usual party. When you were recruited, Miguel was annoyed but pleased to have you along. It happened that one day, you blew things off accidentally, making him extremely angry. Your web shooter failed and you almost missed it to save a baby. Nonetheless, you quickly were ranked higher thanks to your abilities.

All of your friends could see how your small friendship with your boss had suddenly evaporated. And Miguel couldn’t blame you. After all, he was the one yelling in your face when you argued in favor of Gwen when she was sent home. Miguel could remember he almost made you cry, leaving you completely embarrassed in front of everyone. He felt terrible seconds after you left, but he soon went to the earth of Miles with Ben and Jess. Eventually, when the man learned you were silently helping the kid and the ones who had left his side, he didn’t say anything. In the final moments, Miguel knew he had to side with the teenager and help to get rid of The Spot. And when the chaos was over, he wished he had the right to celebrate it with you.

The aftermath changed him, over the months, he even thanked you for trying to make him see the reality from the beginning, and he apologized. But that night, he understood that you had forgiven him, but remained hurt.

Either way, Miguel had to deal with the consequences of his acts and sort the way things would work for the sake of everyone’s canon. Yet, in the middle of the night, he constantly remembered you.

Out of nowhere, Miguel O’Hara was accepting that he missed you. And acknowledging that fact, only made him accept he had some feelings towards you. Which scared him for sure. But after losing his daughter, almost losing all he had built for spiders like him, after feeling so isolated, Miguel lounged to have a partner. He craved the love of someone. And had found it. He just wished he had done things differently.

Jessica knew Miguel so much that she easily solved the mystery. On a random Monday, she bombarded him with questions that soon made Miguel spit out he was attracted to you. She suggested the man slowly try to talk to you. Nothing was lost, there was hope. The woman had her theories about you never getting over that crush on Miguel. She often had caught you staring at him, staring too much for later to avoid him. Jess knew you were protecting your own heart.

“Miguel?” She asks.

So there he was, Miguel was sitting in the cafeteria, taking a big bite of his empanada de picadillo. He could taste the shredded beef, potato, carrot, jalapeños, and mushrooms freshly mixed with spices.

“Yes?…” The insides of the empanada are burning his tongue and he doesn’t mind.

“I asked if you assigned today’s missions?” He nods. With a quick glance at his surroundings, he huffs at the sight of the hamburger with the face of his mask still being served. The cafeteria is full and he hates all of the voices speaking at the same time. He has to wear sunglasses because the place is full of light, and it hurts his eyes. Why is everyone still eating a hamburger with his mask on the bun?

“Are we lunching here because perhaps you want to see when a certain female spider appears?” Miguel rolls his eyes. Some days, he loves Jess and knows about his feelings for you because she grants him free therapy. But other days, he hated it because Jess knew how to mess with him. Like now…

“Oh…Hi y/n!” Miguel looks at Jess panicked, but soon feels relived that his sunglasses are dark enough to cover his blown wide eyes. You appeared there. Upside down, of course, Miguel notices how your hair hangs freely, and he isn’t sure if it’s longer, or it’s just the gravity.

“Hey, Jess. I just came to drop this file with Miguel. Lyla said he wasn’t in his office” You say calm. He notices you have your mask on, but you’re definitely not looking at him. He takes the folder from your hand and stays there looking at you. You seem awkward but remain relaxed.

“That’s from my morning patrol, you asked for a report. I’m leaving with Hobbie and Pav now…” you add. And you can see how Jess keeps glancing back and forth between you and Miguel. Was she hiding something from you?.

“Okay… guess I’m leaving now…” you only sigh when no one answers.

“Get back safe, please,” Jess says as you are already far away from them.

“Thanks” you answer without looking back. Soon you open a portal at the entrance of the cafeteria and you’re gone. That’s when Jess comes back to her friend, side-eyeing him.

“Really? You couldn’t even say ‘thank you” or “good luck”?” Miguel sighs, dropping his empanada and relaxing his shoulders. He knew he had to say things to you to get back to normal.

“I know… I just… I don’t know how to start this” Jess smiled. In the end, even when Miguel was a 6’9 tall man with the title of founder of the Spider Society and creator of the Gizmo, he was a silent and certified emotion avoider.

“She forgave you for last summer and all. But this is now, she’s also awkward about you. She’s also unsure if you want to talk to her…” Miguel leaned closer, interested and equally anxious.

“She said that?” Jess shrugged while taking a bite of her French fries.

“It came out very vaguely. But for sure she’s also a mess for you”

“What? Did she also say that?” Jess giggles at him, only sipping from her soda.

“Maybe you could start sending flowers or letters, Romeo” Miguel huffs, wondering if his friend actually knew something or not.

Jess wanted to lock you two in a room and hopefully, when she opened the door, Spiderman 2099 would have a prospective lover.

…

With another college semester ended and a driving anxiety, summer was a relaxing time for you to spend in your room. Painting your toenails, you were singing at your CD player playing one of your favorite songs. Your family was gone, so you could be letting your feet dry walking upside down in your ceiling. Suddenly, your gizmo beeped and it was a deleted message from Miguel. You frowned and almost screamed. Probably he sent something to you by accident and then he deleted it. But you had an omen. So you called Jess, she answered with a long and mean “what?”, she must’ve been watching some movie with her husband.

“Miguel sent me a message and proceeded to delete it before I could read it?” You didn't mean to sound so fast and desperate, but you did.

“Slow down, girl. But… he deleted it?” Actually, she had been sleeping, her toddler being a little bolt that demanded a lot of her time even with her husband there.

“Exactly… Odd, Right?”

“Coming from Miguel? Sure it is. But… I think it’s time you try to talk to him too, y/n. Maybe he’s awkward about what happened last summer and doesn’t know how to approach you” Jess wants to scream that Miguel likes you too, but she can’t ruin it.

“ I feel like Miguel doesn’t even care I distanced myself from him. But when I see him, my heart starts beating so fast, and my hands sweat.” She laughs and lets out a long “eww”.

“You hide it very well. But you’re very cold, it doesn’t help. I have to admit you also might need to try….”

“Jess, I’d end up bursting out that I’m in lo-“You immediately stop, Jess lets out a surprised groan.

“MISS Y/N, YOU LOVE HIM?”

“Goodnight, Jessica” You go straight to bed, ignoring the deleted message and everything regarding Miguel.

But Jess and her questions keep popping up in your head.

Could it be possible that you were actually in love with Miguel?

…

“So my teacher said my essay was lacking everything, it was marked with red all over,” Miles says walking beside you, both of you are done for the day with the missions. You were almost infected by some poisonous lizard that was haunting earth-2407.

“Did you actually make the corrections?”

“I did-“ you side-eye him.

“Well, not all of them but-“ you two are just walking around with no destination secured. So when you two pass by the training center, Miles literally pushes you towards the stairs that lead to the balcony of said center. He gestures to you to keep hushed before turning to see the couple speaking; Miguel and Jess.

“We shouldn’t be hearing them” you remind him, not wanting to get caught, especially by Miguel.

“Jess banned me from the 10th floor because I was disturbing everyone. Gwen was with me and she received no punishment, bro” the teenager whispered. At sixteen, Miles had grown impossibly taller, almost like Peter B. Parker and Noir. Even Gwen was taller, everyone was taller. But at least you weren’t the same height as Penny or Peter Porker.

“Maybe because Jess is training her yet?”

“So? That’s nepotism” You want to laugh but he shushes you again. So you turn to see Miguel and Jess training.

The man was extremely sweating and Jess too. You never reached the same level of training simulations as them, thinking it was unnecessarily violent and fast-paced.

“Keep Gwen and Miles out of my lair. I’m tired of catching them trying to make new suits from themselves”

“They don’t even know how to work the machine, relax” the woman bites back.

“So? It’s annoying”

“It’s also annoying that I have Lego Spiderman and y/n printing random pictures at my office” The mention of your name makes you blush, remembering the print of Peter B. Parker with a big red font saying “Have you seen this man in your dreams?” It was very funny among the coworkers and every time Peter saw it, he would start complaining from all the bullying he had to endure.

“Don’t get y/n on this. I can’t even stand her now” You swear you can feel your heart shattering. Miles turns to look at you, encountering your sad expression.

“Y/n…” the boy tries to soothe you, but you just shake your head.

“I think I’m going home, Miles” you whisper to him, leaving soon after.

Your eyes water as you walk away from the training center, many fellows stare confused at your sadness. But you ignore them as you open a portal towards home.

And when you are in the safety of your earth, you are not ready to go to your pillow to cry. So you start swinging between skyscrapers and buildings just to clear off your mind.

You knew it was a mistake from the beginning to start developing feelings for Miguel O’Hara. Then he invited you to that damn date. Such a fun day till he had to yell in your face that you were privileged and shouldn’t be stupid ignorant. Now he seemed to have left the issue behind, after his apology. And you forgave him, even letting your feelings for him float around. But if he didn’t want you back at the society? Why did he call? Why did he offer the gizmo again?

He was an asshole.

Meanwhile, Miles stayed a little longer, hearing more of the conversation.

“Just tell y/n to stop using my printer” Jess pleaded.

“Nah, I won’t tell her,” Miguel says smirking. The woman training with him rolls her eyes annoyed.

“Just because she’s your impossible crush doesn’t mean she can have the privilege to print stupid things at my place” Miles gasped, thinking what Jess said was a joke.

“You can use my printer, so I don’t have to say anything to my girl,” Miguel said and Miles was officially shocked. He had to tell you everything the next day.

…

Two days later, the overheard talk is somehow forgotten. Miles tries to mention it occasionally but you brush him off. You have your head centered on Mayday, the two-year-old toddler walking beside you across the hallways of the Spider Society. Peter completely trusted you to leave his child with your babysitting.

“Where did you leave your ribbon, Mayday?” The little girl giggles. She has a dress of flowers and sneakers, making her look very adorable with her long disheveled hair.

“Don’t know” she babbles. Peter would be mad since it was the third pair being lost in the week.

Mayday clumsily waddles, giggling as you keep searching around for that ribbon. Even though the floors are mysteriously always clean and shiny, you can’t see the damn ribbon.

When you walk slightly away from the little girl to look down on a bench, you hear a little yelp from her and when you turn back, you see Mayday on the floor and then she starts crying.

“Oh fuck me…” you whisper, running to grab the kid and start calming her. You carry her in your arms as you sit on the bench.

“It’s okay, Mayday. It was only a little slip, but you are okay” She starts hearing your voice and her cries turn to sniffles, feeling protected when you hug her and gently brush her hair.

“Daddy won’t like looking at you crying. He wants to see you laughing and happy. You are fine, see?” The kid nods brushing away the tears.

“Now give me a smile. You were very brave!” mayday smiles brightly and you chuckle.

“That’s the Mayday I know!” The kid laughs at your way of entertaining her. When you turn towards the hallway to see if Peter is back, you almost drop Mayday again.

Miguel was there, looking at the interaction.

“I found the ribbon,” he says walking towards you and the girl. His expression is very neutral, and you can’t see the way Miguel’s hand is shaking slightly.

“Miguel!” Mayday greets the tall man with a smile, asking him to be in his arms. They both had grown closer. After all, Miguel had been around Mayday since she was born. You appeared when Mayday was 10 months old.

“Hey, kid” you let him take the girl, then you accept the ribbon from his free hand. You barely touch him but your lungs are dry and your stomach is a mess like a powerful tsunami. Nonetheless, your face shows the contrary.

“Thanks. Peter was growing annoyed by how many ribbons this little girl had missed.”

“I know. And you handled very well the situation back there…” he admits, recalling the little slip of Mayday. Miguel sees a little blush in your face, it lights up his hopes.

“Thanks…” you awkwardly say, standing up to try to reach the little girl.

Miguel leans slightly to let you tie the ribbon on Mayday’s hair and he’s able to smell your perfume of figs and brown sugar. He also sees the little golden seashell pendant hanging on your necklace. He smiles when he realizes you are avoiding his gaze. And when you’re done, both stare at each other, with many questions, but silence reigns. Both of your hearts racing with a tormented passion.

“Y/n… I feel like we need to talk about-“

Miguel grows quiet when Peter appears running in the middle of the hallway.

You don’t even catch what he said, you turn relieved to see Peter was back.

“Oh boy, we are late for her passport appointment. M.J.’s gonna kill me” You giggle at his drama. Miguel is still there behind you, he rolls his eyes making Mayday laugh.

“She will understand. And thanks for the ribbon, Miguel” The little girl is back in his father’s arms and you quickly start following them, too nervous to stay with Miguel alone.

The man just stays there seeing how you leave, and he sighs, taking a long breath. His intentions are not enough. His little efforts are nothing to reach you, it makes the craving he feels to be corresponded by you even bigger.

As for you, you feel a great heartache. Half of you feel very nervous, because it seems like some days Miguel wants to talk to you, and other days he wants to say he’s tired of you. What a confusing and fucked up situation.

…

He gives two steps forward, like five steps back. Miguel is standing at the entrance of the terrace in the building of the Spider Society, debating whether to go and talk to you or not. He even prepared a few things to say, hoping to not scare you away, more than you already were. While he knew he couldn’t just scream out he was in love with you, he could try to mend the breach built between you two.

It’s getting late in Earth-928, and a lot of spiders are leaving their home. It’s Saturday and a lot of them have plans with their families, partners, and friends. Miguel is set to have another lonely weekend doing some patrol. But for now, he’s still there, watching you seated on the rooftop of the building, eating some chicken and avocado tacos from the cafeteria. Miguel wants to laugh when he catches a glimpse of some avocado dropping from your taco. You set the plate aside and look down, letting out a little “yikes”, Heaven knows what or who would end up getting a piece of avocado from the sky.

He’s not ready. Miguel curses himself for being a big overthinker. He’s able to fight the most callous and evil villains from different dimensions. But he’s unable to say “Sorry, I was an asshole. Can we try it again?… Oh, and I love you”. Perhaps it was his anxiety or panic, but Miguel swears his gizmo beeped, so he walks away, going down the stairs, feeling his heartbeats returned to normality.

Each step he takes is filled with greetings, comments, warnings, notices, and more from different spiders. He sends spider plushie and Penny to work in a minor anomaly and finally, he closes the door of his office.

There’s a mess of papers around. Miguel suddenly remembers someone… Gabriella. He’s happy that his trauma is slowly fading away. He was officially healing and had accepted his daughter had also forgiven him. Miguel could rest knowing his errors were sealed.

And just as he was about to play some of the recorded memories he had, Lyla appeared.

“The whole gang is coming” she blurted out with her usual cocky smile.

“Tell them I’m busy, Lyla”

“But they’re already here” The AI had a new pair of fucsia heart sunglasses and coat. Which seemed to have made her more stubborn. Miguel sighed, turning off his monitors.

“MIGUEL!” the man heard the annoying voice of Peter B. Parker and sighed. When he turned around, he saw the whole club; Peter without Mayday, Hobie, Pav, Margo, Miles and Gwen.

“What is it now?” he looks down at them from his platform and is already irritated by their presence. Even after a year of changes, they were a group of teenagers and Peter.

“Well… uh-“ Gwen starts, but soon pushes Peter forward, encouraging him to speak up instead of her.

“Uh… Miguel, we know you hate us for wandering about your private life and we respect it. But we feel like you need to talk to y/n about her position here.” As Peter talks, he has Miguel’s whole attention.

“And why is that?” He sounds reluctant, but he grows anxious.

“She said she doesn’t feel the same as it was when she was recruited. That you confuse her with your behavior towards her” Margo answers for Peter, with a better choice of words, of course.

“As the leader of this team, we just want you to remind her that she’s welcome and that you want her here. Because you want her here, right?” Peter adds, Miguel crosses his arms.

He needs you, actually.

“I’m not sure I’m the most adequate person to tell her that,” Miguel replies.

“Oh, you have to be kidding. She heard you and Jess. At the training center…” Gwen speaks again, Miguel is shocked, even terrified of you hearing you were his girl.

“How much?” Miguel asks with that well-known tone of anger and fully intentional intimidation.

“Well…” Peter said.

“HOW MUCH?, POR DIOS!” Miguel yelled exasperated.

“She left when you said you couldn’t stand her,” Miles confirmed to him, making him sigh. Trying to get you back was only getting trickier than expected.

“Yeah… I don’t think chicks want to be neglected twice” Hobie speaks for the first time, mocking Miguel.

“Hobbie, not helping here” Margo scolds him whispering.

“At least I’m trying to pull one out” Miguel fires back making everyone bite their tongue to avoid laughing. Because Hobbie Brown didn’t have the best history search with girls.

“Hey no, stop. The point here is that you need to talk to her. I accidentally heard everything” Miles speaks up, walking forward toward Miguel.

The man only pinches the bridge of his nose, cringed that the teenager had to listen.

“I’m pretty sure she feels something too” Miguel hated that Miles had to be a wise kid, frequently reminding him of his errors and making him realize there were always other options.

“She must hate me.”

“No, y/n just needs to know how you actually feel” Gwen encouraged him, and unconsciously, Miguel was being pulled towards the exit.

“I couldn’t speak to M.J. for a very long time after we divorced. And I had nothing to lose, I just knocked on her door with some flowers. Look at us now… y/n will know too” Miguel thought Peter could be the goofiest man he ever met, but he was his friend. So maybe he could accept his advice.

“Va pues, don’t know why I’m listening to all of you” huffing, Miguel and the group were out, except for Hobbie, who stayed behind stealing things from Migue’s lair.

…

When you open your door, you gasp shocked. Miguel is there, he’s wearing a sweater that fits him a little too tight but nice, dress pants, and tied shoes. You rarely saw him without his suit. But that isn’t all, he has a pretty bouquet of lilies in his hand.

“I’m sorry.” He says and you are already making a pout.

“Miguel…”

“Let me finish, please.” He interrupts you, so you nod, stepping out of your place.

“I’ve made some mistakes, but as the son of a mother and… and-“ you start giggling and Miguel is red like a tomato.

“Let me guess… Peter gave you a speech to say to me?” Miguel tilts his head.

“Yes and… I-… mierda. See, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to leave the Spider Society. I need you. And I still feel guilty for last summer. But if you give me another chance… I swear that I will give you more than I take away” You nod, smiling. Miguel sighs relieved. To his surprise, you grabbed him by the sweater and pushed him towards you to give him a big kiss on the lips. He reciprocates immediately, smiling in between.

“I’m in love with you” he admits, his forehead kissing yours.

“I’m in love with you too, Miguel” As both of you kiss again, chants and applauses start. When you step away from Miguel, you see your friends there, passing past you and Miguel to step inside your home.

You are extremely confused.

“We were here the whole time, FYI,” Margo says as Miles, Gwen, Pav, and Noir pat your back and step inside.

“I’m so happy for you both. I can’t wait to have a double date. You two, M.J. and I” Miguel rolls his eyes at Peter.

“What did I miss?” You ask Miguel. Not that you mind that your friends literally invaded your home, but it was just weird.

“They wanted to help me”

“Aww, we have such good friends,” you say smiling.

“They’re not my friends. I just tolerate them” he is lying of course. You grab his hand, your cocky smile making him feel so happy. He’s still processing what just happened, he can’t believe he officially got you back.

“Oh shut up, of course, they are our friends”

“What about you and I?, Are we more than friends?” You blush at his questions. He grabs you by the waist to prevent you from going inside the house.

“Not so fast, bonita”

“I don’t know. But I’m eager to be your lover”

Now it was Miguel’s turn to get blushed.

_______________________________

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv x reader

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chuellas · 1 month ago

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Auld Lang Syne | You never thought you’d make it to the New Year after the events of this previous one, but here you are spending it with both new and old acquaintances.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, mentions/consumption of alcohol, terms “Doll” & “Baby” used, Dazai makes a questionable decision, WC: 1.8k

A/N | I am so incredibly late to this but I’m a sucker for a good New Year’s kiss fic >.<

It’s strange to be celebrating after all that’s happened in the last year. There is certainly plenty to celebrate, but there’s also plenty to mourn over too. The feelings are conflicting, however, the more you drink the more you’re leaning towards the former. Maybe you’ve done enough grieving.

The other odd thing is the presence of the Port Mafia, in fact, the event you’re attending with your colleagues is being hosted by the very organization your president had previously declared an enemy. Sure, both the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia had worked together in order to stop the catastrophe that was Fyodor Dostoevsky, but that was only circumstantial — “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” You had thought it was one of those situations, but maybe Mori and Fukuzawa saw a benefit of everyone working together.

It’s not often that you agree with Dazai, but the two of you are on the same page as you lurk in a corner, unhappy with the situation. You both should have taken a page out of Yosano’s book and faked being ill. Although you think if anyone deserves to play hooky this evening it’s her. The one truly jarring thing about this evening is just how many wary looks the two of you were getting. Most are being directed towards the former “Demon Prodigy” but considering your past with the Port Mafia, quite a few were directed towards you as well.

“How far into the fall do you think someone would get before passing out from shock?” You side eye Dazai at his words, only to find he has turned around and is now leaning over the ledge of the highrise you're on gazing down at the street far below almost longingly with his champagne glass still in hand.

Normally you wouldn’t entertain his intrusive thoughts but you’ll take the morbid question as a distraction from the pair of bicolored eyes that have been glued to you all night, making your skin itch with anxiety. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? You turn your head to peer over the ledge yourself and let out a breathy snort.

“Would a fall like that even scare someone like you? Most people that fall from this height pass out from shock because of how scared they are.” You take a sip of your champagne, the back of your head burning from the hole being seared into it.

Dazai turns back to you with an exacerbated expression on his face. As if he isn’t the one that brought up the subject. This is what you get for humoring him instead of just continuing to side eye him like you usually do.

“I wasn’t talking about just myself!” The brunette looks like he’s about to protest more but he goes silent when something behind you catches his attention and suddenly his face shifts into a dangerously amused smile.

You shiver and it’s not from the cold. “What? Quit smiling like that, you’re freaking me out.”

“You have an admirer.” He practically sings the words and you’re once again acutely aware of the gaze that’s been almost glued to you all night.

“I’m quite aware that he’s been staring but thanks for reminding me, Osamu.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm as you scowl and take a generous sip of your champagne, finishing it off, while Dazai’s grin only widens.

Chuuya has been watching you all night. He tried approaching you earlier, thinking he could just smooth talk his way back into your good graces, but you pointedly avoided him until he got the message. You didn’t want to talk to him until you were inebriated enough to not care. So far you’re at 3 glasses of champagne and the thought of the ginger still irritates you. The thought of him plotting with Dazai and packing up to go to Europe and try to play hero still pisses you off.

Dazai got a mouthful from you when he got back. He was apologizing to you for weeks before you finally let up and forgave him. But Chuuya has apparently been too busy with Port Mafia matters to put in more than half of the work Dazai did.

The Port Mafia executive has a long way to go until you’ll willingly give him your attention.

The problem is, you don’t want to be mad at him. You want to ring in the New Year with him. You want him to be your last kiss of this year and the first kiss of next year. You want to be securely in his arms, the place you feel the safest in this world, when the year starts. You want to start it off right.

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, too stubborn and upset to approach him but internally yearning for his touch and attention.

You should have just stayed home.

Dazai’s cinnamon eyes flit between you and what you can only assume is his former partner behind you. You watch as something washes across his face in a short wave, something so small that you would have missed it entirely if you didn’t know Dazai as well as you do. Guilt. He still feels guilty for several things but you think this time specifically is for taking Chuuya away from you and not cluing you in on any of their plans. Dazai would never in a million years admit that, though.

So instead he says, “Y’know…I’ll never understand how the slug ever managed to captivate a girl as beautiful as you, but I do understand just how much you mean to him. Maybe you should cut him some slack, for both of your sakes.”

His words elicit another side eye from you, this one far more suspicious than the others. He puts arms up in mock surrender, a goofy grin spreading across his face when he looks behind you again with a nod. He’s up to something but before you can figure out what it is, Dazai is hoisting you up and unceremoniously tossing over the railing.

You’re falling, plummeting to the ground and suddenly his question from earlier made sense. You shouldn’t have entertained him, you should have scolded him and walked away. This was another one of their plans. Somehow you weren’t scared, you knew he would come catch you. He always did.

Your body, however, didn’t have as much confidence in Chuuya as your mind did. You feel an unsettling queasiness wash over you, waves of panic thrashing inside your stomach. Vertigo is surely fast behind with the way everything is moving around you in a blur that’s disorienting. But before it can barrel over you, a familiar sensation spreads across your skin, it’s warm and familiar. Almost like home.

Gentle, yet firm hands grip onto you and slowly halt your fall to a stop and suspend you in the air.

“I’ll kill that damn Dazai for pushing you over like that. Are you ok? Didn’t hurt yourself while falling did you?” His voice drips with concern and you can practically see the crease in between his brows.

Somewhere in your free fall you had screwed your eyes shut. You hadn’t even realized you’d done it or why. Maybe to try and settle the heavy nausea you were experiencing or maybe because there was that small part of you that was whispering in your ear that Chuuya wouldn’t make it to you in time.

You take in a stuttered breath, grip instinctively tightening on his arms as he shifts gravity again so the two of you are standing comfortably on the side of the high rise you were just pushed off of.

You open your eyes to find one brown and one blue eye watching you cautiously. “...You didn't put him up to this?”

Your tone is accusatory and Chuuya flinches at the implication. A flash of hurt displays on his features before he looks away with a frown.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go along with a plan that insane. I know you’re pissed at me but c’mon, Doll, d’you really think I’d risk your safety like that?”

The answer is ‘no, of course not’ but the words get caught in your throat for some odd reason. You try to form the words but your vision blurs and throat spasms. When you finally get your lips to part a hiccup spills from them and you find yourself crying. Your fingers sink further into his arms, biting into the cloth.

Gloved fingers are instantly caressing your face, wiping away at the tears spilling from your eyes. You lean into his touch, finally giving into him. You come to the realization that Dazai was right, of course he was right, you hate that he usually is. You’re never going to hear the end of it from him. You know he’s watching you admit to yourself that you miss Chuuya more than you’re upset with him.

You melt into the Port Mafia Executive and let his ever present warmth sooth your distress, within moments you’re calmed down enough to form an actual response.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You look up at the ginger and smile weekly at him. “Make sure to thank Dazai before you kill him, he pushed me, quite literally, to forgive you.”

Chuuya rests his forehead on yours and lets out a relieved but tired sigh. “I missed you-”

He’s cut off by the whole city erupting in cheers and fireworks going off, a signal that the new year has started. Chuuya searches your eyes for a quick moment, looking for any possible opposition to what he was about to do. He doesn’t find any.

The executive is quick to lean in and tenderly place his lips atop yours in the sweetest kiss you think you’ve ever experienced. It’s gentle but filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. Before you can figure it out, Chuuya is pulling back with a smile.

“Happy New Year, Baby.”

Your smile is wide when you reciprocate the sentiment. “Happy New Year, Yacchan.”

The ginger opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off once again, this time by a mess of tousled brown hair peering over the ledge again and a sing-song tone. “You guys owe me! I think I should receive a New Year's kiss too!”

You watch in amusement as Chuuya’s brow twitches and his jaw clenches. “How ‘bout you kiss my damn fist you jackass!”

Dazai sticks his tongue out at him, taunting him like always — knowing exactly which buttons to push and you can’t help the light laughter that escapes your throat. You missed this. You missed them, despite how much they make you worry. The familiarity of it all spreads a warmth through your chest and you can’t help the feeling that this will, in fact, be a good year. Maybe the best you’ve had in a while.

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd #bungou stray dogs #writings ʚїɞ

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mochie85 · 1 year ago

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I'll Follow You

One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You came back to the compound, a year later after you left to make your own career, and you are worried about meeting Loki with how things ended when you left. Pairing: Romantic!Loki x OC Female Reader (Foxglove is her Superhero alias.) Word Count: Over 5.3k Warnings: Explicit. Fluff. Angst. Smut. Oral (female receiving). Shadowplay. Hallucinations.

Loki flipped through the magazine at a hurried pace, not looking at the photos or any of the articles. His hands needed something tactile to do. Or else, he feared, he might choke someone with them.

He paused when he saw an advertisement for a watch you were modeling for. There you were—a close-up of your beautiful face. Your eyes were bright and round. Your lips were dewy and sensual. Norns, he missed those lips. Especially when they were wrapped around his…

Ugh. Why can’t I stop thinking of her?! Loki snarled under his breath as he threw the magazine halfway across the room. It landed on the floor right by Sam’s feet. “You dropped this!” Sam said picking it up from the floor. He held it up in the air, not even looking, his attention fully absorbed on the TV screen.

Everyone had gathered to watch the talk show you were appearing on tonight. They couldn’t wait to see you come out and gossip about your life or inconsequential things. The entire team supported you in your decision to leave and start your acting career—everyone, except him.

Loki wanted to leave the room. He should’ve left and not agreed to come and watch the show with the others. He was about to stand up when-

“Shh. Shh. Guys quiet down. Here she is!” Wanda said shushing the entire room. Loki watched the enormous television, enraptured. The camera panned over to the audience, their loud applause and cheers were deafening. Signs and pictures were held up from a time when you were an Avenger. He couldn’t help but sink further into his chair and get caught up with your grace once again.

“So, Foxglove- can I still call you Foxglove?” The host asked as you sat down.

“Of course, you can,” you beamed at the man behind the desk.

“I- I don’t know the protocol for these things. Do you get to keep the name even though you’re not an Avenger anymore?”

Your practiced laugh showed through your gritted teeth. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. Foxglove is the name I gave myself. I had it with me when I started with the Avengers and took it with me when I left. It wasn’t a title or anything.”

“And did they just let you leave? I would think it was like being in the mafia. ‘You know too many of our secrets. We can’t let you out alive!’ sorta thing,” the host said, thinking he was being clever.

“My friends and colleagues have all been supportive. And I remain in close contact with most of them.”

‘Most of them.’ That statement swirled the emotions Loki was feeling inside. He was not one of those who supported you and was very vocal about it. The fact that you still keep in contact with almost everyone here left him envious.

“And that’s actually part of the reason why I’m here tonight,” you continued. “My dear friend Tony, whom many of you know as Ironman- again, not a title…” you chuckled. “…Is throwing his annual charity gala this spring. This year he decided to make it a month-long occasion with different charities and events happening once a week culminating in the yearly gala at the end of the month.��

“That’s wonderful! That’s all he does when he’s not out saving the world, is party, huh?” the host said looking straight into the camera.

“Asshole!” Tony sassed under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the team.

“And what exactly is your part in this month-long event?” The host asked you.

“Well, I plan to raise money for The Nature Conservancy here in New York. I ask everyone to come and help us plant new trees or donate. Every dollar will be matched, and we can help restore some of the forests, in other parts of the country.”

“The Nature Conservancy is a special organization for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s where I first worked. It’s where I first started noticing my powers.”

“Your powers are amazing! You can talk to plants!”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” you said with restraint. “Chlorokinesis allows me to excel a plant’s growth to a thousand times what they normally can. I can also enhance their natural defenses and abilities. And like my namesake, Foxglove, I can give you hallucinations when touched.”

“Can we get a demonstration?” the host asked to the cheers of his audience. You reached out to touch him “No, no, no!” he said nervously. “I don’t need any more hallucinations right now!” you both chuckled. “Thank you. But maybe you can make a flower grow?” he suggested, and the audience cheered you on.

“Sure, of course,” you smiled, happily. You rotated your wrists and flicked them around, gesturing for a plant to grow from the host’s wooden desk. The branches wrapped around itself forming a steady trunk. Soon the branches grew out further and further. Blooming wisterias in varying colors began to sprout, amazing the audience.

You used to be unstoppable. You used to tear down enemies left and right, numbing them with your visions before you cut them down and made them regret opposing you. Now you do party tricks for the camera so you can get a laugh from people who don’t care about you. Who didn’t even love you! Loki was furious.

Once again, Loki made to get up. He was almost through the exit of the room when he heard the next question that made him stop.

“So, Foxglove, will you be attending these events alone?” The audience ‘ooh’d’ at the question when the host decided to get a little more personal. “I heard you were cozying up to a certain superhero. Do you like those types? Do you have a type? What does Foxglove look for in a partner?”

You laughed embarrassedly. “These rumors! I swear they pair me up with someone new each week.”

“Oh, but you were seen leaving a nightclub with your costar, Superman himself, Henry Cavil.” The photo was put up on the screen. A picture of the two of you laughing in front of a busy club as Henry gingerly put his arm around your shoulders. The entire room of Avengers whooped and hollered cheering you on.

“We were celebrating. We had just wrapped our movie and it was my first time in London. So, Henry just wanted to show me around. Very friendly. All platonic.” You smiled, blushing. Loki noted that blush. I’ll break him like a twig!

“Ok. Ok. What about your former colleague, Loki of Asgard?” The host asked as a picture of the two of you replaced the one on the screen.

It was a photo taken when the two of you had gotten back from a mission. You had failed and cried about it on the flight back. Loki was wiping the tears from your face, trying to cheer you up. You didn’t know the PR department was there taking shots as all of you disembarked off the jet.

The camera cut back to you and you blushed harder. Once again, Loki noted that blush. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed. Does she miss me too?

“Loki and I have remained good friends. I look forward to seeing him again,” you told the host.

Lies. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of you since you left. The last words you said to him were “I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Loki couldn’t detect any falsehood when you screamed those words at him. That hurt the most.

Everyone turned to where Loki was standing. Some, like Thor, were smiling. Mostly everyone else was shocked.

“What?!” Loki snapped back at them, making everyone turn back to the television.

“Oh! Did you hear that? She wants to see him again.” The host embarrassed you. Your powers grew erratic as a new sprout of branches grew from the tree.

The whole audience was eating it up, clapping. You tried to hide behind your hand, but the different cameras provided different angles of your mortification.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Foxglove, everybody!” The host said pointing towards you clapping. You laughed and waved at the audience as Wisteria petals fell from the ceiling.

Weeks later, you sat in the back of a Maybach that Tony hired to chauffer you to the gala. This year it would be held at the compound which garnered more donations because everyone wanted to see inside the heavily guarded facility. Your intricate beaded dress fit you snuggly and covered you from shoulders to toe. It ensured that no one would accidentally come in contact with your skin. Especially with how crowded Tony’s parties got. The only wrinkle was from all the times you’ve grabbed it in anxiousness and wrung the fabric.

Why did I let Tony talk me into this?! I should’ve faked sick or something! What if Loki’s there? Of course, he’s there. Where else would he be? What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he has a date?! Maybe I should’ve invited Henry? No, no. He’d get the wrong idea. Just drop in, say your hellos, then leave. I don’t have to stay. I’m a grown adult. I can do what I want! FUCK! What if Loki comes and talks to me?

Once past the gates, the car crawled through a winding road with lanterns adorning the pathway. The car stopped at the front steps of the Avenger’s compound and you could hear the heavy bass of the music pounding through the car windows as bright lights and lasers littered the night sky.

You made your way through security to the massive, yet highly decorated, quinjet hangar and a sweeping staircase that descended to an impressive room below. You smiled, reminiscing about all the parties and events you attended as an Avenger- sweet memories that erased the worry you had when you were in the car. Picking up your gown, you gracefully descended the staircase. Keeping your eyes trained on the steps below, you tried not to look around, to look for him.

“Fox! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wanda shrieked as she ran up to you. She squeezed your sleeved arm and pressed her cheek on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, Wanda!” you said kissing the top of her hair.

“Come on. Everyone’s here- well, almost everyone,” she corrected herself. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Everyone wants to catch up.” She led you along to the bar where you were greeted by your former teammates. You were grateful that Loki wasn’t among them. He always loved these parties. You actively refused invites the past year just to avoid him. Awkward hugs and pleasantries were shared. Drinks were offered along with your first few dances promised to Sam and Wanda.

After hours of conversations with the team, and some drinks with Tony, you fell back into a sense of belonging and family. You didn’t realize how much you missed your friends here. How much you missed being an Avenger. It got so lonely most nights not having anyone to talk to. At least here, you would have had Nat or Bucky to train with in the middle of the night.

Or Loki to keep you company.

You groaned internally. You couldn’t help but be on edge all night, thinking about him and wondering if Loki was ever going to show up.

Before leaving for the night, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. There was a greenhouse in the back glades of the compound that you frequented most nights just to be alone. You used to make the hedges grow all around, giving you a private garden away from the rest of the world.

Inside, it was as if you had never left. The plants stood tall as if to greet you. Bright flowers bloomed in different colors as if in competition to win your adoration. And in the back corner, hidden behind large monstera plants, was a cove of plush blankets and chairs that you hid from anyone ever finding. Everyone except, “Loki?”

Loki sat in the rattan chair; his legs crossed reading a magazine with your picture on the cover. He looked as breathtaking as the first time you saw him, like trouble and a promise all wrapped up in his pressed monochromatic black suit. His mischievous smile appeared, tempting you closer.

“Hello, Foxglove,” he greeted you. His voice sending shivers down your spine. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? You kept repeating in your head.

“I…didn’t know this spot was taken. I won’t bother you. Goodnight,” you hastily said as you turned to leave.

“Wait!” he cried standing up. You could feel him grab hold of your wrist. You looked down to see his shadow holding on to you like a dear friend, shadow to skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. It’s been so hard to be intimate with anyone because of your body’s defense mechanism. And here was Loki, the only man who figured out a loophole to your little enigma.

“I just wanted to say…” Loki paused, staring only into your eyes. “Y-you look beautiful tonight.” You pulled your hand away from his shadow and stayed quiet. “I saw you. We… the team… saw you on the talk show. You’ve done amazing things this past year. One movie, a television show, countless endorsements.”

“Still don’t think I can make it?” you challenged.

“Fox, it was never about that!” he argued. His sudden outburst propelled him like a predator. He stalked his way closer to you, making you back into the glass wall of the greenhouse. You caught whiffs of his cologne mixed with the tropical scent of the flowers all around you. He stopped when he realized he had alarmed you. “I should not have advanced on you so quickly. I apologize.”

“It’s all right. Just habit, I guess.” You were always conscious of people touching you and getting too close. You never wanted to be the cause of their hallucinations. Loki felt relieved that he hadn’t scared you off. His shadow stood ahead of him, rubbing your arm with the back of his fingertips, trying to mollify your anxiousness.

Loki watched and waited as you settled. Jealousy festered in his body at the sight of his shadow being able to comfort you and he couldn’t. “You look… breathtaking, by the way.” He tried to soothe.

“You already said that,” you said curtly, blushing. Loki loved your blush. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you.

“Is your new lover here with you tonight? Got sick of the real superheroes, had to get yourself a pretend one?” he tried deflecting. Loki smirked looking through the glass and out to the party to see if he could spot Cavill.

“As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me once I stepped foot out of your room,” you said quoting him from the last time you spoke. “So, it’s none of your business whether or not Henry and I are together.”

“But you are…together?” he asked. His stare was unwavering, demanding an answer to his desperate question.

“I don’t need this right now!” You were angry and speechless. He doesn’t have the right to question your life’s choices especially when he wanted no part of them in the first place.

You moved to get away from his shadow’s hold and out of the greenhouse. Loki followed you close. “Fox, please. Stop.”

“Why are you even here, Loki?” you called back, briskly walking towards the exit. “You knew this was- This was my spot. MY SPOT!” you yelled, turning abruptly towards him.

“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you in private! Without the cameras or the paparazzi. Without some life-or-death mission hanging over our heads. I needed to see your face again, without all these people trying to steal your attention away from me.” He stopped and watched you reach for the door to go outside. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”

Vixen.

Feelings you thought you had buried deep down inside of you started to resurface. All because of that name he used. The one he would whisper as he called for you in his arms late at night. The name he used when he made you laugh so hard the only way to stop you was to kiss you.

The one name he knew would stop you in your tracks… because it was the one name he used when he was about to touch you himself.

“I am sorry if I ever made you feel…”

“Unworthy? Incapable? Useless?!” you turned as you accused him.

“Unwanted,” he finished.

Real tears fell down your face now. Loki cupped your cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. You could feel the heat in his touch. The energy. You’ve felt it with his shadow, but there was always something electrifying and passionate when Loki touched you himself.

It was a luxury to feel this connection with someone. To feel the warmth from his fingers. The callouses in his palms. You imagined feeling his soft lips on you once again until you stopped yourself. It was a dangerous path to have such expectations right now. You opened your teary eyes to find Loki watching you.

His eyes darted around to your surroundings before he closed them and tried to focus back on you. “You are very much wanted, Vixen. I just couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted you back then.”

He opened his eyes to yours. The swirl of emotion in them was breathtaking. It was then that you saw his true face for the first time. His emotions. His thoughts. He was stripped of his armor and his pretenses. You felt as if you two were the only thing that existed in that time and space. As if he were holding his life, right there cupped in between his hands.

Your heart pounded in your ears as he continued his confession. “I am a jealous god. You know this. I didn’t want to share you with anybody. I wanted to keep you to myself. To keep you from the world. I was afraid that you would tire of me like you did with being an Avenger. Cast me out after seeing what the world out there could offer you.”

Loki placed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. He bared it all for you tonight. He admitted something you knew was difficult for him to confess.

But could it erase what he made you feel for wanting to follow your dreams? Horrible and selfish. Untalented. Unwanted.

“I love you.” Your eyes grew wide at his expression. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you since. I am still deeply in love with you. Even now, when you’re about to run away from me, my heart won’t let me forget you. I was afraid that I would have no place in the world that you were creating for yourself. So, for that, I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and lingered in his touch a while longer.

“I wanted to apologize. I never got a chance to see you again after our fight, and I regret that I never made amends to you. You had every right to follow your path. I shouldn’t have stopped you. I should’ve supported you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks back and forth. You always did have the softest skin, unblemished by anyone else’s touch, he thought. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything at all. And if you want to leave now, I won’t stop you. Never again. But I just needed you to know how I felt.”

Do you love him? You asked yourself as you looked into his variegated eyes. Did you spend every night thinking about him? Did you ignore the compound, and your friends, this past year just to avoid seeing him again? Afraid that he would have someone new in his life? Did you miss his voice when he says your name? His kisses? His touch?

“Yes,” you answered yourself. Loki’s brows knitted in confusion. “Loki, I understand now. Thank you… what I said to you back then, I was angry, but...” you tried to start.

Loki smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We were both angry and said things we didn’t mean. Me more than you. Please don’t apologize. Least of all to me.” He exhaled as his eyes darted around again. You nodded your head, accepting his grace- forgiving you without having to apologize.

You looked up at his eyes, filled with wonder, “What do you see? When you touch me?” you asked gently. All this time you never thought to ask him.

“I see what I always see. Since the very first time I touched you. Do you remember?” You shook your head no. “They showed a picture of it on the talk show.” Realization sunk in. “I was wiping your tears just like now.”

Loki looked around again and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I see home. I see the woods that used to grow behind the castle walls. Thor and I used to sneak out when we were children and climb the trees. The same woods we used as hunting grounds when we got older. Would you like to see it?”

No one had ever asked you that before. No one had ever had the power to do that before! You nodded and faint green smoke rose from his fingers. Your vision got blurry as the greenhouse was replaced by a dense forest. The trees were tall and luscious. Strands of warm light filtered through the canopy above shining down on the emerald grass below.

“Come with me.” Loki held your hand as he walked further into the woods. Dead leaves and twigs crunched at your feet as a soft breeze blew through the lace of your dress giving you goosebumps. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can just lay on the grass. I used to spend my free time there, letting the hours idle away.” The thought made you smile.

Sure enough, a clearing began to form up ahead. Long, soft grass weaved itself as it grew amongst large wildflowers. The filtered light from the canopy above made the blooms shine like jewels on a bed of velvet.

“I have yet to see anywhere comparable to this place on Midgard,” Loki said circling the glade, a look of homesickness in his eyes. “That metropolis has nothing compared to the splendor of these woods.”

“It’s beautiful.” You said walking towards him. A path of small wildflowers blooming with every step you made.

“Thank you. It is beautiful. But still an illusion. We are still very much in the greenhouse by the compound. You’re just seeing what I’m seeing at the moment.” You reached out towards a tree and felt cold glass instead of bark.

“You see this every time you’ve touched me? Every time we’ve…”

“Hmm,” Loki nodded solemnly. “Sometimes it's these woods. Other times it's my bedchambers in the palace. Yet, every time I’m with you, I see this- my childhood home. I haven’t been back since you left.” Loki bent down and picked up a wildflower that had grown in your stride. “I try to conjure it myself, but it never feels the same. The colors aren’t as vibrant. Not as much warmth.” He placed the flower on your ear, pushing your stray hair back. His hands ventured further down, tracing the beads of your sleeves.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.

“You’ve missed me? Or you’ve missed my powers and that they can bring you home?” you asked slightly jilted.

Loki looked deeply into your eyes as he turned you into his embrace. Your hands fell onto his arms and the look he gave you stole your breath away. “You are my home,” he confessed with a passion and honesty you’ve never heard from him before.

He wasted no time. He gave you no warning as he conceded to his urges and kissed you fervidly. The soft lips you were fantasizing about earlier painted a poor picture of his actual kiss. Soft yet demanding. Giving, yet always ravenous. It was as if no time had passed between you two. You were back in his arms kissing him and it felt like he described it. Home.

“All I ever wanted was to have you here in my arms,” he breathed in between kisses. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him back to you for another kiss. His arms wrapped selfishly around you, holding you tighter to him.

The heat was too much. It’s been so long since you’ve been held so intimately. But with Loki’s lips devoted to your neck, you would burn gladly. You would die happily on this pyre- as the last thing you would hear would be Loki moaning in your ears.

You were lost in his haze, caught up in the moment with the feel of his body against yours. He pushed you against the tree and you felt the cold glass of the greenhouse against your back.

Loki towered over you, “Tell me you want this,” he whispered onto your noxious skin. “Tell me you’ve missed this and want this with me.” He looked into your eyes, imploring something deep and vulnerable inside you.

“I do, Loki. I want this with you” You moaned holding tight against his grip. You felt his hands gather your dress skirt. Slowly his hands wandered, savoring the feel of your soft skin. His hallucinations were getting more and more vivid. Believable. Or perhaps it was just his kiss, sending you into slight delirium yourself.

Loki hurriedly took off his suit jacket and flung it across the room. He knelt in front of you, in between your parted legs as he raised your left knee above his shoulders- kissing his way up to your inner thighs. “Loki is this real?” you asked looking around you.

“Gods, I hope so,” he prayed, leaving a mark on your thigh. He kissed his way up to your core and licked you through the fabric of your panties. You heard the sheer cotton tear as his fingers brushed up against your eager clit.

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling when he licked a wide stripe in between your folds. Your knees buckled at the sensation and soon you were reaching around yourself for something to hold. Something to keep you up as Loki lost himself in your wet arousal.

The cold glass of the greenhouse was replaced by the feeling of something warm and sturdy behind you. You looked up to see that Loki’s shadow had positioned himself to where his chest was flushed against your back- his dark hands roaming your body. His arms reached forward to hold your dress up above your waist, aiding Loki in his endeavors.

You felt a kiss on your neck, a quick peck as if he was asking for permission or giving you a warning. You yelped as his shadow quickly lifted you by your hips and Loki pushed both your knees up for his shadow to hold.

“Loki!”

“Yes, my love?” he asked as he continued to latch his mouth and draw on your aching cunt. Loki’s shadow spread your legs. You were splayed open and exposed. Leaving Loki to devote his tongue to you. You reached up and ran your hands through his shadow's hair, pulling as he sweetly kissed your neck.

You couldn’t help the moans and loud whimpers escaping your lips. You bucked your hips onto Loki’s face as your head reared back onto his shadow’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Fox. Let me hear you,” he commanded as he continued his consumption of you. “Let me taste you again. Give me what I’ve been missing. What I’ve been craving.” He said the last words to your tormented clit. You shuddered violently as moans and whimpers of his name fell from your lips. “That’s it. There you go, Vixen,” he cooed as he drank your arousal and lapped around your thighs.

His shadow laid you down gently and you felt the plush pillows and cold blankets from the greenhouse corner underneath you. A warring sensation against the heat of Loki’s body pressed on top of you. A bit of reality mixed in with the illusion Loki was scarcely hanging on to.

His hands fondled your every curve and every soft line. You cupped his face and led him to your kiss. His soft lips quivered when you reached in between your bodies and stroked his clothed erection. So hard and so tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when you unzipped his pants and stroked him.

“Fuck,” he moaned. Your name followed next as he bucked his hips into your hand. “Vixen…tell me you’re mine,” he panted. He kissed you hard, not letting you reply, afraid of your answer. You lined him up next to your expecting cunt and pulled him inside you.

You bit your lip and moaned as the look of pure pleasure radiated through your face. “Tell me…” he tried again as he pushed his hips into you repeatedly.

“I love you, Loki,” you moaned. His eyebrows slanted skeptically, stilling his movements and letting your words sink into his thoughts. “I’ve always been yours.” You admitted.

His kiss was magic. It was passion and life. Remorse and reconciliation all at once. He began his movements again at a steady pace, savoring your tight walls around him. You could feel the ridges on his shaft with every euphoric pull and thrust. His head bowed at the sheer power of your declaration. “Say it again…” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you moaned.

“…say it…” he bit his lips. “…ag-again…please…” His eyes were closed as he focused on the agonizingly drawn-out movements of his hips to yours.

“I love you, Loki,” you cried as he slammed against you. You squeezed around him finally pushing him off that edge. Loosening the tight hold he had on his pleasure and pouring it all into you. The wave of bliss hit you hard and you came onto his throbbing cock at the same time.

Spent and panting next to you, Loki held you close. His kisses were endless. Your cheeks and jaw would be bruised tomorrow from the affection he was showering you with. His hands were always touching you. Your neck, your face. Your thigh that was wrapped around his legs. You lost all track of time being with the god of mischief and soon the bright sunlight that trickled down to the forest floor was replaced by the harsh glare of the greenhouse overhead lamp.

Loki had little strength left to keep the illusion up any longer. He seemed weary but content. You kissed him fleetingly as you sat up back to reality. “Stay,” he said softly. “The one thing I didn’t say last time…I’m saying it now. Don’t go. Stay.” His hands held yours tightly.

So many feelings were attached to that one word. The weight of it crushing your heart. “I’m not asking you to give up your life. I’m not asking you to stay just for the night either. I’m asking for you to just be,” he smiled at you. “Be who you want to be and I will support you like I should have.”

You crawled back to him, settling your head on your propped-up elbows, while your other hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And if I decide to go?”

“Then I’ll do the one thing I should’ve done last time but didn’t.” he smiled as you looked at him expectantly. “I’ll follow you.”

A/N: This was a request sent in and I'm sorry to say it took this long for me to finish it. I hope you like it my lovely @gruftiela. I tried to stick to the vibe of the song. But I also added lyrics from one of my other favorite Depeche Mode songs. See if you can spot it 😝.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish

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padfootagain · 3 months ago

Text

Love in Verses (XXXI)

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is The Party… chapters 31 and 32 are twin chapters, the party will be told from both perspectives, this one from Andrew’s and the next one from MC’s. Just so you know…

This is one of the first scenes I’ve written when I began working on this project, so I’m quite fond of it even if it makes me cry…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3678

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, Andrew was certain of it.

He had hoped it wouldn’t, that seeing you flirt with another man would leave Frank unbothered, ignoring you completely. It was a little cruel, maybe, because it meant that you would be sad, that you would be hurt by his reaction. But as he stared at you letting a man trace a line up your arm… your bare arm…

Andrew looked away, feeling sick, feeling like his world was crushing down around him. Collapsing. It was like… like being dumped by Samantha all over again…

He downed his whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor ground him to the present once more, but the relief was temporary, and soon enough, he was looking up at you again and you were leaning to whisper something in that stranger’s ear.

He turned around this time, unable to stomach the sight of him resting a hand on your waist.

The plan was simple. You were to make Frank jealous, by wearing that divine dress you had bought with Andrew, by flirting with another man. Andrew had thought about playing that role, being the man you would flirt with, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t have survived the cruelty of that situation, of you faking to be interested in him that way. Not when he loved you so ardently. And so, he was merely keeping an eye on you now, staying close to one of the tables where whiskey was being poured generously, avoiding to talk to anyone at this gigantic party, checking that you were safe, while you let another man flirt with you and touch your waist…

He downed another glass…

“You’re alright, Andy?”

He turned to his left, following the voice that now called him. Samantha, of all people… brilliant.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered, shifting awkwardly.

“Thanks for coming today. I’m glad we can still be friends despite all of this. I know that it must be… peculiar sometimes, but… Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me for that.”

She placed a hand on his forearm, and once, not so long ago, it would have made his heart grow warm. Now, he felt nothing. It felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, the days when he loved her.

He thought of you, behind him, and he tried not to picture you kissing that stranger, because then he…

He poured himself another whiskey, downed it again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, raising up an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you drinking so much since college!”

“Well, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

He looked at her once more. Her and her dark hair, and her beautiful eyes, and the lips he thought he would spend the rest of his life kissing. How strange… now she let another man kiss them, and he wanted to kiss someone else… Their mouths didn’t belong together anymore. And Andrew then realised that he was okay with that. He wasn’t okay with how it had all happened, how it was still happening… but he couldn’t picture himself loving her again. He was looking at her, beautiful and perfect on paper… and all he could think of was you.

The music was loud, they had to raise their voices to be heard over the shallow beats. The chatter of the room Sam and Frank had rented for the special occasion was almost deafening. Andrew’s head was spinning a little, the alcohol kicking in. He still wanted another drink…

“Do you… do you hate me?”

He frowned, surprised by her question, by how direct it was too. She was a pro at circling an issue.

He thought for a moment, didn’t find an obvious answer.

When he thought of hate, he thought of that man with his hand on your body. He thought of Frank and the way he still made your heart bleed…

“Why are you asking this?” he asked back instead of answering.

“Because I… I know that the way we ended things was… messy. But I don’t want you to hate me. I… I still care about you, Andy, even if…”

“Even if you don’t love me anymore.”

It was becoming a little hard to remain standing, his world was spinning.

Were you still there with that guy? Would you… would you let him kiss you the way you had let Andrew do it in your office? God… would you be the one kissing him, the way you had kissed Andrew that night in your flat?

Samantha blinked, Andrew was puzzled as he noticed tears in her eyes.

“I think… a part of me is always going to love you, Andy.”

His eyes grew round in surprise. Was it working? Was their stupid, idiotic, foolish plan working? This was ridiculous…

… would you go back to loving Frank? Frank was a fucking dickhead…

“Do you ever wonder what could have been our lives if we had remained together?”

I wouldn’t have loved Y/N the way I do now…

And yet a couple of seconds later, he was changing his thought.

I would have fallen for her still… despite loving you…

“I used to,” he answered truthfully, stopping his answer before it would hurt her, but she insisted.

“And now?”

He was too drunk to lie. And if he were to be fully honest, he didn’t mind being rough, hurting her a little. He hated himself for the selfishness of it, but he answered earnestly anyway.

“Not anymore, no.”

“Really?”

“I… I don’t think of you like that anymore. I’ve moved on.”

She raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.

“Have you? So quickly?”

He shifted, uncomfortable. And he didn’t like being bitter, being too honest and being hurtful because of it, but… but you were flirting with another man, and Andrew was drinking too much tonight… And you were wearing that green dress, the one you had bought together, and he could picture you now, and he didn’t want Frank to see you in it and regret you, because he didn’t deserve it and… and you had bought that fucking dress for Frank… for Frank…

“I don’t love you anymore,” he said plainly, the flatness of his tone hurtful by itself. “Like I… I’m not in love with you. I… I want someone else.”

“Someone else?” she asked, and her voice was annoyed but he noticed the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eyes.

She was hurt. But then again, she had been the one shattering his heart and his self-esteem, and his world, and the confidence he had taken so long to build…

He went on anyway.

“Yeah… I… we’re not dating or anything. But I… I like her. A lot.”

“Have you asked her out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she’d be interested. That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

No, he didn’t mind that you didn’t feel the same. You were a little too good for him anyway. Out of his league. You ought to deserve better…

“Now, that’s just your head saying dumb things,” she said, and even if her tone wasn’t kind, her words were reassuring.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Andy… when are you going to understand that… You do deserve to be happy? That you are worthy of happiness too, huh?”

His next comment was unnecessary, but it felt good to tell the truth anyway.

“I had grown better at that while we were together. You breaking up with me to run off with someone else kind of destroyed that progress…”

He stopped resisting the urge to drink, reached for another whiskey, downed it in one gulp.

“I’m sorry, Andy. But we… weren’t right for each other.”

He wanted to argue, for the sake of it, to contradict her, but he was honest instead.

“I have to agree with that.”

He looked in your direction again, just a quick glance, just to check that you were alright. Frank was staring at you from afar too. That guy was leaning closer now, although you didn’t seem so willing to play along anymore. Andrew’s heart quickened, and soon it was pounding…

“Andy?”

“Hmm?” he asked back without looking at Samantha.

A sign… just one sign from you and he would come and make sure that guy would stand back…

Frank seemed to have read your body language as well, the bastard… he was walking over to you. Andrew closed his fists tightly, refraining from crossing the distance between you and him, from pushing that guy away, from telling Frank to fucking leave you alone because, Christ, you deserved so much better than him…

“Are you listening to me?”

Andrew almost jumped as Sam touched his arm again…

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I was… lost in thought…”

“I was saying that I’m glad you and Y/N seem to get along. As you’re working together. I was worried when I learned she was Frank’s ex that it would make things awkward at your workplace.”

“We’re fine.”

I’ve fallen in love with her when I didn’t even think I was capable of loving anyone else after you…

“She seems nice,” she added, but her voice was weirdly flat.

“She is,” Andrew nodded, his heart fluttering as he talked of you. “She’s… she’s grand. She’s really nice, and… she’s a laugh, like… and very smart too.”

“Sounds like a catch.”

He didn’t answer, she didn’t seem to notice.

She was staring at you now too, while Frank had reached you and that stranger. He was talking with the guy, seemingly ignoring you, and even from afar Andrew could see that you were disappointed. The son of a bitch. He was pushing that guy away, without acknowledging you, he was making you feel terrible about yourself, Andrew could tell, and…

“I wonder what Frank saw in her.”

Andrew pondered on her question, and… God, he had so many things he saw in you. Your kindness, your wits, your passion for your work, your sense of humour, your smile, your eyes, the curve of your eyelashes, how fucking smart you were, your warmth, your voice, your way to scrunch up your nose a little when you were thinking, your anger, your talent, your…

… you, just… you…

But Frank? Did he see all that?

How could he have seen all of that, and still leave you?

The guy you had been talking to left, his drink in hand and a polite smile on his lips. Frank turned to you, got a conversation started. And Andrew wished he was right when he thought he could read in your expression that you were forcing yourself to look happy with his attention. Andrew didn’t believe in God, but he prayed still, silently, for you to see that Frank was not good enough for you, for you to long for his company instead… Christ, he hoped he was right when he read in the way you leaned away from Frank that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t want him to touch you the way he had just held your arm…

“Anyway, who’s the lucky woman you’ve spotted then? Do I know her?”

Andrew looked at Samantha, but he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice as he answered.

“I don’t really want to talk about that with you, honestly.”

“Right…”

Frank was taking a step closer to you, his hand inching for your waist…

Andrew was never one to pick up a fight, but he wanted to punch your ex in the face so bad…

“I feel a lot of resentment today, Andy…” Samantha said, trying to dissect his brain, the way she used to when they were together, but Andrew was not in the mood. “Did something happen?”

He let out a long exhale through his nose, refused to answer.

“You said you were ready to put all that happened behind us.”

He was about to argue, but he couldn’t. She was right. What a fucking fool he had been… to think that he should still want her after she broke what they had spent years building, for some random guy she had met a few weeks before. And then she was inviting him to her wedding, and he was there running back right into her arms? She was marrying Frank after knowing him for mere months when she had claimed not to be ready for marriage with Andrew when they had spent seven years together? She had not even agreed to move in with him… It seemed to hit him then, how much of a fool he had been, and the little self-esteem he had left finally took over to show him that he deserved better than to be treated like that. Anyone would deserve better. He was being an absolute fool. And you were too, you and your broken heart and he couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t pretend that all this was alright, that he didn’t want to kiss you…

He had one last question to ask, one last thought that was holding him back, one last answer he was too afraid to receive. He finally asked it.

“Frank left Y/N two weeks before you left me,” he started, the coldness of his tone unusual for him. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”

Samantha blinked.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asked back, but Andrew didn’t back down, his hazel eyes turned into steel.

“Answer me. Did you sleep with Frank before you left me?”

She remained silent, and he knew what it meant.

He thought he would be hurt, and he was, but the main emotion that came rising in his chest, made his blood boil, blinded him for a moment, was hate. Rage and hate. A lethal combo…

He huffed, shook his head.

“I left right after, and it wasn’t planned… it happened once, and then I left, and it didn’t last… it’s not like I was having an affair.”

“Shut it!” Andrew hissed. “Just… shut up for once!”

Her eyes grew round. It was so unlike Andrew to use such a mean tone…

“Andy…”

“I can’t believe you did something like this to me…”

“You’re not perfect either, Andrew, don’t pretend…”

“Don’t pretend what?! That I was always faithful to you? That I loved you? That I wanted to spend my life with you when you dumped me for a guy you barely knew?!”

“And why do you think I did that?” she answered, with venom in her words, and Andrew hated himself for falling for it. He knew she was being mean, that he shouldn’t have believed her, but he was the one always doubting his own worth, he couldn’t help it… “I’m sorry, Andrew, but you weren’t perfect either. And the truth is, I wasn’t happy enough with you.”

The word enough echoed in his head, out of context, he applied it to himself. He could feel his brain starting to spiral… but he forced his gaze to remain on Samantha. His thoughts had turned to you, and he had to check…

“Did Frank cheat on Y/N too?”

“What does it matter to you…?”

“Just. Answer. The. Damn. Question,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling not to shout it instead.

She heaved a sigh, but answered still.

“No… no, he didn’t. The first time anything happened between us was three days before we two broke up. And Frank had already ended things with Y/N to be with me.”

Andrew heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, and Samantha frowned at his reaction.

“What does it matter to you?” she snapped.

“It matters to me that I’m glad her partner didn’t do this to her,” he replied, grabbing another drink.

“If you’re so angry at me, what are you doing here?”

Andrew bit the inside of his cheek to refrain his earnest answer.

Because Y/N needs me here.

“Honestly, I have no fucking clue…”

He downed yet another glass, walked away before Samantha could answer anything, and he headed towards the exit, fleeing the reception. He caught your eyes as he was passing not too far from you, refrained his urge to reach for you and hold you close, but his expression made you frown.

The cold air hit his cheeks, he realised he hadn’t picked up his jacket. The alcohol was getting to his head, the inky sky filled with stars was spinning above his head. He spotted an area with a few trees and a corner covered with grass. He aimed his feet in that direction, unstable, struggling to stay upright.

And you were still in there, with Frank, why fucking Frank, why him, why couldn’t you want…

“Andy?”

He turned around at the sound of your voice, almost falling in the process.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer, extending a hand to steady him if he needed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Are you drunk?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

But the image of Frank leaning closer, reaching for your waist flashed before his eyes. He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his fists repeatedly, not knowing what to do now with his own body, with his too-long limbs, with the knowledge that you too wanted Frank and not him. And Andrew hated that guy for taking everything he wanted away. For making Samantha leave him. For taking the life he thought he was going to build with her. But most importantly, for taking you away, even now… Andrew hated your ex for hurting you, for breaking your heart, and for being unable to let you go, for dragging you along with him, for keeping you dependent when he had someone else, and of course… of bloody course, Andrew had to fall for you, when you loved Frank.

What could you see in a guy like him? What did Andrew lack that made you unable to choose him instead of Frank?

He sat down in the grass, his brain swarming with thoughts that made him as dizzy as the liquor did.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

You sat down beside him.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring. Andrew wanted to cry at the sound, to hide in your arms and let it all out… his rage against Samantha, his jealousy against Frank, his love for you…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” was his answer instead of yielding to his own wants and lean closer.

“You didn’t seem well.”

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

He saw you clenching your jaw, even if there wasn’t much light around the venue. The parking lot was close by, with a few lampposts there. The moon was high and bright though, and through the windows of the venue behind the two of you, light was pouring into the night. It made for a dim lighting, but just enough for him to distinguish your features.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

That fucking asshole… Andrew was certain Frank had hurt you somehow, said something wrong…

“I saw you talking with Samantha… what did she say?” you asked, changing subject and aiming straight for the sensitive one without knowing.

It was Andrew’s turn to clench his jaw. He didn’t say anything.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged, but you insisted, and he ended up yielding.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, and there was wrath shining in them too.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, wanting to alleviate your pain and worry, but your expression didn’t change. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away.

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime for good?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice, revealing of some kind of ache.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

He froze when you leaned closed, rested your head on his shoulder. He reached out without thinking, the alcohol making him bolder than he usually was, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in a tight hug. You remained like this for a couple of minutes, or perhaps a little longer than that, Andrew wasn’t sure. He was too drunk to notice the passing of time, he felt too warm holding you in his arms…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he had for some time now. That he didn’t want Samantha anymore, only you. That he dreamt of you in his bedsheets, dreamt of what you would look like under him, dreamt of kissing your eyelashes. That he wanted to hold your hand, that he looked at you sometimes when you worked, in your shared office, because he just couldn’t help it. That you were beautiful, that he thought about you all the time, that he couldn’t eat at the thought of spending a moment with you. That he wanted to kiss you now, and forget about your exes, and take you on a nice date, whatever you would like.

He wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t.

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