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multifandomfanficss · 4 months ago

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Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfiction #twisters oneshot #Tyler Owens fanfiction #tyler Owens fanfic #tyler owens oneshot #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #Glen Powell fanfiction #Glen powell oneshot #glen powell x reader #twister #twisters 2024

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inuyashaluver · 9 months ago

Note

can you write a jessie x hockey!r, where r gets into a fight during one of her games and jessie is watching from the stands with some of the chelsea players? thx

cheeky - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which your girlfriend brings her friends to her cheeky girlfriend’s game

warnings: jessie still plays for chelsea!! let’s pretend ucla offers women’s hockey 🫠 swearing, mentions of a fight, suggestive

a/n: you guys don’t understand how much this request has infiltrated my tiny brain, thank you you so so much, my love, enjoyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie were quite literally some of the nicest people alive. every time someone was around the two of you for either a short or long time, they came out feeling lighter, happier and all round just more positive.

you and jessie just radiated love, a special bond between the two of you that was just undeniably beautiful.

—

you and jessie met at a college party years ago. you both went to ucla yet never crossed paths until this party. you weren’t really a party goer and neither was jessie, you both found refuge in the backyard of the house you were at.

both of your friend groups had unknowingly ditched you and you both wanted some air, away from all the drunk frat boys and sorority girls.

“sorry, do you mind if i sit here?” you ask the brunette where she sat on a small bench. her head snapped up from her phone at hearing a familiar accent. canadian.

“oh, yeah, go ahead!” jessie stutters, scooching over a little and patting the spot next to her. you smile at her gratefully, sitting down with an exaggerated huff.

jessie lets out a laugh when you sat, both of you looking at each other with bright smiles. you both thought the other was breathtakingly gorgeous, feeling like the party was a little worth it at this point.

“you sick of seeing people basically fucking each other everywhere too?” you ask her with a shake of your head, your eyes falling on a couple making out in a way that should definitely be behind a closed door.

jessie chuckles, looking down at the cup in her hand and nodding while taking a sip of it. “that and my friends ditched me” she rolls her eyes, you nudge her shoulder with yours, “mine too, don’t worry” you grin, making her return one shyly.

“i’m (y/n) by the way” jessie smiles, repeating the name in her head that she would surely never forget.

“jessie” you smile at her, pink cheeks a little evident on the both of you when you made eye contact again.

“sorry if this is weird but are you from canada?” jessie asks nervously, your eyes widen comically, your face brightening at the girl's question.

you didn’t really have many friends from back home who came to the states for college. sure there was a bunch of canadian girls at college but none of them were this pretty. or this easy to talk to.

“i am! don’t tell me you are too?” you question, jessie smiled at your excitement, her heart beating quickly at your glistening eyes. she nods, making you start rambling with where she was from.

you both continued to chat and it was scary how much you had in common.

the conversation was full of laughter, shared jokes and most definitely a shared attraction. “so, jessie, what do you do besides being an environmental warrior?” you say cheekily, the girl scoffs, slapping your thigh gently and rolling her eyes,

“i play soccer” she mocks, you give her an impressed smile as she explained how good she really was, “mhm, i should come and watch you sometime, superstar?” you flirt, giving her a charming smile that had butterflies swarming in her stomach.

you’d both gone far from friendly conversation, the flirting taking over after about 2 hours of you familiarising yourself with each other.

“yeah, maybe you should, and you? miss number solver?” she teases back, referring to you doing an accounting degree.

“i play hockey” you move a little so you could face her better and she does the same, although, her face has a shit eating grin on it.

“what’s so funny?” you narrow your eyes at her, “you’re so canadian” she laughs, you shake your head as she throws her head back in laughter, clearly enjoying how you’re not even defending yourself.

she encourages you to talk about your sport and to say she fell in love with you there was an understatement. you spoke with so much passion she really loved to see and hear it.

you also admit you fell in love with her when she talked about her sport, but even more with how intently she was listening to you, soaking in every word you said and clarifying things she didn’t understand.

you both felt something bubbling under the surface as you talked, so much so, when the party started to filter out, she asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and who were you to decline?

the teasing and the flirting throughout the whole night was so unbearable, you asked her out on a date without a second thought, smiling brightly when she accepted without any hesitation.

you both began to date after a few months, becoming one of the ‘it couples’ around campus when everyone could truly tell how much you were in love with each other.

you went to each other’s games with bright, adoring smiles, wearing each other’s jerseys with pride.

you had study dates together, most of the time getting distracted but neither part was complaining.

you were there for each other throughout all the ups and downs, talking and listening to one another for hours and somehow feeling not enough when you were with each other every second of the day.

you’d both established a career before you even graduated college, star athletes in the making in your respected sports.

you’d do anything for each other, so much so you moved with her to england when she signed her contract to chelsea.

—

while jessie played for chelsea, you still continued to play hockey in england also. it was hard being away from home but jessie made it all better.

your continual support for each other offering a sense of security that nothing else could. it also helped that you both represented canada nationally, often getting the opportunity to go home together.

—

the chelsea girls knew you too well, you came to every single game without fail with a bright grin on your face in the ‘fleming’ jersey that was almost worn as much as your own.

“your wife’s here” niamh teases as she warmed up with jessie before a match, the two of you weren’t married, or engaged even, not yet at least but this didn’t stop niamh from wishing you were, knowing how much her best friend adored you.

“where?” jessie grins, stopping all movement and frantically looking for you, niamh directs her head to where you were sitting in the friends and family section and her heart swelled with pride.

you wave at her brightly and she returns it instantly, her face growing warm at the smile you sent her, snapped out of her trance at niamh’s laugh. “such a sap” she smiles, jessie just gives her shoulder a little shove, continuing to warm up.

when the match was over after an easy win, jessie bounded over to you without a second to waste. “hi, baby” you smile as she walked into your arms, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care.

“hi, gorgeous” jessie says breathlessly, pulling you into a sweet kiss with her hand on your cheek. you smile against her, your own hand on the side of her neck, your thumb brushing against her skin gently.

“my superstar” you say as you pull away, brushing away some stray hairs from her face before pulling her into a tight hug.

“gotta impress my wag, baby” she says cheekily, kissing your cheek repeatedly to make you giggle, working successfully like it did every time.

“i’m definitely impressed, baby canada” you smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips as you pulled away slightly.

her hands make her way to your waist, rubbing up and down gently as you chatted, only lasting for a couple of seconds before you ushered her to interact with the fans.

“i’ll see you at home, beautiful” she winks, pecking your lips before running away, shouting a quick “i love you” over her shoulder that you quickly returned before leaving to drive home.

—

you had an upcoming game, an important one at that. you’d been nervous about it all week, jessie frequently having to calm you down so you could breathe. you were the captain, both for this team and the canada team so a lot of pressure fell on your shoulders.

the only reassurance you had was knowing jessie would be there, even inviting some of her teammates to come and watch you since they had the day off.

jessie wasn’t one to miss an opportunity where she got to ogle her talented girlfriend and show you off at the same time so she was extremely excited.

the morning of, let’s just say it was extremely difficult to get you out of the house.

“what if i fuck up?” you whine, turning from the door and walking back to jessie who was watching you from the doorway. “you won’t” she assures, pinching your cheek softly before turning you around and giving you a soft push to the door.

you turn back around, “what if something goes wrong?” you say nervously, “baby, you’ll be fine, we can deal with it” jessie chuckles, you throw your head back in annoyance.

the people who only knew you from hockey would be shocked to know you did this before every game. they’d be shocked to know how soft you were when it came to your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to go” you groan, jessie draws you in by your waist, her arms wrapped around them securely, “baby, you’ll be amazing, like always” jessie says earnestly, her brown eyes looking directly into yours so you knew she wasn’t lying.

“but you don’t know that” you pout, jessie quickly smiling before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“i’m your girlfriend, i know everything” she says cheekily, pecking your lips a couple of times and managing to pull a small smile out of you.

“you go do your best, that’s all i want from you” she smiles, her hands now cradling your face as your arms wrap around her. “okay” you breathe out, determined.

smiling before pulling her into a breathless kiss that made both of you feel dizzy, sharing a quick i love you before she had to physically push you out of the house, knowing you’d convince her to stay.

—

jessie made her way to the arena in your jersey, your number written neatly tiny on her cheek. she was accompanied by niamh, zećira, aggie and hannah.

to say jessie got teased the entire time was an understatement but she didn’t care, she had no shame with the amount of love she had for you.

when you skated out on the ice with the ‘C’ over your heart, you had no ounce of nervousness at all. a complete contrast from the morning.

the truth is, on the ice, you were ruthless, completely contradicting how you were off the ice.

you carried yourself with complete confidence, expecting nothing but the best. you were a little rough but one of the best players and everyone knew it. you didn’t take any bullshit.

you were strategic, smart and calculated. you knew what you were doing and you were the captain both in this league and nationally for a reason. a team leader without fail. a role model, a borderline legend.

jessie and her friends cheered loudly for you when your name was announced on the loudspeaker. jessie watched as you waved around the arena before locking back in, skating around the ice in preparation for the game.

jessie was on the edge of her seat the entire time watching you, scoring 2 points in a short amount of time. you were playing exceptionally well, jessie’s heart swelled with pride but she was extremely nervous how this one player kept trying to rile you up.

she knew you didn’t take any disrespect and knew this girl was about to get her ass handed to her.

the girl was being overly physical with you and you would counter it every time. she was the other captain and knew she’d get thrown into the box if she tried anything too much. her behaviour was surprising.

but the girl continued, having the nerve to be near you every time with something to say every two seconds.

you’d ignore it, having dealt with people more annoying than this but it flipped when she started talking about jessie. your jessie.

she started with the insults about you until she said, “is your girlfriend some sort of puck bunny?” you fucking lost it.

you dropped your stick and both of you break out into a heated fight. fists flying before you grabbed her by her shirt, slamming her into the glass and spitting out words that we’re definitely not family friendly. jessie’s eyes were so wide in shock, never really seeing you in a fight like this before.

��talk about my girlfriend like that again and i’ll shove the puck down your fucking throat” you exclaim, getting pulled back by the referee and getting told to go to the penalty box.

you send a glare to the girl and she falters almost instantly before you skated to the box. you sat down with a huff, arms crossed over your chest as you watched your team dominate the other.

jessie shook her head while she looked at you, niamh and zećira cheering you on throughout the fight and even more now that you were in the box.

when your ten minutes was up, you played the rest of the game with passion, finishing with an easy and well deserved win. jessie ran down to where the change rooms were, her teammates waiting nearby.

jessie watched as you skated off the ice, catching your breath as you quickened your pace to jessie. her face was etched with worry as you approached, watching as you took off your helmet hastily and took out your mouth guard.

“hey, baby” you say brightly, bounding over and wrapping jessie up in a hug, your face instantly tucked into the crook of her neck, your cold nose brushing against her warm skin.

“for someone that just beat the shit out of someone, you’re very happy” she says amusingly, her arms wrapping around you without hesitation.

“she deserved it, trust me on that” and jessie did. you pull away from her at arms length, a cheesy smile plastered on your face as you looked at her.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearly laced with worry, you nodded, kissing jessie’s cheek tenderly as you drew her a little closer.

“i’m fine, love, especially since my biggest fan is here” you grin, “you should see the other guy” you laugh as jessie slaps your shoulder lightly, “cheeky” she chuckles, pulling you into another tight hug in absolute relief you were okay.

you could tell she was on edge because of the circumstances, the hug telling you everything you needed to know. you hugged her tightly, letting her find solace in you and honestly calming you both down.

you wave over at her teammates when she pulls away and chat with them excitedly. you held onto jessie’s hand the entire time you all chatted, thanking them for coming and watching.

“what does that say on your stick?” niamh questions, you smile, moving your hand to show that you’d written jessie’s name with a little heart next to it on your tape, a tradition for you ever since you’d started dating.

“good luck charm” you grin, both of you getting teased for your bright pink cheeks. you say goodbye to them before they leave, turning back to jessie with a sweet smile. this is the side of you she knew the best. an absolute softie.

before you get changed, you draw jessie into another kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against her when she whined against your mouth.

you give her an amused expression, seeming as though she was a little riled up about the whole situation. “shut up” she groans, pushing you away by your chest slightly but you came right back, pressing a sweet peck to her lips,

“i didn’t say anything” you mumble against her, squeezing her hips gently before you ran to the change room, wanting to get back home as quick as possible.

let’s just say violence is never the answer but is excusable only for the way your girlfriend reacted to you when you both stepped through the door of your shared apartment.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: you wouldn’t know she beat someone up 10 minutes before this but here we are

view all comments

yourname: so worth it

↳ _jessflem: really was actually

niamhcharles17: your girlfriend’s got a crazy fist on her but is SUCH a softie

↳ yourname: watch it niamhy

↳ _jessflem: biggest softie ever

↳ yourname: you’re supposed to defend me

↳ _jessflem: i love you?

↳ yourname: yeah. whatever. i love you too.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming

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vettelsvee · 7 months ago

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YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend

wordcount: 1529

a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)

you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.

To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.

In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.

As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.

"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."

Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.

"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.

You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.

"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.

"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."

"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.

You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.

"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."

"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"

You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.

"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"

With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.

Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.

Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.

You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.

"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.

Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.

"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.

Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:

"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"

Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.

"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.

Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.

"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"

The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.

"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"

You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:

"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"

Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.

"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.

"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"

"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."

"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."

Charles felt really stupid at that moment.

"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.

"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.

"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."

Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.

"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."

"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.

Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.

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nataliescatorccioapologist · 4 months ago

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Everything we know about Yellowjackets Season 3 so far (and some theories)…

Please feel free to add on if I missed anything in a comment or reblog!

Filming schedule and potential release date

Yellowjackets Season 3 filming began on May 14th and will wrap up on October 24th. They are filming primarily in Vancouver, Canada.

According to an article from Deadline, Season 3 will not be released until “early 2025.” However, if we look at the filming to release date patterns for Seasons 1 and 2, we could potentially get Season 3 a bit earlier or, at the very least, in very early 2025. Season 1 wrapped filming in September 2021 and started airing episodes in November 2021. Similarly, Season 2 ended filming in February 2023 and started airing in March 2023. So, feasibly, we could get Season 3 any time from December 2024 to February 2025🤞

There will be a time skip in the teen timeline (and possibly the adult timeline)

So, as many of us know, official Yellowjackets social media accounts posted these behind the scenes photos for the first day of filming Season 3 on May 14th:

These photos are for the filming of 3x01, and they show that the girls are clearly not struggling to survive the winter anymore. There is no snow on the ground and everything is green and growing, indicating that it is now Spring in the teen timeline. A short video of the Yellowjackets theme song with clips of flowers growing interspersed throughout it was also posted on the Yellowjackets social media accounts, supporting that Season 3 takes place in the Spring.

We see some makeshift shelters made of wood in the background of these photos, as well, so it looks like there will be a time skip to when the girls have started to build a new civilization for themselves. It is unclear if we’ll see any scenes immediately following the cabin burning down, or if they’re just going to plop the viewers down a few months later in Spring. I’m hoping they explain how they got to this point at least a little bit, though! Even if it’s just through flashbacks. Season 2 did start us off 2 months after Jackie’s death, though, and we never really got to see any scenes of the immediate aftermath of that.

And there may be a time skip in adult timeline, as well. Someone on Twitter (can’t remember their username, please share if you know!) shared this photo of a Yellowjackets filming site:

The photo shows a poster for an art museum exhibit taking place at the end of 2023. The Twitter user said that the bus stop and poster shown here were built by the Yellowjackets crew and were taken down when the filming wrapped at this location, which means this poster was created specifically for the show. Also, this exhibit doesn’t exist in real life and that photo is a stock image. This implies that there will be a 2 year time skip in the adult timeline, as Seasons 1 and 2 took place in 2021. Once again, I hope they show us some of the immediate aftermath of the Season 2 finale and don’t just skip over it! I want to see how the survivors handle Nat’s death!

Walter is back, the actress for Gen was replaced, Nat’s hair is grown out! (finally), and Nat still wears Jackie’s heart necklace in Season 3…

Yellowjackets also posted a behind the scenes video of their first day of filming Season 3:

Walter is back for Season 3 as Elijah Wood states in the video. Many of the other cast members are shown as well, (Jasmin, Sammi, both Sophies, Courtney, etc.) all of whom we expected to return.

But one person that is absent from this video is Mya Lowe, the actress that played Gen in Season 2. Mya appears to have left Yellowjackets in pursuit of a Netflix show she is filming right now, and therefore she has been replaced by actress Vanessa Prasad, whom we can briefly see in this video.

We can also see that Nat’s roots are finally growing out! And Jackie’s gold heart necklace that Shauna placed around her neck before the hunt scene in 2x08 is still on her! Which might mean the heart necklace now serves as a symbol of her leadership (at least until it gets placed on Pit Girl’s neck).

Ella Purnell’s possible return

There have been quite a few clues that Ella Purnell, who played Jackie Taylor, may be returning for Season 3 despite the death of her character.

First, this photo was posted to Instagram, which shows Ella Purnell in Vancouver during Yellowjackets filming dates:

Yellowjackets does film in Vancouver, and Ella Purnell didn’t really have any excuse for being there at the time. Her time there would definitely align with the Yellowjackets filming schedule.

Also, Ella posted a picture of herself in a filming trailer that looks identical to the filming trailers used on the Yellowjackets set, as we can see in this photo of Sophie Nelisse (young Shauna) in her trailer:

Literally identical (look at the lights, the cabinets, the microwave!) Could the “new project” Ella is referring to be Yellowjackets Season 3?

Lastly, we have this IMDb screenshot for 3x03, which lists a person playing Ella Purnell’s stunt double:

This could be an error on IMDb’s part but with all of the other clues it’s looking like Jackie might make a Season 3 appearance! She could be appearing as a ghost/hallucination again like she did in Season 2, or we might be getting some pre-crash scenes! Especially considering that there’s a stunt double needed, maybe we’ll get pre-crash soccer scenes?

Adult Taivan scenes!!

Reddit user galaxyvixen claimed to be an extra on Season 3 of Yellowjackets and posted these behind the scenes photos:

It appears that adult Van and Tai are going to see Kill Bill together in this scene, and they look pretty cozy together (look how close their hands are!) so I think it's very likely that we'll see a romantic reunion plot line between adult Van and Tai this season. Also interesting to note, the Reddit user who posted these photos captioned them "Columbia St, New Westminster B.C. Can't wait for December!"

What do they mean by December???? Could that be the release date for Season 3? The original poster never really explained this and has now deleted this post. Take the December information with a grain of salt, though, because I highly doubt that the crew would tell an extra on set a highly secretive release date.

Jennifer Morrison Directing (and BTS adult Lottie shots!)

Jennifer Morrison (known for playing Emma Swan on Once Upon a Time) has been confirmed to be directing at least one Season 3 episode (but maybe two?) She posted a confirmation to her IG story and some BTS photos and videos of her directing Simone Kessell (AKA adult Lottie) were released.

Notice how Lottie's jacket here is so similar to the one she wears in the Wilderness! Also, she is exiting what appears to be a government building called "Atlantic Coast Trust." Maybe she's settling her father's estate? Maybe it has something to do with her getting out of the psychiatric hospital? Maybe she was summoned to court for some reason?

The bonus episode

Both the cast and writers have confirmed that there will be a bonus episode in between Seasons 2 and 3 to make up for the fact that Season 2 only had 9 episodes. Ashley Lyle, a show runner and writer, has said this bonus episode will release "closer to S3." The episode has already been filmed and features Melanie Lynskey's husband, Jason Ritter. Sophie Nelisse has said that she and the rest of the main cast were not present for filming, indicating that none of the main characters will be in this episode. Some photos from the set of this bonus episode were released:

These show Jason Ritter holding a baby, and he is wearing the plaid coat that the girls found on Cabin Guy's body in the attic. The cabin also appears to be in the background. Because of these photos, many people think the bonus episode will be about Cabin Guy. We got an interesting piece of information from a deleted scene in the script of 2x07:

The letter Van finds in this episode seems to have been written by Cabin Guy's wife or Cabin Guy himself. It mentions a baby, possibly the baby seen in the leaked photos. Bear with me here, but I think that this baby could potentially still be alive and could actually be the "friend" that kept Javi alive during the winter. She may have run away after something bad went down with her father, and found refuge in the tree stump all these years. She could be a teenager like the rest of them now and could be responsible for moving Crystal's body. Maybe the bonus episode will reveal this? Either way, I do think there is a good chance that the bonus episode will be centered around Cabin Guy. I think the episode could be released around Halloween or maybe in December around Christmas.

The FBI is involved?

Someone found a Yellowjackets filming location at Trout Lake and snapped a photo of the set:

The photo shows an FBI truck on the set. Could this be a post-rescue scene? Or perhaps the FBI has launched an investigation into the deaths of Adam Martin, Kevyn Tan, and Natalie in the adult timeline? Either way this photo has me excited.

More behind the scenes photos

Sophie Nelisse posted (and promptly deleted) this photo on her story. It looks like we'll be getting a scene of Shauna in the lake. Many people have said that the other girl in the white dress is Courtney Eaton, so Lottie may be involved in this scene too (and possibly wearing Laura Lee's night gown?) As much as I would love this to be a Shauna baptism scene, I just can't fully tell if that's Courtney or not.

And then we also have these set photos posted by Sammi Hanratty which have also now been deleted. They show some pretty impressive wooden huts and structures in the background, showing that the girls are really building their own little society out in the Wilderness. I also love the detail of the airplane seat placed by the firewood.

Joel McHale

Yellowjackets posted on all of their social medias recently that Joel McHale (Community, The Bear) will play a new recurring character in Season 3. Some people are speculating that he may be playing an older Paul (Coach Ben’s boyfriend), and I do see the resemblance and would personally love that.

Interviews

Christina Ricci had this to say about Yellowjackets Season 3:

And Ashley Lyle said the girls are "thriving" in Season 3 in the teen timeline and stated that Season 3 is a "return to Season 1" in terms of vibes and general atmosphere.

Overall, I am so so excited and they need to hurry the fuck up with this season! I literally cannot wait any longer. Here's to hoping that we'll at least get a release date confirmed soon...

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coco-loco-nut · 5 months ago

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Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: not all best friends are lovers.

masterlist ttpd masterlist

_______

Logan has been your best friend since you were in elementary school, and even when he moved away to further his career, you stayed close friends. Logan even sublets a bedroom in your Miami apartment so he stay with you when he’s in town.

It was obvious how much Logan cares for his friends, and maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from falling in love with your kindhearted friend. Oscar always said that the two of them needed you to be social for them, and that they should hire you to be their social media managers. You always refused, asking what an accountant would know about that.

It’s the off season now, and Logan is back home. The cozy apartment feels more like a home now, and the navy blue throw pillows don’t bring down the vibes as much anymore. You are on the phone with Oscar and Lily when you hear the front door open and close, two people stumbling in.

“You need to tell him, you are only hurting yourself,” Oscar says, reading your body language, watching the way that the blue LEDs in your bedroom reflect the sadness in your eyes.

“I’m okay, I have a date tomorrow,” you plaster a smile on your face. Lily doesn’t buy it, and neither does Oscar, but they play along.

“Keep us updated, that’s so exciting,” she says, hoping to take your mind off of what’s happening across the hall.

“Good night?” you ask Logan when he emerges from his room the next morning. The hurt in your heart pushes through the freeze that creeps in, a lingering hurt from one drunken night years ago.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry,” Logan runs his hand through his hair, you look away because despite him being your best friend you just can’t bear to see him. Despite everything, you can’t help stop the growing ice over your heart towards him.

It’s like every day you realize how much you have changed yourself for him, only for him to not care. He’s too addicted to the drug that is his current lifestyle to care about his best friend. The past ten years have been like this, and in your mind it was time to put yourself first.

Logan doesn’t notice your red dress, with your hair and makeup done perfectly, and if he did he never said. He did see you out on your date by accident though. He stops on the sidewalk, staring at you through the window. He calls Oscar on reflex, holding the phone to his ear without looking away from you.

“Osc, Y/n is on a date,” Logan says, processing what he is feeling.

“A likely place for her to be. She has a life outside of you, just because we are your best friends doesn’t mean she needs to dedicate every second to you like she has in the past,” Oscar replies, a little tired of Logan basically ignoring you.

“That’s not true,” Logan protests, but the hurt he’s feeling says otherwise.

“She’s changed so much for you. She wanted to move to Canada, but stayed for you. She’s defended you online against people who still say you don’t deserve to drive, hell, she’s stopped dating a guy because you were coming home. You have this idea of her that just isn’t true anymore,” Oscar rants, every word like a punch to the gut. Logan will always need his best friend, but he is realizing the truth behind Oscar’s words.

“This guy looks like he would’ve bullied us in school,” Logan watches as you laugh at something the guy says, and as much as he hates to admit it, you look happier than you have since he’s gotten home. Said guy is tall, taller than him, with the body of a gym bro but polished enough that he seems well educated.

“Good for her, she deserves to be happy, I’ll have to call her tomorrow and ask about it. Lily will want to know too,” Oscar’s tone changes, clearly happy to move away from being a middle man.

“You knew?” Logan asks, wondering why you didn’t say anything.

“Have you thought to ask? You live with her. Surely you noticed she was dressed up,” Oscar questions. Logan just watches you with someone else, not understanding why his heart hurts.

Logan thinks back to every time you changed, it was always related to something he said, and when it raised concerns in his mind, he simply brushed it off, not until you started being cold. You would’ve stopped, you wouldn’t have started to push him away if he said he loved you the way that you were, even as a friend.

Logan can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the guy sitting across from you, your coldness broken away. Little did he know that the thought would shatter you if you knew, like ice breaking into millions of pieces.

Logan looks away, noticing you have that look in your eye, the same one from your belated 21st birthday. Sighing as he walks down the street, he plays back that night, traveling through the passages in his mind to find the memory.

You had drunkenly stumbled into him, impaired by the copious amounts of alcohol and newfound freedom. The next the both of you knew, you were in his bed, wrapped up in one another. Logan called it a mistake and you moved on, not wanting to dwell on it, lest you get hurt.

Logan goes back to your apartment, waiting for you to get home. He doesn’t know why he hates the idea of you being out with another guy, maybe it’s because you are his friend. He perks up at the sound of the front door opening, watching you walk in with a cheerful glint in your eye. He lets out a deep sigh before plastering on a smile.

“How was the date?” Logan asks as you sit on the couch across from him.

“I didn’t realize you noticed,” you warily say, confused why he is asking.

“I saw you at the restaurant you were at and Oscar told me,” Logan says slightly accusingly and you can’t help but shake an irritated feeling.

“Well, maybe if you cared more about my life and not just me as your socials manager, than you would’ve known,” you defend yourself. Logan feels a bit like a kicked puppy, especially since your words are true. “I’m going to bed, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you turn away, heading to your room.

The next morning comes faster than you’d like. Logan wakes early to get coffee and pastries, hoping to ease the tension.

“I can’t be your social media manager anymore. I need to do what I am really good at, and what I spent my time getting a degree in,” you say a little abruptly during the conversation.

“But I need you on race weekends,” Logan says, a bit crushed.

“Oscar hired me as his personal accountant, so I could still come to races, but it lets me spread my wings and start my own business,” you tell him, sipping your coffee.

“Let me hire you then too,” Logan offers and you quickly shoot him down.

“No, you struggle to separate me as a friend and me as an employee. We need to fix our friendship first,” you double down.

“I don’t understand, is everything okay?” Logan asks, his concern feels like a stab in the heart.

“I- I just need some space to focus on me. I love you, Lo, you are my best friend, but I can’t be your friend like that and also your employee. It doesn’t work well for us,” you say, lying about why. You just can’t stand to watch him take a new girl home every race weekend, and you need to crush your crush. You can’t keep wondering what would happen if he chose you.

So you do just that, in the next few months you sell your Miami apartment and move to a small beach town in New England. You and Logan are still close, but everything is different now.

Aside from the occasional paddock appearance with him or Oscar, you focused on yourself. You stood at his side while he married an influencer, you helped babysit when he had kids. You floated in his orbit, a close friend but no longer his best friend. Logan and Oscar stood by your side when you got married to the same guy you went on the date with before you left Miami.

The only thing that would’ve stopped you from getting married would be Logan’s intervention. He would object, saying he always loved you, and that he will always wonder what would have happened if you had dated. Little did you know, that the only thing stopping him from doing just that was the gold band on his ring finger and the kids sitting beside his wife.

Even now, as you lay in bed beside your husband, you can’t help but wonder what if.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #the tortured poets department

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bqstqnbruin · 1 month ago

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Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?”

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.”

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving.

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning.

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other.

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates.

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life.

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you.

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason.

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person.

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately.

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.”

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.”

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to.

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks.

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car.

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice.

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.”

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.”

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was.

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.”

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know.

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them?

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.”

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call.

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice.

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level.

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.”

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that.

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week.

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles.

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink.

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.”

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly.

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.”

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them.

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway.

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him.

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car.

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.”

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.”

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.”

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.”

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.”

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it.

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now.

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.”

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.”

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.”

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before?

You call Lena while you were getting ready.

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.”

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you.

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit.

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door.

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place.

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front.

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.”

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car.

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together.

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his.

“I have no idea, actually.”

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?”

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out.

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view.

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you.

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you.

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you.

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.”

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine.

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.”

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.”

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?”

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?”

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.”

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.”

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people.

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer.

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today.

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine.

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged.

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.”

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there.

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first.

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.”

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.”

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you.

He was faking it.

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head.

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you.

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.”

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others.

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.”

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time.

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport.

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park.

“Can I admit something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.”

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.”

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk.

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag.

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him.

“No.”

#brock boeser #brock boeser fic #brock boeser imagine #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #canucks #canucks fic #canucks imagine #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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spidergrysn · 8 months ago

Text

Spider!Mark origins: Mark Lee x Reader

cw: part one of many, spider! mark, kinda sorta in the mcu????!? just a bit, haechan and reader are siblings, slight violence, sloww burn, fluffy, silly banter, EVENTUAL SMUT (none in this chapter) dorky mark lee.

wc: 7.7k🕷️

ISSUE #1: MARK’s ORIGINS. 🕷️🕸️

ISSUE #2 : THE MAKING OF HERO 🕷️

Annoyed was an understatement.

All his life, Mark had been constantly on the move. It felt like he was never going to have the chance to settle down and be a semi-normal person. From living in Canada to South Korea and now to the US, it seemed like there was no point in getting attached to anyone or anything because, just like before, he was more than likely going to endure some type of change. Mark for one wasn’t unfamiliar with change.

His youth had been filled with broken promises, loneliness, and distractions. There were three things in this world that Mark Lee loved more than his aunt and uncle Park: quantum physics, engineering, and music.

Despite the constant upheaval in his life, these passions had remained constant, serving as his anchor in the storm of his ever so changing life. Whether he was studying the intricacies of the universe, tinkering with gadgets and gizmos, or losing himself in the melodies of his favorite r&b songs, Mark found solace in the world of science and creativity.

But even with adoration for his interests, Mark couldn't help but long for stability. He yearned for a place to call home, a community where he belonged, and people who understood him. Yet, each time he packed up his bags to go to yet another house in another city in another place he knew this was nothing more than a distant hope.

That being said, these passions were the only things that seemed to get Mark through the days. There was something about listening to R&B music and testing major theories of famous physicists in his ever-changing bedroom that kept him grounded. So that’s what he did. After moving to different cities in Canada, Korea, and finally the US, he decided to start uploading videos to the internet.

Now, he didn’t show his face, but his videos featured him making different technological devices while simultaneously playing old R&B music in the background. It was some weird niche thing that he adored. Sure, Mark had garnered 100 subscribers, and sure, some of them may have been weird YouTube bots. But when you thought about it, if you put that many people in one room, it would be a whole lot. Sure, his account didn’t get much attention, but the few comments he’d get on his videos made his day. It made him feel like he had “friends.

Recently, he had uploaded a video explaining his view of quantum theory while Aaliyah's smooth voice filled the background. After a couple of hours, he received a notification from a subscriber who usually commented a lot. They had chatted a few times in his YouTube comments, and Mark had learned that he was a physics professor at MidTown university a college in New York which just so happened to be not too far from where Mark was currently living.

Today’s comment was a bit different though as he reads it, Mark could feel his eyes widen, absorbing every word the professor had to say. He had told Mark that there was an upcoming science expo happening at the school. It was free for all and would be a good way to learn new things. Reading this excitedly Mark, he immediately liked the comment before going to his Safari to search the event, and sure enough, it was there: "30th Mid-Town Science Union Expo" on September 3rd. Finally, something Mark had to be excited for. For the next week, that’s all Mark could think of, and his mood had noticeably changed, prompting his auntie to take notice, thinking that Mark had finally made some friends or, dare she say it, a girlfriend, which Mark waved off, saying it was nothing.

As the days passed, Mark found himself eagerly counting down to the expo, his mind buzzing with anticipation. It felt like a rare opportunity to immerse himself in a world of science and innovation, surrounded by like-minded individuals who shared his exact same passion. And as he continued to upload videos to his channel, the thought of attending the expo filled him with a renewed sense of purpose and excitement.

Finally, the day had come. Mark wore a corny math t-shirt that said “find x,” some blue jeans, and his annoying circular prescription glasses that his auntie always nagged him about, making sure he was wearing them at all times or his vision would only get worse.

His body bounced with anticipation as, Mark exited their small house and strolled down the street, making his way to the train station. Ear to ear, he stood on the subway train like an absolute loser, feeling his heart beating against his chest as the train made its stop. He slipped through the other passengers before breaking into a small jog up to the campus. Signs pointing to the event adorned the lawn as Mark made his way there.

He took a few turns before coming upon a gym. He opened the door and was met with a sea of people and all kinds of experiments and technologies. He stood in awe, just observing everything around him. For the next couple of hours, he walked up and down the aisles, taking pictures and listening carefully to all the presenters. He was observing a particularly cool machine when he was interrupted by someone on a microphone.

“Hello, I need everyone’s attention right now! Experiment #127 has gone missing, and we need everyone to quickly exit the gym be sure to check your bodies and under your shoes to make sure it didn’t bite you. If you’ve been bitten, please reach out to me. It’s very, ah, fatal,” the man in the lab coat announced urgently.

Mark looked up at the man, his heart pounding in his chest, as he watched all hell break loose. People were running into each other, things were being broken, and it was absolute chaos. Mark felt himself being shoved out of the way as he made his way towards the exit. Finally, after a few minutes of pushing and shoving, he was able to make it out, out of breath but relieved to have escaped the hell inside.

As darkness covered the streets, Mark walked home his shoulders slumped, annoyance bubbling within him as he muttered to himself. Of course, the one time he decided to go out, it would get ruined. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling of something on his neck. Out of instinct, thinking it was some type of mosquito, he swatted at his neck, feeling the bug squish under his hand.

“Ew, dude, so gross," he muttered to himself, looking at his hand. Mark's eyes widened as he noticed that the bug had eight crooked legs and big, beady eyes. It was definitely not a mosquito. He swatted, wiping his hand his on pants before , exclaiming how there was no way that could be the spider from earlier.

Trying to brush it off as some kind of coincidence, Mark kept walking only to feel his skin start to tingle, his body goes cold but he simply dismissed it as paranoia. Taking a few more steps, he felt his legs turn to jelly, his eyes getting heavy, and he started to feel disoriented before everything turned black.

•

"Is he dead?"

"No, Y/n, he isn’t dead. His leg just twitched."

"I don’t know, Hyuckie, sometimes dead people twitch."

"HOW CAN SOMEONE TWITCH IF THEY'RE DEAD-"

"OH SHOOT, HE'S MOVING! IS HE A ZOMBIE?"

"Y/N, HE'S NOT DEAD, HEADASS."

Mark's head absolutely ached, and the voices he heard were not helping at all. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head. By now, it was morning, and the sun was shining onto him. His glasses were somehow still on his face, but his vision was blurred. With ease, Mark took off his glasses and gasped at the sudden clarity. He could see everything, including the two people in front of him.

They both looked about his age. The boy had dark brown hair and an annoyed look plastered on his face, as if passed-out Mark was some kind of inconvenience. Next to him was a girl, a bit shorter than him, with h/c hair, and a surprised yet curious expression on her face.

"Ah, where the hell am I?" Mark hoarsely asks as he looked between the two. The two exchanged a look of concern before carefully helping Mark onto his feet.

"We found you passed out on the side of the street this morning on our way to a friend’s house, so my sister here thought we should check to make sure you weren’t dead," the boy explained.

Mark rubbed his eyes before cursing, pulling out his phone to see numerous frantic texts and missed phone calls from his aunt and uncle.

"SHIT, they're gonna kill me," Mark muttered, running his hand through his hair. "I've got to go," he said, about to leave. The girl protested, "BUT WAIT, DON'T GO! WHAT IF YOU'RE HU--" And before she could finish her sentence, the boy was already sprinting back home.

"This is what you get for trying to help someone," the boy, Haechan, teased his sister as she rolled her eyes, and they headed to their destination.

•

Mark ran home as fast as he could, his heart pounding out of his chest. He reached the front door and before he could touch the handle, it flew open, revealing his distressed aunt. Her face went from sadness to relief to anger in a matter of seconds as she opened her mouth to reprimand him.

"Lee Minhyung, where in the hell were you?" his aunt demanded, hitting him on the back of the neck, the exact place where he had gotten bitten. Mark winced, but then a thought struck him. Why wasn't he dead? He had passed out from that spider bite that that one professor said to be fatal.. how was Mark still alive?. His thoughts were interrupted as his auntie embraced him, hugging him tightly.

"Please don't do that again, Mark. You scared me and your uncle half to death. I know we've been moving a lot, but I swear this is the last time. I'm sorry if that was upsetting you," she pleaded.Mark enclosed his arms around his aunt, apologizing for his disappearance. He was relieved that his auntie didn’t question it anymore, just happy for him to be back.

"Oh and, Mark,please shower. I love you, but you stink," his auntie teased. Mark lightly laughed before heading into the house , going straight to his room, grabbing some spare clothes, and going to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and got in the shower, letting out a sigh of relief at how relaxing it felt. As he scrubbed his shampoo-filled hair, he tried to recall everything that had happened – the science fair, walking home, the spider bite, the two weirdos – but nothing inbetween the bite and waking up came to mind.

He turned off the shower, wrapping his body in a towel before heading to his room. Shutting the door, he sat on his bed and looked in the mirror, noticing something different. His body looked completely transformed. Mark wasn't out of shape before, just a bit skinny, but now he could barely recognize himself. His whole body was toned, his arms looked like he lifted weights every day.

"What the actual fuck is going on?" Mark muttered to himself, completely confused. First, he passed out, then he couldn't see with his glasses, and now he was built like a character from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure."Minhyung, I made dinner," his aunt's voice rang from the kitchen, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. He quickly got dressed and joined her at the table.

"I made Jajangmyeon," his aunt said, gesturing to the food.

"Ah, thank you, Auntie, I appreciate it," Mark nodded, smiling as she took a seat and began to pray.

“Hey, Mark, I see you're back from your little adventure. I told you, Jen, the man just needed some time to himself," his uncle said, entering the room. He clasped Mark's shoulder as his aunt rolled her eyes and told him to clean up and join them.

As Mark dug into the delicious meal, he couldn't help but notice his auntie and uncle looking at him in awe as he managed to eat five, going on six bowls.

"Who are you and what did you do with my nephew? his auntie chuckles as mark ravenously ate. Mark pauses his eating laughing quietly and shrugging, but he couldn’t help thinking again… what in the hell was wrong with him.”

•

As Mark settled back into his daily routine, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Strange changes were occurring within him. His senses seemed sharper, his reflexes quicker. Initially, he attributed it to the adrenaline rush from the spider venom clearing out of his system, but as more days passed, he began to realize there was something going on with his body he just didn’t know what.

Like a couple days ago he found his phone quite literally sticking to his hand like glue. Another time, as his auntie was about to drop something, and he experienced a weird tingling sensation, and with lightning-fast reflexes, he managed to catch it before it hit the ground. And then there was the odd incident when he dropped something, and as he thrust out his wrists to catch it, he noticed a sticky white fluid oozing from his wrists.

All these thing led Mark to a startling conclusion: either he was going through puberty again, which compared to the things happening to him did not seem highly unlikely, or that spider bite had changed him. It had altered him into some kind of superhuman freak, and Mark struggled to weigh that in his head.

Night after night, Mark found himself hunched over his computer, scouring the web for any clue that could shed light on his newfound abilities. Hours turned into days as he delved into articles and videos, hoping for a breakthrough, only to be met with frustration and defeat. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his hair in frustration before defeatedly turning off his computer and chucking his notebook full of possibilities at the wall. His exhaustion was taking over and he decided to tackle this spider shit tomorrow.

As Saturday morning arrived,Mark found himself awake earlier than usual. The cool breeze whispered through the open window, beckoning him outside. Needing to clear his head a bit , he quietly slipped out of the house, not wanting to disturb his sleeping auntie and uncle. The streets were quiet, the wind was cool, and it was the perfect time for a morning jog.

As Mark pounded the pavement, his thoughts swirled with uncertainty. The rhythmic thud of his footsteps and the steady beat of his music provided a temporary escape, allowing him to clear his mind. He looks at his watch seeing that it was somehow 1 pm… he has been running for a little over 6 hours and hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat.

“What the actual hell is going on.” he groans to himself as he decides to take a break from jogging and try and find something to eat. Weirdly enough , as he was walking down the street a strange sensation washed over him—a familiar tingling that prickled his skin and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. With a frown, he removed his headphones, tuning in to the sounds of the city awakening around him.

Ahead, in a dimly lit alley, Mark heard voices—a commotion that was almost inviting him to come in. Peering around the corner, he spotted a group of men surrounding a lone girl backpack. Their menacing words echoed off the walls as they demanded her belongings."Come on, Stark, no one is here to save you. Hand over your stuff, and nobody gets hurt," one of the men taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

Mark's heart raced as he watched the scene unfold, his mind racing to place where he had seen the girl before. There was something familiar about her, something that tugged at the edges of his memory, but he couldn't quite grasp it. With a surge of adrenaline, Mark knew he couldn't stand idly by. He put his hoodie over his head concealing his face and took a big deep breath. This was his moment to step into the unknown, to test the limits of his newfound powers, and to help someone out.

"And why should I? If you want money so bad, get a JOB... J-O-B. Do you need me to spell 'application' out for you too?" The girl retorted, a hint of amusement in her voice, before one of the guys grabbed her collar.

Without a second thought, Mark sprang into action. With newfound agility and strength, he swiftly removed the robber from the girl's grasp and stood between them, a dorky determined expression on his face as he kept his face down not wanting his identity to be seen by robbers.

"Uh, I wouldn't be doing that if I were you," Mark said, attempting to deepen his voice, though he couldn't help but cringe inwardly at how it came out.

"Oh my God, who is this loser?" the man scoffed, joined by his two lackeys in mocking laughter.

Mark's heart sank at their taunts, but he steadied himself. "Alright, captain save-a-hoe over here. What exactly will you do to me, loser?" the man sneered, before Mark's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing into a pile of trash cans.

"Holy shit, that kid is strong," the other two men exclaimed, abandoning their unconscious companion and fleeing the scene.

Rubbing his barely aching hand, Mark turned to the girl. "Oh, hey... you're welcome for saving you," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," she replied awkwardly, eyeing him with a mixture of surprise and skepticism. "I totally was handling it on my own, but, uh, yeah, sure, thanks."

Mark felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped to be hailed as a hero, not dismissed like he some kind of nuisance. "Sorry, it just looked like you needed help—"

"I didn't. I could've handled it on my own," the girl interjected firmly, before turning to walk away.

Mark sighed, preparing to leave, when he heard her voice again. "Wait, I know you... you're the boy from a few weeks ago, I found passed out." She comes up to him taking his hoodie off, she had gotten a small glance at him when he had bolted in the alley.

And then it clicked—Mark remembered her. "Yeah, that was me. Uh, thank you for helping me that day. I was in such a rush, I wasn't thinking," he admitted sheepishly.

"No worries, consider us even," she said with a soft giggle, extending her hand. "I'm Stark, Y/n Stark."

Mark's eyes widened in surprise. "L-like Stark Industries?" he stammered. Although He had just moved to the US, he would be a fool to not know who Tony Stark was, the billionaire superhero with a niche for technology. The name was practically synonymous with heroism and technological advancements.

Y/n rolled her eyes, clearly used to this reaction. "Yes, like Stark Industries. Usually people say their name when they introduce themselves, but yeah," she replied sarcastically.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mark, Mark Lee," he replied, feeling a bit flustered as he shook her hand.

"Jesus, your grip is strong as hell. Do you lift or something?" Y/n remarked, her eyebrows raised in surprise as she looks from Mark to her attacker that laid knocked out on top of some trashcans.

Mark chuckled nervously, his heart racing as he hesitantly agreed, earning a laugh from the girl beside him. "So, uh, why were those guys giving you a hard time?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

The girl rolled her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Hmm, let me guess. Maybe the fact that my father is a billionaire and one of America's most annoying men on the planet, who knows," she replied sarcastically, her tone laced with slight annoyance.

Mark sheepishly scratched his neck, nodding in understanding. "Uh Can I walk you home or something?" he blurted out, surprising himself with his boldness.

The girl giggled, giving him a small nod. As they walked side by side, Mark listened intently as Y/n told him about her life—her school, her dad, her step-brother Haechan. She spoke with pride about the things in her life, and Mark couldn't help but admire her confidence.

"What about you? I've talked so much about myself, I forgot to even ask you anything," Y/n said, her voice light with laughter.

Mark stumbled over a few awkward "ums" before launching into a tangent about his own life—constantly moving, living with his overprotective auntie and careless uncle, and the fact that he had never had any close friends.

Y/n listened attentively, offering encouraging nods and murmurs of understanding. "Well, you know what, Mark? Consider us friends," she declared, extending her hand in a gesture of truce.

Mark hesitantly shook her hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the simple gesture. She squeezed his hand before announcing that they had arrived at her home.

"Wow, it's really—" Mark began, but Y/n cut him off with a knowing smirk.

"Big, huge, expensive, amazing, and awesome. Thank you. It was a high school graduation gift. This is what happens when you graduate top of your class and your dad is loaded," she finished, her laughter filling the air.

As they reached a gate, Mark watched intently as Y/n tentatively punched in a number. "So, I'll see you around," he trailed off, feeling a sense of reluctance to leave.

"That you will," Y/n replied, her smile radiant. Mark swore her eyes sparkled a bit in the light.

"Thank you, Mark," she said, hurrying through the gate and waving goodbye. Mark waved before walking back home a bit awe struck at the encounter.

•

"Hey, Hyuck," the girl greeted, her hand pushing open the huge door to the sprawling mansion. "And Jeno... and Jaemin and Renjun," she added, spotting her brother's best friends lounging on the plush couch, engrossed in some sort of fighting video game.

"Hey, Y/N," they chorused in unison, their attention briefly diverted before returning back to their game.

"Hate to ruin the fun and all, but Hyuck, can I talk to you?" Y/N asked, her smile carrying a hint of suspicion.

"Yeah, sure," Haechan replied, casting a curious glance at his sister, waiting for her to speak.

"Ahem, ALONEEEE," Y/N insisted, emphasizing the word.

"Ugh, fine," he grumbled, rising from the couch and following Y/N into an empty room. Y/n closes the door behind him as he urges her to speak.

"Okay, well, I almost got mugged today," Y/N confessed weirdly calm.

"AGAIN??? What have I told you about leaving the house without keeping a communicational tracking device? Also Haechan scolded, his irritation all over his face.

“Also you know how to fight i don’t know why you never use that.”

"Ugh that’s so annoying and heavy plus Find my iPhone works just as well, and my dear brother violence is never the answer ," Y/N replied, scratching her neck.

Haechan rolls his eyes at her reply knowing she was full of shit.

"Aht anyways , key word though: ALMOST... I got saved," she continued, a spark of excitement in her eyes.

"Okay, so what's so crazy about that?" Haechan sighed, already bracing himself for another wild story from his sister.

"You know the really cute weird guy we found tweaking on the sidewalk one morning on our way to class?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with even more excitement.

"Yes..." Haechan replied cautiously, raising an eyebrow in anticipation.

"Get this: he's the one that saved me," Y/N revealed, her words hanging in the air, begging for a reaction.

Haechan's eyebrow shot up even higher, his interest piqued. "Okay, but this time he was strong as hell, some kind of superhuman strength, I swear to God. And he dropped in at the perfect time, it was crazy."

"I know exactly where this is going, Y/N," Haechan interrupted.

"Just hear me out, Hyuck," Y/N pleaded, her excitement bubbling over once again.

"I think we should tell Dad about this. It was a bit strange, and I don't know, I think he's some kind of mutant or superhuman guy thingy for sure," Y/N suggested, her mind racing with possibilities.

"Don't you think before you tell Tony, you should get, like, some proof? He could just be really strong, and you know, we did find him on the side of the road. It could be Crack. I heard Crack make people hella strong at times," Haechan reasoned, his tone tinged with skepticism.

Y/N shot her brother a withering glare as her eye twitched in annoyance. "We live in a world full of actual superheroes. Our uncle is a big radioactive green man, and you think this boy is on CRACK ," she said, her frustration evident.

Haechan shrugged indifferently before turning to walk off. "You know how Tony is. Get proof that this guy is some sort of superhuman, and then you can tell them."

"So you're saying I should pull a Joe Goldberg and follow him around," Y/N muttered sarcastically under her breath as Haechan walked away to join his friends.

“Not exactly what I meant, but if that gets you your info, then be my guest," Haechan called back over his shoulder before disappearing into the living room area.

"Asshole, so much for his help," Y/N muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief as she retreated to her room to devise a plan. She was determined to uncover the truth about the mysterious boy who had come to her rescue.

•

As the middle of September came, Mark finally felt like he had some peace in his life. Despite that spider bite giving him these wacky powers, things were good. He was starting up at a private college soon meaning, he finally had a chance to make friends and enjoy being in school for a longer period of time. Although he moved a lot, Mark always made sure to stay on top of his grades and work, and he was so smart that when moving down to New York, he was offered a scholarship at one of the top high-class private colleges. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly excited. His auntie and uncle were doing well and were in good health, and things actually felt normal.

Or at least, normalish. His days were fine, but his nights were filled with endless research. "Radioactive spiders," "superhuman," "mutants" were all over his Google search history. His notebook was filled with pages upon pages of his abilities and his discoveries. Mark would be lying if he said he didn't sneak out his window a few times to stop some petty crimes, dressed in all black and a raggedy Halloween mask to conceal his face.

But despite his newfound abilities and the excitement of starting college, Mark couldn't shake the feeling of something missing. He missed the chance encounter with Y/n, the girl who had saved him and intrigued him all at once. He found himself thinking about her more often than he cared to admit, wondering where she was and if he would ever see her again. But for now, he had to focus on not embarrassing himself on this first day of school keep his nighttime escapades under wraps. After all, being a superhero wasn't exactly part of his college plans.

•

The sun crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Mark's room as his Auntie Park flicked on the light switch, breaking the peaceful morning silence. "Why is it that you’re finally an adult, and I still have to wake you up early for school like you’re 8?" she chided, her voice warm yet tinged with annoyance, before kissing Mark on his head and leaving his room.

Mark groaned, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he rubbed them, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed to start his day. The cozy warmth of his blankets calling for him to stay in bed as he stretched, his muscles protesting the early hour. With a seep sigh, he shuffled over to his closet, grabbing his school uniform he received at his orientation. He was slightly confused that at his big age he’d be wearing a uniform to college, but he wrote it off as something that rich people probably did. He shrugged the thought off as he hastily got dressed, adjusting his tie carefully.

Rushing to the bathroom, Mark brushed his teeth and splashed his face with water aka his sorry excuse of a skin care routine. Drying his face he scurries to put on his shoes-all the while Grabbing a piece of toast from the kitchen, Mark quickly pecked his auntie on the cheek, telling her he’ll see her later before dashing out the door to catch his train to school.

The train ride calming, soft murmurs and the rhythmic hum of the engine, punctuated by the occasional screech of brakes as it slowed to a stop caused Mark to relax a bit. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting with the music pouring through his headphones.

Stepping off the train, Mark found himself immersed in the early morning bustle of the city streets, the cool morning air hit him as he made his way towards the big gates of his prestigious private school. Cobblestones lined the walkway, while vibrant flowers danced in the gentle breeze,

The stained-glass windows of the school caught the early sunlight, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the ground below. Each pane was a reminded Mark of attending church early in the morning with his Auntie and Uncle as a Kid. Mark paused, momentarily lost in the thought , before finally tearing his gaze away to enter the new school .

Inside, the air was alive with the energy of rowdy students and bustling footsteps, students mingling in clusters as they navigated the long hallway. With a deep breath, he pushed forward, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors as he walked to his first class of the day.

Opening the door, Mark was greeted by the warm smile of his teacher as the bell chimed signaling everyone to get to their classes. The teacher greets the class before asking Mark to stay in front of the class to introduce himself.

Mark swayed a bit clenching his jaw as he stood in front of a sea of people wearing red and blue.

his eyes were glued straight ahead as he introduced himself, he adjusts his uniform cuffs as he nervously speaks up.

The classroom hummed with the anticipation as Mark nervously stood before his classmates, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat. "Yo.. uh hi, my name is Mark," he began, his voice betraying him as he cleared his throat. "I'm from Canada, and then I moved to Korea for a bit, and they're both a bit different from New York." His words spilled out in a rush, the syllables tumbling over one another as he struggled to find his footing in this unfamiliar environment. "Uh, I live with my aunt and uncle, and, uhm, yeah, that's about it," he concluded with a nervous laugh, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head.

The teacher nodded encouragingly, gesturing for Mark to take a seat as the other students shifted in their chairs, their curious gazes following his every move. Mark offered a quick bow in gratitude before hurrying to his desk, his mind focused on how he just embarrassed himself. "Way to go, Mark," he chided himself, rubbing his temples wishing he could get rid of the awkwardness in the air from his introduction. With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus as the teacher launched into a lesson on chemical matter, the words washing over him in a blur of scientific nonsense .

Mark began to take notes on the board, plugging his earbuds in as he begins his assignment. Everyone else’s focus is interrupted by the entrance of a late classmate.

The door swung open as a girl stood in the doorway, her uniform askew and her hair gathered into some weird crossover of a ponytail and a bun, she gives the teacher a toothy smile and a sorry as she tries to catch her breath.

The teacher's annoyed sigh filled the room as He sternly gaze at the girl. "Miss Y/n, this is the third time you've been late this week… and it’s only Wednesday,"He said, his tone full of annoyance.

Y/n's eyes widened with remorse as she profusely apologized , her words tumbling out scattered . "I know, I've just been getting caught up with other things," she explained, her voice trailing off as she met the teacher's unwavering gaze. With a weary sigh, the teacher issued a final warning, threatening to involve Y/n's father if her punctuality did not improve. Defeated, Y/n slunk to the back of the classroom, sinking into an empty desk next to the new boy, her expression a mixture of annoyance and frustration .

As Mark’s head nodded to the beat of his headphones, he felt a subtle shift in the air beside him. Sensing someone's presence, he instinctively unplugged his headphones, his gaze locking with y/n's, whose eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected encounter.

"Mark?" she exclaimed, a hint of disbelief painting her voice as she struggled to contain her excitement at the random meeting.

"Oh, Wow yo y/n, hey," Mark replied, equally taken aback by their chance encounter. The coincidence of the girl that’s he’s been thinking about going to the same school as him made his heart pitter-patter.

"You're stalking me or something, tiger?" y/n teased, a playful smirk gracing her lips as she watched Mark's face flush with embarrassment at the nickname.

"N-no, no, no, it's just—" Mark stuttered, his words faltering as y/n interrupted him with a soft laugh, her amusement evident in the twinkle of her eyes.

"I'm just messing with you, but seriously, what brings you here—to a small private college in New York?" y/n inquired, her curiosity piqued as she observed Mark with a raised eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over him inquisitively.

"Last time I checked, you aren't a spoiled rich kid whose family buys everything for them. You also just look really out of place," she added, a playful grin dancing on her lips as Mark chuckled nervously and explained the circumstances of his scholarship.

"Wow, so you're much smarter than you look. Good to know," y/n remarked teasingly, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a mischievous smile as they shared a lighthearted moment.

As the lesson resumed, Mark and y/n launched into small talk, their conversation flowing effortlessly, their laughter mingling with the hum of the classroom. Despite their initial awkwardness at their first meeting , Mark couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in y/n's presence, as if they were old friends catching up after a long absence. And as they went deeper in conversation, the world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, lost in their convo.

•

As the teacher's lesson drew to a close, the classroom gradually began to stir signaling the end of the class. Mark watched as his classmates gathered their belongings, their movements synchronized as the excited the class. The teacher's voice rose above the all the movement , emphasizing the importance of an upcoming assignment deadline.

Mark didn’t even hear a word he said his attention was suddenly diverted by the presence of y/n, standing just a few steps behind him. Surprise flickered across his features as he turned to face her, his curiosity piqued by what she’s about to ask him.

"What class do you have next?" she asks, her voice cheery as ever.

Mark blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by the question. "Uh, this is my lunch period," he replied, trying to remember .

A smile tugged at the corners of y/n's lips as she met his gaze. "It's mine too," she revealed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mark nodded in acknowledgment, a sense of relief washing over him at the fact that he didnt have to sit by himself at lunch. "Uhh maybe, we can go together then," he suggested, his words punctuated by a slight stutter.

Y/n's smile widened at his response, her excitement contagious as she grabs his wrist. “Uh isn’t the lunch room, this way?” Mark asks gesturing down a hallway as y/n looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not," she declared, her tone laced with determination. "Let's take my car and go off campus."

Mark's brow furrowed in confusion, no way he goes to a school like this and the food is bad.

"Is the food bad or something?" he asked curious fabout how quickly she’s ready to leave

Y/n shook her head, a playful glint in her eye. "No, the food is fine," she reassured him. "It's just... it's loud and there are too many people. I prefer to eat out."

Mark nodded in understanding, his curiosity giving way to intrigue as he followed y/n's lead, allowing her to guide him out of the classroom and into the bustling parking lot beyond.

As they made their way across the asphalt parking lot, y/n's steps quickened with purpose, leading them to a vibrant red 1990 Acura parked nearby. Mark's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the vintage vehicle, its classic design standing in stark contrast to the sleek sports cars that dotted the parking lot.

"Nice ride, huh?" y/n remarked, her gaze seeking Mark's approval.

Mark nodded in agreement, his admiration evident as he took in the car's well-maintained exterior. "Yeah, it's pretty cool," he conceded, a smile gracing his lips as y/n unlocked the car, signaling him to get in the passenger seat.

As y/n settled into the driver's seat, she reached over to fasten her seatbelt, adjusting her mirrors as the car roared to life. Mark watched her with interest, noting the way her delicate fingers navigated the controls of her phone, he quickly looks away when he thinks he might be staring too hard.

"Do you like SZA?" she asks, her eyes flicking to meet his as she pulled out of the parking lot, the slow beat of the music filling the car with its infectious rhythm.

Mark's face lit up with excitement at the mention of the artist. "I do, I really love music in general," he replied, his voice oozing with enthusiasm as he settled into his seat. As the melody enveloped them, he found himself humming along, his voice blending seamlessly with the rich tones of the song.

Y/n's smile widened at his response, "Oh really now, that's super cool," she remarked, her gaze softening as she focused on the road ahead. "I love music as well. I'm not a singer—I can't hold a single note—but I appreciate the beauty of it."

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of laughter and song recommendations, the car filled with the sounds of their shared enthusiasm. As y/n drove through the busy winding roads, , their conversation flowed effortlessly as they delved deeper into each other's lives.

Eventually, y/n pulled up to a gate, her hand entering a code before the gate swung open, granting them access to the sprawling estate Mark had seen before.

Y/n parks the car, and motions Mark to follow her as she stepped out of the car, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble of the driveway. As they made their way towards the entrance.

As they reached the door, y/n fumbled a bit with the buttons, her fingers tapping eagerly against the keypad until the lock clicked open, revealing the warm glow of the entrance, only to be met with the sight of her brother and his friends sprawled out on the couch, their attention fixed on the tv and a greasy pizza box balanced on the coffee table.

"Why are you guys skipping class?" y/n demanded, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she looked the scene before her. Her brother and his friends exchanged sheepish grins, their laughter echoing through the room.

"Free period," Jeno replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, his gaze meeting y/n's with a hint of mischief.

"We can ask you the same thing, missy," Jaemin chimed in, a sassy smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Aht, it's my lunch period," y/n retorted, her tone laced with playful defiance as she stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning the faces of her brother's friends. Spotting Mark hovering awkwardly by the doorway, she motioned for him to join her.

"This is Mark," she introduced, her voice warm as she gestured towards him. "Mark, this is Jaemin, Jeno, and Renjun. You've met Haechan."

Mark nodded politely, a small smile playing at his lips as he exchanged greetings with y/n's brother and his friends.

"Anyways, I'm gonna warm us up some food, and we can sit in my room," y/n announced, her trying to contain her excitement as she moved towards the kitchen. But before she could finish her sentence, Haechan interjected with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Not so fast, someone is in the office right now, and if he realizes you're home without saying anything to him, he's gonna be pissed," he teased, a grin spreading across his face as y/n groaned in frustration.

But before y/n could protest, Haechan's expression shifted, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he turned to Mark with a devilish grin.

"Come here, Mark. Have you ever wanted to meet Tony Stark?" he asked, his voice tinged with excitement as he beckoned Mark closer.

•

"Are you serious? Really?" Mark asked, his eyes widening in surprise at Haechan's revelation.

"No, sorry, I was kidding. You should've seen the look on y'alls faces! I couldn't resist," Haechan chuckled mischievously, dodging a playful swipe from y/n as she scolded him.

"You're so annoying, Hyuck," she groaned in mock exasperation before turning to Mark with an apologetic smile. "Come on, Mark, let's go."

Mark followed y/n down a hallway, the sounds of laughter and chatter fading behind them as they ascended a staircase. They made a few turns before arriving at a door, y/n swinging it open arms wide.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she announced, gesturing grandly at the cozy space beyond.

"Humble, really? Your room is as big as my whole house," Mark chuckled, his eyes roaming over the aesthetically pleasing decor that adorned the walls and windowsills. Lush green plants added a touch of nature to the space, while a plush rug sprawled across the floor invited relaxation. Bean bag chairs beckoned from one corner, while a large bed occupied another, and y/n's impressive PC setup commanded all of Mark’s attention.

"Take off your shoes and make yourself at home," y/n insisted, gesturing for Mark to get comfortable.

"I'm gonna go warm us up some leftover pasta from this really good place down the street," she continued, flashing Mark a bright smile before darting downstairs. Moments later, she returned, balancing two steaming plates of pasta in her hands.

•

The two of them sat comfortably on y/n's floor, plates of pasta in hand, both glued to some random video that y/n had put on.

"You know, Mark, I have a question," y/n began, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"What's up?" Mark replied, a mouthful of food momentarily slowing his response.

"You know a few weeks ago when you saved me?" y/n asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

Mark's hesitation was evident as he replied, "Uh-huh..."

"Did that have anything to do with you passing out on the sidewalk and having that big-ass spider bite on you?" y/n pressed, her gaze fixed intently on him.

Mark's attempt at denial was feeble. "Uhhh, no, what? Why? Nooo," he stammered, his words failing to convince her.

"Uhh, what spider? How do you know it's a spider? It could be a totally different bite, like mosquitoes," Mark blurted out, his voice laced with nervousness.

y/n looked at him deadpan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Mark, I'm not stupid! You got bitten by something, and it gave you powers. AKA, that spider that got loose at that science expo."

Mark's eyes widened in disbelief. "Uhhh, how did you know that?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

y/n simply shrugged. "I did a little research," she replied casually. "You were found a few blocks from a college that later announced to, uhh, let's say 'higher ups' that a dangerous spider got loose. And then you just so happened to step in and beat those assholes up when I was in trouble."

Mark's shock was evident as y/n continued. "Oh, and let's not forget your nightly crusades," she added, watching as different emotions flitted across Mark's face.

"You wanna know how I know, Mark?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.Mark nodded, eager to hear her explanation.

"Okay, well, the news has been saying lately that petty crime rates have been down, and those assailants all end up somehow wrapped in webs? Crazy, right?" y/n chuckled, observing Mark's reaction.

"Also, I didn't know if that was exactly you, but your face confirms my suspicions," she said, giggling.

"I... I don't know what to say," Mark admitted, feeling a bit unnerved by y/n's deduction.

"The only thing I want you to say is yes," y/n said, her eyes locking onto his.

"Yes?" Mark asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"Yes," y/n affirmed. "Mark, let me train you. Let me be your brains of operation. Let me turn you into a real superhero."

Mark tilted his head at her, a bit hesitant. After a moment of contemplation, he uttered a confident, "Yes!"

•

WOAHH i am so tired LOL!!! hope you guys enjoyed i love me someee spider man mark lee!!! idk mark and peter parker just have so many cute dorky similarities i love it. a few things im gonna say

-Mark is spider-man in this Au there is no peter parker

-His Aunt and Uncles last names are Park a little reference to Peter’s Aunt May and Ben Parker

-reader & haechan are half siblings that grew up together aka tony stark is a man whore!

anyways second part will be up soon :)!! i’m turning 20 in a few days so it may not update for a minute!!!! also thank you guys for really loving challengers 🤗💞💞

#mark lee #nct 127 #mark lee nct #nct dream #mark lee reader #nct fluff #mark lee fluff #mark lee spider man #mark fluff #mark lee smut #nct au #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct smut

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seat-safety-switch · 10 months ago

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Have you been told to get your ducks in a row? Waterfowl linearity is actually impossible: the counterfactual was proven back in the 60s by completely sober mathematicians. Because of the native imprecision of our universe, and the variance within animals, each duck is gonna be one or two microns away from perfect alignment even before you take into account the inherent jiggling motion of their constituent atoms. Of course, the media isn't going to tell you this. They just want to sell ads, promising the impossible dream of dorsine parallelism.

When I was a kid, my dad and I used to go to the park on weekends and evenings. Usually, this was when my mom was sick of watching me disassemble every mechanical object within thirty miles and stuff the entrails into any available copse "for later." Together, as you do when the austerity-choked public park system is devoid of nearly every other amenity, we'd look at the duck pond. Because I live in Canada, ducks were sometimes hard to find. In the winter, which is often, the drakes and hens fuck off to a warmer clime in order to enjoy their hedonistic lifestyles without discomfort, leaving behind a frozen pond and occasionally one or two confused geese. I could have left, too, I tell myself, but I'm toughing it out.

Back to ducks, and my father: like any good dad, he would tell me dozens of useless facts about the world that never sank in until it was tragically too late for me to realize they were useful at exactly one point in my life. Again, me not listening is not my fault. I was simply too captivated with studying the industrial plated finish of the Robertson wood screws keeping the observation deck's duck dock in ship shape.

One of the things that my dad taught me about ducks, I did actually remember. That factoid is that, if they attack you – and they will – grab the neck. It's what ducks do to each other when they have a squabble, and it's the easiest way to move them away, to a relatively defensible arm's length, from your delicate parts before they can bite you. When they lose interest in combat, you throw them as far away from you as possible and run like hell in the opposite direction. Once, I got to see his technique in action, after a neighbour's errant coonhound managed to spook a bunch of the tenants of the ol' pond.

I sure wish he had told me he was going to do that first. That's what they called "active parenting" back then, as the glorious new age of child-rearing theory provided all kinds of excuses for abandoning your tender son and his precocious/obsessive interest in machined fasteners to a harem of vicious anatidaes.

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unhonestlymirror · 1 year ago

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I am horrified by how often I see people writing, "Well, we shouldn't take Holocaust into account when talking about Israel-Palestine war." Of course we SHOULD, and that's why:

"October 7 is getting rewritten and certain social media users are an active of the campaign to erase the atrocities.

I was barely awake on October 7th when news of the atrocities that were committed by Hamas began to trinkle in, horror by horror. With sleep still in my eyes, I had hoped it was a nightmare I could erase by burying my face in pillows and returning to slumber, but alas, reality was insistent. Hamas had butchered over 1,200 people, amongst them infants, pregnant women, the handicapped, and the elderly. Even dogs were not spared.

But Hamas didn’t just murder them in cold blood, they had tortured, raped, desecrated their bodies, and took hostages. Their depravity was limitless. And they were so proud of their crimes that they used GoPro cameras to record them, later releasing the sickening spectacles to the public as a form of psychological terror. Add to that the live streams, cell phone recordings, and CCTV camera footage, and you’ll probably have the most documented massacre in history—with a reported 60,000 video clips collected.

I’ve seen some of these videos, including those not circulating quite so widely in public. They will haunt me for the rest of my life—and that falls far short than the 47 minute “film” shown to select journalists and diplomats worldwide, a number of whom broke down and/or fell ill during the screening.

But as shocking as all of this deranged butchery was — which was entirely the intention — what stunned me in the aftermath is the world’s reaction.

Putting aside disputes of land and politics, it was jarring to hear such a blatant reframing of narrative. It started with calling Hamas the “resistance” and justifying the unjustifiable. A number of BLM chapters had put out “heroic” images of Hamas terrorists descending on parachutes. I half-expected them to release action figures of Hamas fighters too. Maybe they did?

And then came the "BUTs." Sure, some folks condemned Hamas, but it was always followed by a "BUT," justifying the unjustifiable. I've been asked, ad nauseam, "What would you do in their situation?" Well, my response remains steadfast: not commit random acts of murder, torture, and kidnapping. Call me old-fashioned. (For the record I’ve called many colorful words for my stance, but oddly that was never one of them).

It was a wake-up call for many, especially those of us in the global Jewish community. Overnight, the illusion of safety shattered, much like the dreams of anyone who's binge-watched a horror series alone at night. But now we were all collectively trapped in that nightmare, and couldn’t wake up no matter how hard with pitched.

The history of the Holocaust is taught in many schools around the world. “Never forget” and “never again” are sentiments that are echoed within that curriculum. Yet, while some might scoff at the persistent advocacy for Holocaust education, insisting that it’s hitting them over the head, a nationwide survey in 2020 reveals that the under-40 crowd seems to have missed the memo. Shockingly, one in ten respondents haven’t even heard of the word “Holocaust,” let alone being aware that as many as 6 million Jews perished in it.

Further, nearly a quarter of those questioned said they believed the Holocaust was a myth, had been exaggerated or that they weren’t sure. Meanwhile in Canada, one in five young people (under 34) either hasn't heard of the Holocaust or isn't sure what it is. And in Britain, one in twenty adults flat-out deny that it ever took place. Ah, the privilege of blissful ignorance.

Most who underestimate the number of Jews killed in Holocaust have neutral or warm feelings toward Jews.

But it's not just ignorance; there's an entire industry that has been propped up and dedicated to Holocaust denial, complete with books, “movies,” and groups. To make matters worse, alarmingly, fewer Holocaust survivors are around to share their firsthand accounts and counteract the flames of denialism.

Nearly half of the 1000 people surveyed had stated that they’ve seen Holocaust denial or distortion posts on social media or elsewhere online.

I’ve always thought that denials of genocide—such as the Holocaust —were something that happened over time, with history slipping away and being re-written.

However, I never expected to be observing this in real time.

While initially the so-called “resistance” was celebrated by a subset of society, this soon turned into full-fledged denials of Hamas’ actions on Oct 7. Despite overwhelming evidence in the form of videos captured and shared by Hamas themselves and shared on Telegram channels and elsewhere, I would read and hear people claiming that they had only targeted Israeli military. Absurd claims emerged using supposedly ‘leaked’ footage where an Israeli helicopter shoots at Nova music festival goers. That video was viewed over 30 million times on X alone. The video, which was actually originally shared by the IDF on Oct 9, was showing their attacks on specific Gazan targets—certainly NOT indiscriminate bombings of music festival attendees in Israel. (Here’s a great thread that details how this piece of disinformation spread and geolocation information that further confirms that the claim is fake).

I’ve heard countless denials of the rapes of women (and men), despite overwhelming evidence in the form of physical evidence, forensics, and a number of witness testimonies. Women’s rights groups, meanwhile, remained silent—thus offering a vacuum for denialists to fill. Proponents of “me too” also stayed silent. Worse, the University of Alberta Sexual Assault Centre’s director signed an open letter calling Hamas perpetrating “sexual violence” an “unverified accusation.” It took UN Women nearly two months to issue a lukewarm condemnation of the brutal attacks. “We are alarmed by the numerous accounts of gender-based atrocities and sexual violence during those attacks,” they wrote, following a letter writing campaign urging them to speak up. Better late than never though, right?

The roughly 40 dead babies claim was debunked as a lie. At least that’s what people on social media now declare as fact, citing a Haaretz investigation.

“Haaretz investigation EXPOSES all the ISRAELI LIES from October 7th just like I predicated (sic),” reads the post of one particularly large disinformation account.

These claims persisted despite Haaretz directly addressing that post and calling it “blatant lies” and insisting that it “absolutely no basis in Haaretz’s reporting.”

The denials continued regardless of the fact that a group of 200 forensic pathologists from all over the world had confirmed that babies were indeed murdered and that some babies were found decapitated, though it was unclear whether this was done before or after death. First responders also corroborated that they witnessed beheaded infants. Regardless of decapitation, these were babies, murdered.

The forensic pathologists also confirmed that humans were executed, bound and burned alive. Israeli police have over 1,000 statements related to the attack.

When some of the hostages were released, Hamas supporters claimed that the hostages enjoyed being held by them, that they hardly wanted to leave. That this was like a pleasant vacation for them, that’s all. Like sipping piña coladas by the beach. In fact, they would state that they were more concerned about their safety in Israeli hands. They even concocted stories of love affairs between a hostage who was shot in the leg and a Hamas captor. A sick and twisted take on reality where up is down, cats are dogs, and denial is truth. They dismissed the reality that many of these hostages watched their loved ones get murdered in front of them, and still had relatives being held in captivity. The hostages were also administered Clonazepam by Hamas, a mood-enhancing tranquilizing drug, before handing them over to the Red Cross, so that they would appear “happy.”

Meanwhile, the Yale Daily News published a correction of an opinion column stating that the “allegations had not been substantiated.”

The denials go on and on, and I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a version of Holocaust denial, except this time it’s happening in real time—not years after the fact. And this time, it has a Wi-Fi connection and a social media account.

The conditions for this were ripe. Moral relativism is why just several weeks ago, Gen Z embraced Bin Laden's 'Letter to America.' It has been building up for years across college campuses, a breeding ground for ideologies that support violent means to achieve political gains.

The perceived power dynamics play a role here too. In the eyes of many, the Israelis are seen as a superpower whereas the Palestinians, and by extension Hamas, are seen as underdogs. In their view, the underdog is always right because it is the victim, and the “power” is the oppressor. So how can the oppressor be a victim?

Israelis, despite the majority of the population being Mizrahi Jews, as well as 20% Arabs (who were also victims on Oct 7), have been framed as “white colonizers,” vs the Palestinians who are seen as “POC” in the context of this conflict. Never mind that Jews, including Ashkenazi Jews, can be traced back to the land through DNA, archaeological evidence, and historical documents.

An overall distrust for media is another factor, which has resulted in individuals taking the word of random influencer accounts as gospel over traditional media outlets. According to Gallup polls, Americans’ trust in media is near a record low. Only 34% of US adults have a “great deal” or “fair amount” of confidence as of 2022. This is a major hindrance to our sensemaking abilities.

And then, of course, there’s cognitive dissonance. When a group identifies so closely with the perpetrator and they commit heinous acts, confronting that fact happens to be uncomfortable. So, in an attempt to reduce that discomfort, they rationalize or deny the evidence. This means that they accept only evidence that supports their existing beliefs, while placing unreasonable demands on the other side.

But none of these factors would have gained as much traction if it weren’t for something that didn’t exist during the Holocaust: social media. This is the engine that helps drives this real-time historical revisionism and denialism. According to 2021 data from Pew Research, over 70% of Americans get their news via social platforms. A Reuters Institute report from 2023 found that 30% of respondents use social media as the main way to get their news.

We have a society that consumes sound-bites of information, both truth and lies (as well as lies based on grains of truth).

Social media algorithms—combined with human nature—tend to amplify outrageous untruths, which spread widely. Corrections, never make it as far as the original lie. They are just a faint hum.

Throughout the Israeli-Gaza war, we’ve seen AI generated images and bots used to paint a specific narrative—for evocative, emotional effect. But technologically sophisticatication isn’t a prerequisite for painting false narratives. Many “influencers” have taken to using existing images or videos and attaching misleading headlines to them—including sharing content that captures events in Syria while presenting it as taking place in Gaza. These networks of influencers have large reach, and can turn even the most blatant lie into a revisionist truth.

Researchers for Freedom House, a non-profit human right advocacy group, found that generally at least 47 governments have used commentators to manipulate online discussions in their favor, either via humans or bots. They’ve also recruited influencers to help spread false and misleading content, and have created fake websites that mimic actual media publications. Then there’s always Russia’s propaganda arm RT, and various other publications like Al Jazeera and Quds who have direct ties to Hamas and/or other Islamic regimes.

All of this has contributed to narrative confusion, and the erasure of unspeakable acts of brutality, and the denial of the facts of October 7, right before our very eyes.

If we cannot even share a common reality, how can have any hope of resolving anything?

“Never again” is happening now."

#jews #israel palestine war #hamas attack #russia finances hamas

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cheeeeseburger · 4 months ago

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Dream girl Part 2

Next part

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who asked for a part 2, I had no intention to write one but here we are, and I might even be working on another part! Also, it is canon that Sidney Crosby knows what a finsta is. Anyway, English isn't my first language, enjoy!

It’s not funny how much he thinks about you. A small, twenty minutes interaction at a random event was enough to leave him wanting more, so much more. We’re talking wedding and six kids, more.

Your smile, your charm, your brain: you have completely ruined Sidney for any other girl, ever. His DMs are full of Instagram models and women confessing their love, but no one would ever compare to you.

It’s more than an obsession, at this point. It sounds creepy, but Sid only allows himself the occasional perusal of your social media account from his own finsta. He checked your boyfriend’s account, but there weren’t any photos of you there. This was typical rookie behaviour, trying to look as available as possible to gain attention and maybe a few hookups during away games. As much as he enjoys his privacy, if you were his, you would be plastered all over his account. But before that, he would have to make an account, or at least a public one. Wait, no. No posts. He wants to keep you to himself.

Anyway. This isn’t the point. The truth is, Sidney wants to kill his teammate. Or at least, make you realize that you’re dating an idiot. Or, even better, make you fall hopelessly in love with him.

In theory, this isn’t an easy task, as there are many obstacles in the way, like the fact that you’re too loyal to your boyfriend. Nonetheless, that doesn’t stop Sid from trying.

“Are you even old enough to be here?” Sidney asks you playfully. He’s been observing you all night, trying to catch you alone. You finally made your way to the bar. Sid had been watching your boyfriend from the corner of his eye, and he seemed busy. He was clear to make any move he wanted, even though it went against every principle in the book. You looked so good, with a top that showed off your cleavage nicely and miniskirt barely covering your ass. He wants to make you sit on his lap and raise his hand from your calf all the way to your underwear. He bets his fingers would come off soaking wet.

“Of course! We aren’t in the States, remember? This is Canada baby!” Sid follows your throat with his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter. He doesn’t miss the innuendo that you’d be too young to drink back in Pittsburgh. He notices that you’re definitely starting to get tipsy, a little bit drunk even. He also notices that he really, really likes it when you call him baby, even though he’d rather be a daddy.

Okay, the making-you-fall-in-love-with-him-game starts now.

Sid chuckles. “True that. Let me buy you a drink then.” He takes a mental picture of you to add to his collection. You look especially gorgeous tonight, but your outfit is clearly missing a necklace with the letter “S” and a big diamond your left hand. A few hickeys on your neck would also be a nice touch.

You offer him a smile that makes Sidney’s heart feel like a ball in a Plinko game. “That’s very nice, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I was just here to get some water, actually. My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I’m drunk.” He doesn’t miss the sadness in your eyes after that last comment.

“Oh really? Why not?” You sigh and Sidney wants to pick you up and comfort you until your life is nothing but sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.

“He says that I’m too needy when I’m drunk, even though I have never ever drunk enough to throw up or to even be annoying, at least I think.” You roll your eyes then add, blushing: “I also have the tendency to forget my manners and get up to dance on tables, so maybe it’s for the best.” You shouldn’t have added that last part. Now, all Sidney’s picturing is you in that exact outfit, dancing on the bar, Coyote Ugly style. It’s a wicked image, one that will keep him awake for many nights to come.

He tries to regain his composure and manages to get a sentence out: “That’s too bad. I would have liked to see you up on tables, dancing the night away. I would pay for that.” Your beautiful eyes turn as big as saucers. You flush instantly, and it’s the cutest thing he has ever seen. He likes making you blush. He wants to see you in a lingerie set that exact colour, only for him to rip it off you with his teeth.

“I wouldn’t make you pay. I’d even strip for you, if you’d ask me to.” You gasp at your own words and Sid’s forgotten how to talk. He stares at your pretty mouth, slightly open from the shock.

“I mean, if I didn’t have a boyfriend, of course! And only if you wanted to! I mean, not that you'd want to!” You seem to want to crawl under the bar from embarrassment. Sid just finds it cute.

"Sweet, you know I want to." He winks, and your cheeks are as red as a Habs jersey.

“ Well… Maybe one more drink wouldn’t hurt?”

Through the obstacles, Sid seems to be making progress. He's getting closer and closer to being your dream man. He purposely befriends the rookie, only to get closer to you. It’s a really shitty move, but he’s lost all his morals. It works, because he can now gather info from your boyfriend, and also evidence that’s he’s not good for you. He notes every time he seems him talking to another girl or even leaving his hotel room in the middle of the night.

Sidney thinks about you constantly. He replays all the interactions he has had with you in his head like a carousel. He wants to buy a subscription of you. Since he can’t, he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you call on him like a siren would to a sailor. He hears your voice, then smells the hints of jasmine in your perfume before he sees you. You’re dressed exactly like you were that night that he first met you, but unlike that time, you’re alone. Sidney gets closer to you, and you grab him by the collar and caress his cheek.

“I want you, Sidney Crosby, but I especially love you.” Then, he puts his hands on your waist while you lock yours behind his neck. He bends down to your height, and he barely has the time to savour the taste of your lips before he wakes up.

It’s always at four in the morning and he wakes up drenched in sweat, sheets all messed up and with a desire he knows he won’t be able to turn off unless he does something about it. The next morning, he goes to training and talks to the rookie, acting like he didn’t beat himself to the thought of his girlfriend professing her love to his captain.

And when he notices that you go out of your way to talk to him at events and that you always smile when your eyes meet his?

Yeah, he was one step closer to being your dream man.

#sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby #nhl imagine

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dyns33 · 15 days ago

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In every universes

I wrote this story after watching Deadpool 3, so spoilers to the few of you who still have to see the movie !

It would have been wonderful to be able to beat all the Deadpools like Wade had tragically lost NicePool in a totally unintentional and not at all pleasant way.

Unfortunately for him and sexy Loggy, the other variants were immortal like them, which explained why they all hide their faces instead of showing their beauty to the whole world.

And so, despite their great slow-motion fight to the music of the divine Madonna, all their enemies got up almost immediately.

"What do we do ? Do we talk to them ? Do we give them the dog ?" Wolverine growled.

"So, first of all, we don't give Mary Puppins to anyone ! Then, I guess they're not as smart and brilliant as me, so even if you show them your dreamy abs, they won't listen. They want money and power, promised by this bald crazy woman, so we have to cut them into small pieces to have time to leave before they regenerate."

"You could lie and say you have a ton of money and can give them more."

"That's hilarious, Logan, but how many times do I have to say I didn't lie ?!"

They probably could have been more concerned about the Deadpools surrounding them, ready to jump on them, or to take care of chasing Cassandra Nova who was soon to destroy this entire universe, then the others, but it was also important that his future best friend understood that he wasn't a liar.

It was very kind of Peter to want to save the day, by arriving with Wade's old costume, which almost suited him, but not really. Some variants seemed touched by his arrival, they also had a Peter. The others didn't give a damn.

On the other hand, Peter being a nice and intelligent guy, with the desire to reform the X Force, he had brought back some gossip. Or he had tried to bring some back, because Collusus and the X-men were busy, Vanessa was at work, Weasel hadn't answered his phone, and Al was still blind.

So, only Y/N had come, probably because she was bored.

Wade had hated Y/N from the moment he met her. He had begged and then threatened Weasel to fire her, but according to his fake friend, she was a great bartender, accountant, manager, and if she also bored him, it was perfect.

According to him, their constant arguments reminded him of how he was with Vanessa at the beginning, only less disgusting. Wade had broken Weasel's nose for saying that.

Because, really ? Him and Y/N ? Ugh. Never. No, sir. Eww. I'd rather die.

Okay, she was cute. Very beautiful even. Sometimes funny. Not as stupid as most people. Not throwing up when he took off his mask, not feeling sorry for him either. Accepting his old job as his desire to change his life. And sometimes offering him a drink, when she knew he was feeling down.

You couldn't really say they were friends. So it was weird to see her here, on this battlefield, when she wasn't a fighter.

"Y/N ! Get out of here, now !"

"Fuck you, Wade, you're not telling me what to do !"

"If you die, Weasel is going to piss me off for months ! Even if I don't kill you, it'll be another me, and he'll blame me, when honestly, that lazy bastard used to manage the bar all by himself before, he… AH ! Canada, why ?!"

"You don't threaten Y/N like that !" yelled the Deadpool who had just shot him in the foot.

"Yeah ! And don't yell at her either !"

"Why does he say we're going to kill her ? Will we ever hurt our Y/N ?"

Wade grimaced as he looked at his variants, not understanding the situation, nor why they had all put away their weapons to admire Y/N as if she were the sun and they were butterflies ready to throw themselves into this immense ball of fire to die in excruciating pain. As lost as he was, Logan still signaled for him to follow him into the subway, because it was an opportunity to move forward.

But it was dangerous to leave Peter and Y/N with all these Deadpools, even if they had just said they weren't going to hurt her. And, wait, their Y/N ? What ?

While he was trying to get his brain working, Kidpool approached her with a slow, almost timid step, while she was the rudest of them all. He looked at her without saying anything, waiting for her to try something.

If she wanted to kill Y/N with a cuddle, it would take time. Unless she had a weak heart for adorable things, like a psychopathic kid sobbing while hugging her.

The others dared to approach too, some patting her shoulders as if to check if she was real. The Samurai Deadpool said a sort of prayer in Japanese, crying like everyone else.

"Um… What's going on ?" Y/N asked, asking the question on everyone's mind.

"We all had our Y/N. The love of our life. And we all lost her…"

"Oh. Wait, the love of your… But, Vanessa ?"

"Who ?"

If Wade had bothered to ask Paradox for explanations, he would have told him that there were certain constants in all universes.

Unchangeable things, which made certain people who they were. For the Deadpools, there was being a mercenary, with a nice tight red suit, katanas and guns, a unique sense of humor. And Y/N.

There were Vanessas in some Deadpools's stories, who had loved her. But she wasn't the most important person. It was always Y/N, before or after. Always.

The problem was that she always died too.

And there was no Cable everywhere, with his time machine, so they had all suffered from this loss as if they were Spiderman, except that they had all tried to kill themselves or everyone else.

But Wade hadn't asked. First, because Paradox was an asshole, who couldn't be trusted. Then, because he had to take care of the Cassandra Nova problem quite urgently.

And finally, him and Y/N ? No, really, he didn't believe it at all. Maybe Vanessa didn't want him anymore, and she had found someone else, but he had done all that for her. The multiverse could send him all the variants, he was not going to change his heart at the end just to follow the canon.

"She seems nice." Logan commented after their magnificent sacrifice full of virility and love, watching Y/N bore members of the TVA with lots of questions. "Why do you hate her ?"

"I didn't say I hate her."

"The grimace and the grunts convinced me, it's true love. In any case, all the other you liked her. They cried as they left, demanding a hug to jump into the hole without resistance."

"They're stupid. I mean, yeah Y/N is cool. She's even great. She may insult me every time we see each other and tell me I should shut up, but she still listens to my bullshit."

"She came to help you."

"She knows my favorite songs."

"She refused to abandon you even though it was dangerous."

"She doesn't ignore my texts. Shit, I know what you're trying to do, multiverse, it's a no !" Wade growled as he got up from the bench, suggesting to Wolverine that they go get something to eat, because with his mouth full, he'd stop playing interdimensional cupid.

It could have worked if he hadn't then offered Logan to become his roommate. In addition to blinding Al. The two quickly ganged up on him on the subject of Y/N.

According to the old woman who had never heard of this barmaid, it was a sign. Because if Wade had told her about her, then she would have felt that something was up, and he had wanted to avoid that.

He tried to defend himself by saying that he wasn't talking about everyone, but Logan contradicted him almost immediately, as if he had known him forever, by showing that Wade talked about everyone, all the time, to criticize them, insult them and make sexual comments.

But if he wasn't talking about someone, then there was something wrong. Especially if he refused to make sexual comments.

"A blind person would see that he was in love. The proof is that I can see it."

"Al, shut up. Logan, stop smiling like an idiot. Now."

"Yeah, I'll smile tonight."

"Tonight ? Why tonight ?" Deadpool panicked, pulling out his gun when he didn't get an answer.

The two traitors had organized a party, to celebrate the saving of the universes and the new roommate that he already regretted, except in the morning, when he could admire Logan coming out of the bathroom shirtless.

Oddly enough, the chosen seating plan had Wade stuck between him and Y/N, who was clearly wondering what she was doing there, having never been invited before.

"We helped a lot !" Peter considered, raising his glass.

"Hmm, I still don't know how. Wade, the others were very strange, but quite nice. We could have swapped, kept them all and sent you to this Vortex thing."

"Haha, so funny, I would have missed you very quickly."

"Yeah, maybe." Y/N mumbled, rolling her eyes before drinking her beer.

Faced with this almost confession of affection, Wade was lost for words. It took Logan giving him a shoulder nudge, pushing him a little towards her, to bring him out of his torpor.

If he agreed to be honest, maybe Wade liked Y/N. No, maybe he had a crush from their first meeting. Maybe he was in love, he would have wanted more.

But after Vanessa, he didn't feel capable of it. He didn't want to suffer again, if she rejected him right away, then if she dumped him. And if she died.

If he believed in the multiverse and its variants, she might die if they were together. The only reason he had a Y/N in his world was probably because he had refused to accept these feelings.

So telling her the truth was losing her soon, condemning her to certain death.

"Your dog loves me a lot." Y/N said, bringing him back to reality, where Dogpool was staring at her with shining eyes. "I had thirty marriage proposals while you were fighting, the Ladypool kissed me, then she fought with the ones who wanted to kiss me, and the cowboy gave me his hat."

"He'll borrow the Spider Cowboy's. They'll go camping together in the mountains."

"Why were they all crying ?"

"Uh, allegies. It's a Deadpool thing, we're allergic to annoying girls, it makes us sneeze and cry."

"I see. You have to take pills then."

"All the time, as soon as I know I'm going to be in the same room as you, otherwise it would be hell. I'd have tears and snot in my mask, it would be impossible to fight. And to clean, can you imagine ?"

"That would be terrible…" she snickered before losing her sweet smile. "You know, it's okay if they were allergic and you're not. I understand. I'm totally allergic to you but I'll find some pills."

Even though the discussions continued around the table, Wade could see out of the corner of his eye the others nodding or trying to communicate with their eyes, to encourage him to answer the right thing.

They didn't realize what they were asking him.

"… Even if I was allergic, it would be very dangerous. Pills are a good idea."

"… Okay. It's too bad, but okay."

"It's better this way. To have a long life."

"What's the point if it's empty ?"

It was late, so Y/N excused herself by saying that she had to go home, not giving him time to react to what she had just said.

Sitting as Peter walked her to the door, he was kicked by Logan. The hairy idiot on his right had had relationships too, before losing everything, and in multiple universes. While he was immortal. Even if Vanessa hadn't broken his heart, she would have died one day while he would have continued to live.

No variant had said how or when they had lost their Y/N. Some had been able to spend years with theirs, happy, important years.

So, damn it, Wade had refused to listen to the TVA about the destruction of his world, he wasn't going to listen to them about his private life either.

"Finally !" Al shouted as he ran down the hall, up the stairs, then down the street, until he caught up with Y/N.

She was crying. Even though she tried to hide it by wiping herself as soon as she realized it was him.

"Allergic to dumb guys ?"

"It seems so."

"I heard that to cure an allergy, you have to spend time with the problem, to get used to it. Be super close, often, and then either it kills you or you stop peeing out your nose."

"Super close how ?"

"Oh, as close as possible. Like, cuddling, swapping saliva, groping, and even sex. Lots of sex, with feelings added, which is the worst STD, but this time it's recommended, and that's good, because I know a dumb but super cool and sexy guy who is also allergic, could you help each other out ?"

"It's Logan I hope."

"… I knew he had to cover up before you got on the subway, it's the abs, right ? You all went crazy over his abs, and I can't even blame you, I dream about it at night and think about it in the shower."

"Well, if he's not available, I'll settle for you then."

"Actually, I was talking about Colossus."

Wade was often asked what could shut him up. He wasn't called the Merc with a Mouth for nothing. Overall, the ways to stop him were in order, kill him, sew his mouth shut, cut his vocal cords, introduce him to Taylor Swift or Spiderman, and have the girl he liked kiss him.

Maybe he tried to talk every time she stopped to breathe again, which allowed him to get his brain working, but as soon as she started devouring his lips again, there was only Y/N.

It was normal that the other Deadpools were so jealous. And Wade was going to do everything not to lose her, unlike them. They would stay together, as long as possible, and maybe longer since he was lucky enough to have met Cable.

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