#her heart is probably in the right place and even after someone calling her out that she's hurting Lada she still goes extra mile
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I feel like this whole thing will finally blow up in Earn's face spectacularly because that's the only way she will learn
it's all fun and games now until Lada finally breaks - and she will
#tsou#the secret of us#ladaearn#the secret of us the series#in the first episode Earn said that everyone thinks she's childish#I thought that's because of her chirpy upbringing but she IS childish#her heart is probably in the right place and even after someone calling her out that she's hurting Lada she still goes extra mile#and now with them back sleeping together again Earn will think that they can finally get back together soon perhaps#but she also involve Engfah WITHOUT informing her about the whole mess#and how awful she was when she dumped lada even though she had her reasons too#and when hell finally breaks loose I feel like everyone will abandon her#that's when she's forced to face everything herself and look at the reality#of how much damage she's done
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Royal Pardon
Charles Leclerc x Arthurâs best friend!Reader
Summary: Charles isnât a violent man at heart, but when he saves you from being harassed while celebrating his Monaco win, he quickly realizes that thereâs not a single line he wouldnât cross if it means keeping you safe
Warnings: attempted sexual assault, violence, and injury
Note: a break from your regularly scheduled October programming because Charles just won the United States GP and that calls for a celebration
The music pulses through the club, a steady, hypnotic beat that thrums in Charlesâ chest. Heâs never felt like this â untouchable, invincible â as if tonight could stretch on forever, an endless loop of victory and laughter.
Heâs just won Monaco.
Monaco. His Monaco.
The thought alone makes him smile, a small, private thing that he hides behind the rim of his champagne flute.
Around him, the crowd swirls in a blur of lights and shadows, everyone shouting their congratulations over the music, pulling him into hugs and clapping him on the back. Arthur is here somewhere, of course, dragging you along because where else would you be? The two of you are like shadows, inseparable since childhood.
Charles can still see you, just barely, out of the corner of his eye, chatting with a couple of Arthurâs friends near the bar. Youâre laughing, a sound that somehow cuts through the noise and settles in the back of his mind. Itâs a good sound, one that feels familiar, like home.
âCharles, mate!â A voice shouts, pulling him back. Max is there, leaning in with a grin thatâs all teeth, like heâs just as buzzed on adrenaline as Charles is. âI swear, youâre going to be insufferable after this. Monaco, finally!â
Charles laughs, shaking his head, though the truth is he probably will be insufferable. But can anyone blame him? Heâs worked so damn hard for this, pushing through every setback, every disappointment. And now, here he is, celebrating the win of his career in the only place that really matters.
Heâs about to respond when someone else pulls him into a hug, a flurry of excitement and congratulations that Charles barely processes. He doesnât mind, though. Tonight, it feels like nothing can touch him, like nothing could ever bring him down from this high.
But then, something shifts. Itâs subtle at first, just an itch at the back of his mind, a sense that something isnât right. He glances over to where you and Arthur were standing, but Arthur is gone, nowhere to be seen. And you ⌠youâre not laughing anymore.
Charlesâ stomach twists. Youâre cornered against the bar now, a man leaning in too close, too aggressive. Charles canât see your face clearly through the throng of people, but the way youâre holding yourself, tense and small, tells him everything he needs to know.
His blood turns to ice, freezing the euphoria in his veins. He canât hear what the man is saying, but it doesnât matter. The way the manâs hand snakes around your waist, the way you try to push him off with trembling hands â Charlesâ vision goes red.
Heâs moving before he can think, pushing through the crowd with a single-minded focus. The people congratulating him moments ago scatter as he brushes past them, their laughter and cheers fading into the background noise.
âHey!â Charlesâ voice cuts through the music, sharp and commanding. The man doesnât even turn at first, but you do, your eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. Charles feels something break inside him at the sight, but he channels it into a fury that propels him forward.
When the man finally notices Charles, itâs too late. Charles is on him, grabbing the manâs shoulder and yanking him away from you with a force that sends the man stumbling backward. âGet the fuck away from her,â Charles snarls, every syllable dripping with venom.
The man barely has time to react before Charles slams him against the wall, the impact rattling the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. Charlesâ forearm presses against the manâs throat, cutting off whatever protest he might have had.
âCharles, stop!â You gasp, your voice choked with a mix of fear and something else, something that twists the knife already lodged in Charlesâ chest. He doesnât stop, though. Canât stop. The image of the manâs hands on you is burned into his mind, and all he can think about is making him pay, making him hurt.
The man struggles, clawing at Charlesâ arm, but itâs useless. Charles is stronger, fueled by a rage thatâs been simmering just beneath the surface for too long. The manâs face turns red, then purple, and still, Charles doesnât let up. His grip tightens, and he leans in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.
âIf you ever so much as look at her again, Iâll fucking kill you.â
The words hang in the air, heavy and deadly serious. The manâs eyes widen, a flash of genuine fear crossing his face, but Charles doesnât care. He wants him to be scared. Wants him to know that thereâs no escaping this, no escaping the consequences of what heâs done.
âCharles, please!â Your voice breaks through the haze of anger, and itâs only then that Charles realizes how close youâve gotten. Youâre right there, your hand on his arm, tugging gently, desperately trying to pull him away.
He looks at you then, really looks at you, and sees the tears streaming down your face, the fear etched into your features. Itâs like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, shocking him back to reality. The club, the music, the people â all of it comes rushing back in a disorienting wave.
Charles blinks, his grip on the man loosening just enough for the man to gasp for air. Heâs still furious, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but heâs no longer blind with it. He takes a breath, then another, trying to regain some semblance of control.
âYouâre lucky sheâs here,â Charles says quietly, his voice barely more than a growl. He shoves the man away from him, watching with cold satisfaction as he stumbles and nearly falls to the floor.
The man doesnât stick around. He scrambles to his feet and disappears into the crowd, no doubt eager to get as far away from Charles as possible. Good. Charles hopes he never sees the man again, because heâs not sure heâll be able to stop himself if he does.
For a moment, Charles just stands there, his chest heaving with the effort of reining in his emotions. The crowd has started to notice the commotion, a few curious onlookers craning their necks to see whatâs going on. But none of that matters. None of them matter.
All that matters is you.
Charles turns to you, his expression softening as he takes in your tear-streaked face. âAre you okay?â His voice is gentler now, full of concern that wasnât there a moment ago.
You nod, but itâs a shaky, uncertain thing. âI-Iâm fine,â you manage, though itâs clear youâre anything but. You look like youâre about to collapse, your legs barely holding you up.
Without thinking, Charles steps closer and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You donât resist, you just sink into him, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if heâs the only thing keeping you upright. And maybe he is.
âItâs okay,â Charles murmurs, his voice low and soothing. âYouâre safe now. Iâm here.â He holds you tighter, as if he can shield you from the world, from everything that just happened. And for a moment, it feels like he can. Like nothing bad can touch you as long as youâre in his arms.
You donât say anything, just press your face into his chest, your breath hitching with the remnants of your tears. Charles presses his lips to the top of your head, a gesture that feels both instinctive and impossibly intimate. Heâs never held you like this before, never been this close, but it feels right.
The music still pounds in the background, the lights still flash in a dizzying array of colors, but itâs all distant now, muted. The only thing that matters is you, and making sure youâre okay.
Charles pulls back just enough to look down at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. âWhereâs Arthur?â He asks, his voice still soft but edged with a protective concern.
âI-I donât know,â you admit, your voice small. âHe was here a minute ago, and then âŚâ Your words trail off, and Charles doesnât need you to finish the sentence to know what happened next.
He clenches his jaw, trying to keep his anger in check. Arthur should have been here, should have been looking out for you, but he isnât. Charles isnât sure where his brother is right now, but heâll deal with that later. For now, he needs to focus on you.
âItâs okay,â he says again, though the words feel inadequate. âYouâre with me now. No oneâs going to hurt you.â
You nod again, but this time itâs a little steadier, a little more certain. âThank you,â you whisper, the words barely audible over the music.
Charles shakes his head. âYou donât need to thank me,â he says, his voice rougher than he intends. âIâll always protect you. Always.â
The weight of those words hangs between you, a promise that feels more real than anything else in this moment. Charles knows, without a doubt, that he means it. Heâll protect you, no matter what. Even if it means facing down every threat, every danger, with the same ferocity he showed tonight.
He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the lingering anger. The night isnât over yet, but heâs not sure how much longer he can stand to be here, in this place that suddenly feels too crowded, too loud, too full of people who didnât notice, didnât care. Charlesâ grip tightens on your shoulders as he scans the room, trying to spot Arthur in the sea of faces. But itâs a lost cause â the club is packed, and he knows Arthur could be anywhere.
âCome on,â Charles says, his voice a bit steadier now. âLetâs get out of here.â
You donât argue, just nod and let him guide you through the crowd. The bodies pressing in around you both feel suffocating, the music that once electrified the night now grating on Charlesâ nerves. He keeps a firm hold on your hand, as if letting go might mean losing you to the chaos.
As you near the exit, the cool night air becomes a welcome relief, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat inside. The streets of Monaco are quieter now, the party shifting indoors as the night grows late. Charles doesnât stop moving until youâre both far enough from the club that the noise fades into a dull hum, barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.
He finally releases your hand, only to immediately wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Youâre shivering, whether from the cold or the shock, Charles isnât sure. Either way, he holds you tighter, wishing he could do more, say more.
But the words donât come easily. They never have. So instead, he just walks with you, slowly, allowing the night air to calm the both of you. You lean into him, and he can feel the tension gradually leaving your body, though you still seem a little too fragile, too breakable.
Charles isnât sure how long you walk like that, side by side in the near silence, before you finally speak.
âCharles, I âŚâ Your voice is hesitant, unsure. âI donât know what I wouldâve done if you hadnât been there.â
He stops walking, turning to face you, his expression serious. âYou donât have to think about that,â he says, his voice firm. âI was there. And I always will be.â
You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for something â reassurance, perhaps, or maybe just understanding. âBut what if next time-â
âThere wonât be a next time.â Charles cuts you off, his voice harder than he intends. He takes a breath, softening his tone. âI wonât let there be a next time.â
He can see the worry still etched on your face, the remnants of fear that havenât quite faded. He wishes he could take it all away, erase the memory of that man and the way he made you feel. But he knows he canât. All he can do is be there, to protect you, to make sure you know that youâre not alone.
âYouâre safe,â he repeats, quieter now, but with no less conviction. âAs long as Iâm here, youâre safe.â
You hold his gaze for a long moment, and he wonders what youâre thinking, whatâs going on behind those eyes that have always been so easy for him to read. Eventually, you nod, and some of the tension in your posture seems to melt away.
âOkay,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper. âOkay.â
Charles nods too, though a part of him still feels on edge, like the danger hasnât completely passed. But he pushes that feeling down, focusing instead on you, on the fact that youâre here with him, and thatâs all that matters right now.
âLetâs go,â he says again, but this time, his voice is softer, more gentle. He takes your hand again, lacing his fingers with yours, and starts walking, leading you away from the club, from the noise and the memories that he hopes youâll never have to revisit.
As you walk, the tension between you both begins to ease. The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of the sea, and for the first time in what feels like hours, Charles allows himself to breathe.
He glances over at you, your profile illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. You look calmer now, more like yourself, though thereâs still a shadow of what happened lingering in your eyes. Charlesâ heart aches at the sight, at the knowledge that he couldnât protect you from that, even if he was there to stop it from getting worse.
But he doesnât say any of that. Instead, he just keeps walking, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles, a silent reassurance that heâs here, and heâs not going anywhere.
Eventually, you reach the familiar streets that lead back to your apartment. The night is quiet now, the revelry of earlier giving way to the peaceful stillness of a city thatâs finally starting to sleep.
When you reach your building, you both stop, lingering on the sidewalk as if neither of you wants the night to end just yet. Charles knows he should say something, anything, but the words are stuck in his throat, too heavy and too complicated to untangle.
Youâre the one who breaks the silence, your voice soft but clear. âThank you. For everything.â
He shakes his head. âYou donât need to thank me,â he says, echoing his earlier words. âI meant what I said â Iâll always protect you.â
Thereâs a pause, a beat of silence that stretches on just long enough to make Charles wonder if youâre going to say something more. But you donât. Instead, you step closer and, without warning, wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.
Charles is momentarily stunned, his breath catching in his throat as he processes the warmth of your embrace, the way you cling to him like heâs your anchor in a storm. He hesitates for only a second before his arms come up around you, holding you just as tightly, if not more.
The hug lasts longer than it probably should, but neither of you seems to want to let go. When you finally do, you pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his with a softness that makes his chest tighten.
âGoodnight, Charlie,â you say, your voice barely more than a whisper.
âGoodnight,â he replies, his voice equally soft, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile moment between you.
You give him one last, lingering look before turning and heading into your building, the door closing softly behind you. Charles stands there for a moment, staring at the door, as if willing it to open again, as if hoping you might come back out and say something more.
But you donât, and eventually, Charles turns and starts walking back the way you came, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions heâs not sure how to deal with.
The night is still, the only sound the distant crash of the waves against the rocks. Charles lets the quiet seep into him, trying to find some semblance of calm, but itâs difficult. The image of you, scared and vulnerable, keeps flashing through his mind, a constant reminder of how close you came to being hurt.
He knows he should feel relief â that youâre safe, that the night ended without further incident. But instead, all he feels is a gnawing sense of guilt, of not having been there sooner, of not being able to protect you from everything.
Charles clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he walks. He doesnât want to think about what could have happened if he hadnât been there, doesnât want to imagine the fear and pain you might have endured.
But he canât stop the thoughts from coming, canât shake the anger that simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.
As he rounds the corner to his own street, Charles makes a silent vow to himself. Heâll be more vigilant, more careful. He wonât let anyone hurt you ever again. Heâll be there, always, to protect you, no matter what.
And if anyone tries to come between you and your safety again, well ⌠Charles isnât sure heâll be able to hold back next time.
He reaches his apartment, but he doesnât go inside right away. Instead, he stands outside, staring up at the stars barely visible above the city lights, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.
Eventually, he takes a deep breath and turns to unlock his door, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him with a quiet click. The apartment is dark and silent, but it doesnât feel like home tonight. It feels empty, hollow, as if something is missing.
And Charles knows exactly what that something is.
As he heads to bed, his thoughts are still on you â on the way you looked at him tonight, on the way you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. And somewhere, deep down, Charles knows that youâre more than just Arthurâs best friend to him.
But heâs not ready to confront that just yet. Not tonight.
So he pushes the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the promise he made to himself: to always be there for you, to protect you, no matter what.
Itâs a promise he intends to keep.
***
The morning sun stretches over Monaco, its golden rays catching on the waves that lap against the harbor. The city is just beginning to stir, and for a moment, everything feels like it should: calm, peaceful, normal. But as Charles hits his stride on his morning run, his mind is anything but calm.
The events of last night replay in his head on a loop, the image of you â shaken, scared, fighting back tears â burned into his memory. Every step he takes feels heavier, weighted down by the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Heâs tried to push it down, to focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement, but itâs no use. The rage is still there, as fresh and raw as it was the moment he saw you in that club.
Charles turns a corner, heading down toward the harbor where the yachts bob gently in the water. The morning air is crisp, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers in his chest. He needs to clear his head, to shake off the lingering sense of helplessness that clings to him like a shadow.
But then he sees him.
The man is walking casually along the harbor, hands in his pockets, his face a picture of smug indifference. He looks like any other tourist enjoying a morning stroll, not like someone who was grabbing you, hurting you, just hours ago.
Charles stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, he thinks heâs imagining it, that his mind is playing tricks on him. But no, itâs him. The same face, the same sneer that Charles wanted to wipe off with his fist last night.
Something snaps inside Charles. The anger heâs been trying to control, trying to bury, erupts like a dam breaking, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His vision narrows, locking onto the man who dared to touch you, who thought he could get away with it.
Without thinking, Charles changes direction, his strides long and purposeful as he closes the distance between them. The man doesnât notice him at first, too absorbed in whatever thoughts a man like him could have. But then, as Charles gets closer, something makes the man glance over his shoulder.
His reaction is immediate. The smug look falters, replaced by a flicker of recognition, then quickly by a lazy grin that only fuels Charlesâ rage.
âWell, well,â the man drawls, stopping to face Charles, clearly not sensing the danger. âIf it isnât the big hero himself. Whatâs the matter, Leclerc? Didnât get enough attention last night?â
Charles doesnât answer, his jaw clenched so tightly he can feel his teeth grind together. Heâs close enough now to smell the lingering stench of alcohol on the manâs breath, the same breath that spewed vile words at you.
The man chuckles, a sound that grates on Charlesâ nerves like nails on a chalkboard. âYou know, she had it coming,â he says, his tone almost conversational. âThe way she was dressed, the way she looked at me â what did she expect?â
Thatâs all it takes. The words cut through Charles like a knife, sharp and searing, and before he knows what heâs doing, heâs grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, shoving him back against the railing of the harbor.
âWhat did you say?â Charlesâ voice is low, dangerous, barely more than a growl. His knuckles are white where they grip the manâs shirt, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.
The manâs grin only widens, unfazed by the fury in Charlesâ eyes. âYou heard me,â he sneers. âAnd you know what? Thereâs nothing you can do about it. Weâre in public, Leclerc. Youâre a famous guy â canât have your precious image tarnished, can you?â
Charlesâ lips curl into a smile, but itâs not the kind that reaches his eyes. Itâs cold, calculated, the kind of smile that sends a chill down the spine. âYou think I care about that?â He asks, his voice dangerously calm.
The manâs bravado falters just a bit, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but he doesnât back down. âYeah, I do. Youâre not gonna do anything. Not here, not in front of all these people.â
Charles laughs, but thereâs no humor in it, just a bitter edge that makes the man shift uncomfortably. âYou really donât get it, do you?â Charles says, his voice softening into something almost pitying. âThis is Monaco. And Iâm Charles Leclerc.â
The manâs face pales slightly, but he still tries to hold his ground. âSo what? You think being a driver gives you a free pass to do whatever you want?â
Charlesâ smile widens, though thereâs nothing friendly about it. âExactly.â
Before the man can react, Charles yanks him away from the railing, dragging him along the harbor. The man stumbles, trying to pull away, but Charlesâ grip is ironclad, unyielding. The few people who are out this early watch with interest, some even clapping or calling out congratulations as they recognize Charles.
âHey, what the hell?â The man protests, his voice rising in panic as he struggles against Charlesâ hold. âLet go of me!â
Charles doesnât respond, his eyes focused straight ahead as he forces the man to walk, his grip tightening whenever he feels him start to resist. The manâs attempts to free himself are pathetic, laughable even, compared to the strength Charles has built up over years of training, of pushing his body to the limits.
As they pass by a group of people, one of them cheers, âThatâs the way, Charles! Show him whoâs boss!â
The man tries to appeal to the onlookers, his voice frantic. âSomeone stop him! Heâs crazy!â
But no one moves to help. They just watch, some amused, others indifferent, as Charles continues to drag the man through the streets of Monaco like heâs nothing more than a piece of trash that needs to be disposed of.
âWhere are you taking me?â The man demands, his voice trembling now as fear starts to seep in. âYou canât do this! Iâll-Iâll call the police!â
Charlesâ laugh is cold and devoid of any warmth. âGo ahead,â he says, not slowing down for a second. âTell them Charles Leclerc is dealing with a problem. See how far that gets you.â
The manâs protests grow weaker, his struggles more desperate, but itâs clear he knows thereâs no escaping this. Charles is too strong, too determined, and the reality of his situation is starting to sink in.
The two of them reach a more secluded part of the harbor, where the buildings are fewer and the noise of the city fades into the background. Thereâs no one around to witness whatâs about to happen, no one to hear the manâs cries for help.
Charles comes to a stop in a narrow alleyway, shoving the man against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him. He leans in close, his face inches from the manâs, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.
âYou made a mistake last night,â Charles says, his tone icy. âYou thought you could get away with it because you were in a crowded club, because she was alone. You thought no one would stop you.â
The manâs eyes are wide with fear now, all traces of his earlier arrogance gone. âI-I didnât mean-â
âBut you did,â Charles cuts him off, his voice like steel. âYou meant every word, every touch, every threat. And now, youâre going to pay for it.â
The man tries to push Charles away, his movements frantic, but Charles is relentless. He grabs the man by the throat, pinning him against the wall, his grip just tight enough to make him understand how serious this is.
âYou think I canât do anything to you because weâre in public?â Charles hisses, his breath hot against the manâs ear. âYouâre wrong. In Monaco, I can do whatever I want. And no one will stop me.â
The manâs hands claw at Charlesâ arm, trying to pry his fingers away from his throat, but itâs useless. Charles is too strong, too focused, his anger giving him a surge of power that the man canât hope to match.
Charles leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. âYou hurt someone I care about. Someone Iâve known my whole life. And for that, Iâm going to make sure you never forget what happens when you cross me.â
The manâs breath comes in short, panicked gasps as he realizes the gravity of his situation. He tries to speak, to beg for mercy, but Charles isnât interested in hearing his excuses.
âPlease âŚâ the man finally manages to choke out, his voice barely a whisper. âI-Iâm sorry âŚâ
Charlesâ eyes narrow, his grip tightening for a moment before he abruptly lets go, letting the man collapse to the ground in a heap. The man gasps for air, his hands trembling as he scrambles to his feet, his eyes wide with fear.
But Charles isnât done. He grabs the man by the collar, dragging him deeper into the alley, where the shadows swallow them both. The manâs struggles are weak now, more out of instinct than any real hope of escape.
âPeople like you,â Charles says, his voice low and menacing, âthink you can do whatever you want. But hereâs the truth: youâre nothing. Just another coward who preys on the vulnerable. And cowards like you donât get to walk away.â
The alley is cold and dark, the early morning light barely reaching the grimy corners where Charles drags the man like a lifeless doll. The sounds of Monaco are distant now, just a low hum that fades into the background. The only noise that matters is the ragged breathing of the man at Charlesâ mercy, and the echo of their footsteps on the uneven pavement.
Charles stops abruptly, his grip still tight on the manâs collar. He looks around, taking in the silence, the isolation. This place, this forgotten corner of the city, is perfect. No one will find them here. No one will hear what happens next.
He shoves the man against the wall again, harder this time, the force of it knocking the breath out of him. The man lets out a choked gasp, his eyes wide with fear, the bravado from earlier completely gone.
âPlease,â he stammers, his voice trembling. âIâm sorry, okay? I didnât mean-â
Charles cuts him off with a sharp punch to the gut, and the man doubles over, wheezing. âDonât bother,â Charles says coldly. âYouâre not sorry. Youâre just scared. Thereâs a difference.â
The man tries to straighten up, but Charles doesnât give him the chance. He lands another punch, this time to the manâs jaw, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. The manâs head snaps to the side, blood already beginning to trickle from his split lip.
âYou like hurting people, donât you?â Charles asks, his voice calm, almost conversational as he paces in front of the man. âThatâs what you were doing last night, right? You saw her and you thought you could do whatever you wanted.â
The man groans, trying to push himself up from the ground where heâs fallen, but Charles is on him in an instant, his knee pressing into the manâs chest, pinning him down.
âYou thought she was alone,â Charles continues, his voice still eerily calm as he looks down at the man struggling beneath him. âYou thought no one would stop you.â
He leans in closer, his knee digging into the manâs ribs, making it harder for him to breathe. âBut she wasnât alone. And now, youâre going to pay for what you did.â
The man tries to shake his head, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. âIâm sorry,â he gasps out, his voice barely above a whisper. âI didnât know-â
Another punch, this one to the side of the manâs face, silences him. Charles doesnât care about his excuses, his lies. All he cares about is making sure this man understands the pain, the fear that you felt last night.
He grabs the man by the hair, forcing his head up so their eyes meet. The manâs face is already swelling, bruises blossoming under his skin like dark flowers. âYou think this is bad?â Charles asks, his voice low, dangerous. âThis is nothing compared to what you deserve.â
The man whimpers, his hands weakly trying to push Charles away, but itâs no use. Charles is relentless, his grip like iron as he drags the man up and slams him back against the wall.
âYou like to take what you want, donât you?â Charles says, his breath hot against the manâs ear. âWell, letâs see how you like it when someone takes something from you.â
Without waiting for a response, Charles delivers a brutal kick to the manâs knee, and the sickening sound of bone cracking echoes in the alley. The man screams, a high, desperate sound that only fuels Charlesâ anger.
He watches dispassionately as the man crumples to the ground, clutching his leg, his face contorted in agony. âHurts, doesnât it?â Charles asks, his voice devoid of any sympathy. âNow imagine how she felt. Imagine how scared she was, how helpless.â
The man tries to crawl away, his movements sluggish, hindered by the pain, but Charles isnât done. He grabs the man by the ankle, dragging him back, his face set in grim determination.
âYouâre not going anywhere,â Charles says, his voice flat, emotionless. âNot until Iâm finished.â
He pulls the man up, slamming him into the wall again, his grip never loosening. The manâs head lolls to the side, blood dripping from his nose, his mouth, but Charles doesnât care. He wonât stop until the man feels every bit of the fear and pain he inflicted on you.
âYou think you can just walk away from this?â Charles asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper, but thereâs a dangerous edge to it that makes the manâs eyes widen in fear. âYou think you can just go back to your life, like nothing happened?â
The man shakes his head weakly, but Charles doesnât believe him. He knows men like this, cowards who prey on the vulnerable, who think theyâre invincible because theyâve never had to face the consequences of their actions.
âWrong,â Charles says, his voice hard, unyielding. âYouâre not walking away from this. Not ever.â
He lands another punch, this one to the manâs ribs, and the man gasps, the air knocked out of him. Charles steps back for a moment, watching as the man collapses to the ground, coughing, wheezing, barely conscious.
âLook at you,â Charles says, his voice filled with contempt as he circles the man like a predator. âPathetic. All that confidence, all that arrogance â gone. Now youâre just a scared little boy, begging for mercy.â
The manâs eyes flutter open, bloodshot and filled with pain. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a low, pitiful moan. Charles crouches down beside him, his eyes cold, calculating.
âDid you really think you could get away with it?â Charles asks, his voice soft, almost gentle, but thereâs a cruel undertone that makes the man flinch. âDid you think no one would care? That no one would come for you?â
The man doesnât answer, his body trembling, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Charles watches him for a moment, his anger still simmering, but thereâs a part of him â a small part â that feels a twisted sense of satisfaction. This man, this coward, is finally paying for what he did.
But itâs not enough. Not yet.
Charles reaches down, grabbing the man by the throat, his fingers digging into the bruised flesh. The manâs eyes go wide, panic setting in as he struggles to breathe, his hands weakly clawing at Charlesâ arm.
âYouâre not going to forget this,â Charles says, his voice low, dangerous. âEvery time you look in the mirror, every time you see those scars, youâre going to remember what happens when you cross me. When you hurt someone I care about.â
The man gurgles, his eyes rolling back in his head, his body going limp in Charlesâ grasp. For a moment, Charles considers finishing it, squeezing the life out of the man until thereâs nothing left. But then he releases his grip, letting the man collapse to the ground, gasping for air.
The man barely has the strength to lift his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. âYou ⌠you canât ⌠do this,â he wheezes, his voice weak, barely audible. âIâll ⌠have you arrested ⌠for attempted murder âŚâ
Charles stares down at him, a cold, humorless smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down the manâs spine. âGo ahead,â he says, his voice dripping with contempt. âTry it. See how far you get.â
The manâs eyes flutter closed, his body trembling uncontrollably as the reality of his situation sets in. Heâs helpless, broken, barely clinging to consciousness. And Charles knows that the manâs threats are empty, born out of desperation, a final attempt to grasp at some semblance of control.
âYouâre nothing,â Charles says, his voice cold, final. âNo one is going to believe you. Not after what you did. Not after what Iâve done to you.â
The manâs breath comes in short, shallow gasps, his body shuddering with pain and exhaustion. Charles watches him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he finally stands up, looking down at the broken, bloodied man at his feet.
âConsider this a warning,â Charles says, his voice low, menacing. âStay away from her. Stay away from Monaco. If I ever see you again, I wonât stop next time. I wonât show mercy.â
The man doesnât respond, barely clinging to consciousness, his body slumped against the wall like a discarded puppet. Charles takes one last look at him, his eyes cold, before he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing in the silent alley.
As he steps out into the morning light, the anger that had consumed him begins to fade, replaced by a cold, detached calm. He knows what heâs done, knows that heâs crossed a line that most people wouldnât dare to. But he doesnât care. He did what he had to do, what you needed him to do.
And heâd do it again in a heartbeat.
***
The atmosphere in the police station is tense, a quiet hum of activity threading through the open space. Officers move about, their conversations muted, eyes occasionally flicking toward the door where Charles Leclerc is expected to enter any moment. Thereâs a palpable discomfort in the air, a mix of respect and unease. No one wants to be the one to arrest Charles Leclerc. And yet, protocol demands his presence.
When Charles finally walks in, the room seems to still. Heads turn, eyes widen slightly. Heâs dressed casually â sweatpants, a loose-fitting t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Despite the nonchalance of his appearance, thereâs an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, a hardness in his eyes that wasnât there before.
The desk sergeant, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a lined face, stands up hastily. âMonsieur Leclerc,â he begins, his tone overly formal, almost reverent. âThank you for coming in on such short notice. Weâre, uh ⌠weâre very sorry about this.â
Charles offers a curt nod, his expression unreadable. âWhatâs this about?â He asks, even though he already knows.
The sergeant hesitates, glancing around nervously. âWe, uh, received a complaint this morning,â he explains, his voice wavering slightly. âFrom a ⌠an individual who claims that you assaulted him.â
Charlesâ lips twitch into something resembling a smile, though thereâs no warmth in it. âHeâs not wrong,â he says, his voice low, almost a growl. âI did.â
The sergeantâs eyes widen slightly, and thereâs a nervous shifting among the other officers in the room. This isnât how these things usually go. âMonsieur Leclerc,â the sergeant begins again, more carefully this time, âwe understand that this man may have ⌠done something to provoke you. But we have to follow protocol. We need to ask you some questions.â
Charles crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly as he regards the sergeant with a cold, detached stare. âProtocol,â he repeats, his voice dripping with disdain. âFine. Ask your questions.â
The sergeant shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat. âDid you, uh, did you physically assault the complainant?â He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
âYes.â
Thereâs a collective intake of breath from the officers around them, as if they canât quite believe what theyâre hearing. The sergeant blinks, clearly taken aback by Charlesâ bluntness. âAnd ⌠do you regret it?â
Charles laughs then, a dark, humorless sound that sends a shiver down the spines of everyone in the room. âRegret?â He echoes, shaking his head. âNo, I donât regret it. In fact, Iâd do it again.â
The sergeantâs face pales, and he looks around as if searching for some way out of this conversation. âMonsieur Leclerc,â he begins again, his voice trembling slightly, âI donât think you understand the situation. Youâve just admitted to a serious crime. We ⌠we canât just let you go.â
Charlesâ expression hardens, his jaw clenching. âYes, you can,â he says, his voice cold, unyielding. âAnd you will.â
The sergeant opens his mouth to protest, but before he can get a word out, the door to the station bursts open, and the man from the alley stumbles in. His face is still bruised, his movements stiff and pained. But thereâs a look of triumph in his eyes as he spots Charles standing there.
âThere he is!â The man shouts, pointing a shaky finger at Charles. âThatâs him! Thatâs the bastard who tried to kill me!â
Charles turns slowly to face the man, his expression unreadable. Thereâs a moment of silence, the air thick with tension. The man, emboldened by the presence of the police, takes a step closer, his voice rising with every word. âYou think you can just walk away from this, Leclerc? You think youâre untouchable? Iâm going to see you rot in prison for what you did!â
Charles doesnât respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The man falters slightly, confused by the lack of reaction. Charles taps the screen a few times, then puts it on speaker.
âWhat are you doing?â The man sneers, though thereâs a hint of uncertainty in his voice. âCalling your lawyer? Thatâs not going to save you.â
Charles doesnât bother to reply. The phone rings once, twice, before a familiar voice answers on the other end.
âCharles,â comes the smooth, authoritative voice of Prince Albert of Monaco. âTo what do I owe the pleasure?â
Charles doesnât take his eyes off the man as he responds. âYour Highness, Iâm at the police station. Thereâs a man here trying to press charges against me for something I did last night.â
Thereâs a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then Prince Albertâs voice, calm and steady, fills the room through the speakerphone. âI see. And what exactly did you do, Charles?â
Charlesâ eyes narrow as he stares down the man, who is now looking increasingly nervous. âI made sure he understands that there are consequences for hurting people I care about,â Charles says, his voice low, menacing. âI made sure he knows that no one lays a hand on her without answering to me.â
The silence in the station is deafening. Every officer in the room is holding their breath, waiting to see what happens next. The manâs face drains of color as he realizes whatâs happening, who Charles is talking to.
Prince Albertâs voice is measured, careful. âAnd you believe this was necessary?â
âYes,â Charles replies without hesitation. âIt was necessary.â
Thereâs another pause, and then Prince Albert speaks again, his tone decisive. âThen I trust your judgment. You did what you had to do. Consider this a royal pardon. Iâll have an official document delivered to the station within the hour.â
The manâs mouth falls open in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. âYou ⌠you canât do this!â He sputters, his voice rising in desperation. âHe assaulted me! He nearly killed me!â
Charles finally lowers the phone, ending the call. He slips it back into his pocket, his expression as cold and unyielding as ever. âYou heard him,â Charles says quietly, his eyes locked on the manâs. âYouâre done here.â
The man looks around wildly, as if searching for someone to back him up, but all he finds are the wary, sympathetic gazes of the officers. No one is going to help him. No one is going to defy Prince Albert.
The desk sergeant clears his throat, stepping forward. âMonsieur Leclerc,â he says, his voice carefully controlled, âit appears that youâre free to go.â
Charles doesnât smile. He simply nods, his gaze never leaving the man who stands trembling before him. âGood,â he says softly. âBecause I have more important things to do than waste my time here.â
The man opens his mouth to protest again, but the words die on his lips as Charles steps forward, his presence overwhelming, almost suffocating. âYou should leave Monaco,â Charles says, his voice low and dangerous. âBefore I change my mind about letting you live.â
The man stumbles back, his bravado crumbling as fear takes hold. He casts one last desperate glance at the officers, but they all turn away, unwilling to meet his eyes. Heâs alone in this, and he knows it.
With a final, defeated whimper, the man turns and flees from the station, his steps hurried, unsteady. Charles watches him go, his expression unreadable, his heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction.
The desk sergeant shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say. âUh, I ⌠weâre sorry for the inconvenience,â he stammers. âItâs just ⌠we had to follow procedure âŚâ
Charles waves a hand dismissively, already heading for the door. âItâs fine,â he says, though thereâs a hardness in his voice that suggests otherwise. âJust make sure this doesnât happen again.â
The sergeant nods quickly, grateful for the reprieve. âOf course, Monsieur Leclerc. It wonât happen again.â
Charles doesnât respond. He steps out into the sunlight, the tension slowly draining from his body as the warmth of the day washes over him. The streets of Monaco are as busy as ever, people going about their lives, oblivious to what just transpired inside the police station.
He takes a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs, grounding himself. The day is far from over, and there are still things he needs to do, but for now, the threat has been neutralized. The man who hurt you is gone, and Charles made sure heâll never come back.
As he walks away from the station, Charles canât help but think of you, your face, your voice, the way you smiled at him when you were just a little girl. He knows heâs crossed a line today, done things that most people wouldnât understand, wouldnât condone. But he doesnât care. He did it for you.
And heâd do it all over again if he had to.
***
Charles stands outside your apartment, a paper bag of takeout in one hand, his other raised to knock on the door. He hesitates for a moment, nerves he didnât expect twisting in his stomach. Itâs strange, feeling nervous about seeing you. Heâs known you for years â watched you grow up, shared countless family dinners with you, laughed at your jokes, teased you about your school crushes.
But this ⌠this feels different. Everything feels different now.
He finally knocks, a light tap that he knows youâll hear. A few seconds pass, and then the door swings open, revealing you standing there in a casual outfit, your hair pulled back, a soft smile on your face.
âCharles,â you greet him, your voice warm, familiar. âCome in.â
He steps inside, glancing around the cozy space. Itâs a small apartment, but itâs yours, filled with little touches that scream your personality â bookshelves overflowing with novels, a blanket draped over the back of the couch, a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. Itâs homey, comfortable, and it smells like the vanilla candle you always seem to have burning.
âI brought lunch,â Charles says, holding up the bag. âFigured you might be hungry.â
You smile, your eyes brightening at the sight of the food. âYou know me too well. What did you get?â
âYour favorite,â he replies, setting the bag down on the table and beginning to unpack it. âPasta from that little place near the harbor.â
âPerfect,â you say, moving to grab plates from the cupboard. âYou always know how to spoil me.â
Charles chuckles, though his mind is far from the light-hearted conversation. Thereâs something heavy sitting on his chest, something he knows he needs to tell you, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he focuses on the food, dishing out generous portions onto each plate.
You both sit down at the small dining table, and for a few minutes, thereâs nothing but the sound of forks scraping against plates and the occasional hum of satisfaction as you enjoy the meal. Itâs comfortable, easy â just like itâs always been between you.
But then, as if sensing his unease, you break the silence. âSo, I heard the craziest thing this morning,â you say, your tone light, almost teasing. âOne of my friends told me that you were almost arrested yesterday. Can you believe that?â
Charlesâ fork pauses midway to his mouth, his heart skipping a beat. He hadnât expected you to bring it up so casually, hadnât prepared himself for this moment. He forces a smile, though it doesnât quite reach his eyes. âOh? What did she say?â
You laugh, shaking your head. âShe said she heard you were involved in some kind of fight and that the police were called. I told her she was crazy. I mean, you wouldnât hurt a fly, right?â
Thereâs a playful glint in your eyes, but Charles canât bring himself to join in. Instead, he sets his fork down, the sound of metal against porcelain unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He looks at you, his expression serious, all traces of his earlier smile gone.
âActually,â he begins, his voice low, steady, âitâs true.â
Your smile falters, confusion flickering across your face. âWhat do you mean?â
Charles leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he meets your gaze head-on. âI was at the police station yesterday,â he says, the words heavy, deliberate. âThey called me in because that guy â the one who ⌠hurt you â he tried to press charges against me.â
You stare at him, the shock evident in your wide eyes. âWait, youâre serious? This isnât some joke?â
âIâm serious,â Charles replies, his voice calm, almost too calm. âIâm not proud of what I did, but Iâm not ashamed of it either. He deserved what he got.â
For a moment, you just sit there, trying to process what heâs telling you. You set your fork down, your appetite suddenly gone. âBut ⌠Charles, what did you do?â
Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. âI made sure he understood that there are consequences for his actions. That he canât just walk away after what he did to you.â
Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for your glass of water, taking a sip to steady yourself. âYou ⌠you didnât âŚâ
âI didnât kill him,â Charles says quickly, sensing your fear. âBut I hurt him. Badly. And I donât regret it.â
Youâre silent for a long moment, your mind racing. The Charles you know â the Charles you grew up with, the one who used to give you piggyback rides when you were too tired to walk â wouldnât do something like this. But then again, this isnât just anyone weâre talking about. This is you. And for Charles, youâre different. Youâve always been different.
âI did it to protect you,â Charles continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading. âI couldnât just stand by and let him get away with what he did. I couldnât âŚâ
He trails off, his gaze dropping to the table, his shoulders slumping slightly. Itâs as if all the fight has drained out of him, leaving behind only the raw, honest truth of his actions.
You swallow hard, trying to make sense of everything. âBut ⌠you could have been arrested. You could have gone to jail.â
Charles laughs, a bitter sound that holds no real amusement. âNot in Monaco,â he says, shaking his head. âNot for this.â
You furrow your brow, confusion evident in your expression. âWhat do you mean?â
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. âI talked to Prince Albert. He gave me a royal pardon. The guy had no chance.â
You blink, stunned by the casual way he says it, as if itâs the most normal thing in the world. âA royal pardon? Charles, thatâs ⌠thatâs not normal.â
âNo, itâs not,â Charles agrees, his tone somber. âBut I donât care. Iâd do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.â
The weight of his words hangs between you, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. Youâve always known Charles was protective of you, but this ⌠this is something else entirely. Heâs crossed a line, and thereâs no going back.
For a moment, youâre both silent, the tension in the room thick, suffocating. Charles watches you, his heart pounding in his chest, waiting for you to say something, anything. Heâs prepared for you to be angry, to be horrified by what heâs done. But he wasnât prepared for the look of sadness that crosses your face, the way your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has suddenly fallen on you.
âI donât know what to say,â you finally whisper, your voice shaky. âI never wanted you to do something like this for me.â
Charles leans forward, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. His touch is warm, steady, and for a moment, it grounds you, pulls you back from the edge of the panic thatâs been rising in your chest.
âI know,â he says softly. âI know this isnât what you wanted. But itâs what I needed to do. I couldnât just stand by and let him hurt you.â
You squeeze his hand, your grip tightening as if youâre afraid to let go. âBut what if you had been arrested? What if you couldnât get out of it? I couldnât bear the thought of you being locked up because of me.â
âI wouldnât let that happen,â Charles replies, his voice firm, resolute. âI told you, Iâd do anything to protect you. And I mean it.â
You look up at him then, your eyes searching his, trying to find some sign that this is all just a bad dream, that youâll wake up and everything will be back to normal. But all you see is the truth â the raw, unfiltered truth of what Charles has done, and why he did it.
âI donât know if I should be angry or grateful,â you admit, your voice trembling slightly. âYouâve always been there for me. But this ⌠this is something else.â
Charles smiles then, a small, sad smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes. âYou donât have to be anything,â he says softly. âJust know that Iâll always be here for you. No matter what.â
For a moment, you just sit there, holding his hand, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. Thereâs so much you want to say, so much you want to ask, but you canât seem to find the right words. Instead, you focus on the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his eyes never leave yours.
And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you lean across the table and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepens, the tension thatâs been building between you finally finding release.
Charlesâ hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. The kiss is everything you didnât know you needed â desperate, passionate, full of all the emotions that have been bubbling beneath the surface.
When you finally pull away, youâre both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you try to catch your breath. Charlesâ eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and thereâs a look in them that youâve never seen before â something raw and vulnerable, something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.
For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence heavy with the weight of what just happened. Charlesâ hand is still in your hair, his thumb gently stroking the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and steady, as if heâs trying to anchor himself in this moment, to hold onto it for as long as he can.
Eventually, you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your own heart pounding so loudly in your ears that youâre sure he can hear it too. âCharles âŚâ you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words catch in your throat. Youâre not sure what you want to say, what youâre supposed to say. Everything feels too big, too overwhelming.
Charles doesnât say anything, just watches you with that same intense gaze, his eyes searching yours for something â reassurance, maybe, or understanding. Slowly, he lowers his hand from your hair, his fingers trailing down the side of your face before he lets it fall to his lap. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling cold, and you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you, to kiss him again and forget everything else. But you donât.
Instead, you take a shaky breath and try to gather your thoughts, your mind racing. âWhat ⌠what does this mean?â You finally manage to ask, your voice trembling.
He looks down at his hands, his brows furrowing in thought. âI donât know,â he admits quietly. âAll I know is that Iâve never felt like this before. Iâve known you my whole life, but ⌠this is different.â
You bite your lip, trying to make sense of it all. âIâve always cared about you. You know that. But I never thought âŚâ You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, but the implication hangs in the air between you.
Charles finally looks up at you again, his expression softening. âNeither did I,â he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âBut now that itâs happened ⌠I donât think I can go back. I donât want to.â
Youâre silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. Thereâs a part of you that wants to be cautious, to protect yourself from whatever this is, but thereâs another part â one thatâs stronger â that wants to take the leap, to see where this could go.
âI donât want to either,â you whisper, the admission almost too much to say out loud. But itâs the truth, and once itâs out there, you feel a sense of relief, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
Charlesâ eyes soften even more, his smile widening slightly. He reaches out, taking your hand in his once more, his grip warm and steady. âThen letâs see where this goes,â he says, his voice low and full of promise.
You nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. âOkay.â
For a moment, you both just sit there, hands intertwined, the food on the table long forgotten as the reality of what just happened begins to sink in. Thereâs still so much you need to talk about, so many questions that need answers, but for now, this is enough. The kiss, the confession, the promise of something more â itâs all more than you ever expected.
Charles gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes never leaving yours. âWhatever happens next, I want you to know that Iâm here for you.â
You smile, your heart swelling with affection. âI know,â you say softly. âAnd Iâm here for you too.â
He nods, his expression earnest. âGood.â
The silence between you is comfortable now, the tension from earlier finally dissipating. You feel a sense of peace settle over you, a feeling that everything will be okay, no matter what comes next.
Finally, Charles glances at the table, his smile turning sheepish. âWe should probably finish our lunch,â he says, his tone light.
You laugh, the sound easing the last of your lingering nerves. âYeah, we probably should.â
You both pick up your forks, and the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, the ease between you returning as if nothing has changed. But you both know that something has. Thereâs a new understanding between you, a new connection that wasnât there before. And as you finish your meal, stealing glances at each other across the table, you canât help but feel excited about what the future might hold.
***
Monaco at night is a different kind of magic. The streets are quieter, the buzz of the day replaced by the hum of luxury cars and the distant sound of waves crashing against the harbor. The city glows with a soft, golden light, the kind that makes everything look a little more romantic, a little more surreal. And tonight, with you tucked into Charlesâ side as you walk home from dinner, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you.
Youâve been together for a few years now, and yet thereâs still a thrill in the way he holds you close, his arm draped around your shoulders as if heâs claiming you all over again. Thereâs something comforting in the familiarity of it, the way your bodies just fit together, like two puzzle pieces that were always meant to be.
The conversation between you is light, filled with teasing banter about the dessert you shared at the restaurant â how he insists you ate most of it, and you argue that heâs the one with the sweet tooth. Itâs the kind of easy back-and-forth that comes with knowing someone inside out, with having weathered storms together and come out stronger on the other side.
But as you turn down a quieter street, the atmosphere shifts. Itâs subtle at first â a flicker of movement in the corner of Charlesâ eye, the sense that youâre being watched. And then, out of nowhere, a voice cuts through the night, crude and jarring in its tone.
âHey, baby, how about a smile?â
You freeze, your muscles tensing instinctively. The voice belongs to a man leaning against a lamppost, his eyes raking over you with a leer that makes your skin crawl. You feel Charles stiffen beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders protectively. But before you can react, the man pushes off from the lamppost and approaches, his hand reaching out to touch you.
It all happens in a blur. The manâs fingers graze your arm, and you flinch back, your heart racing. But before you can fully process the disgust that courses through you, Charles is already moving.
The look in his eyes is one you recognize â a dark, dangerous glint that youâve only seen a handful of times, but each one burned into your memory. Itâs the same look he had that night at the club, the night he became more than just your protector, the night everything between you changed.
Heâs about to lunge, his body coiled like a spring, ready to unleash all the anger simmering beneath the surface. But you place a hand on his chest, stopping him just in time.
âCharles,â you say softly, but thereâs a knowing edge to your voice, a familiarity with the situation. âShould I call Prince Albert? Let him know you might need another pardon?â
Charles pauses, his gaze flickering to yours, and for a moment, the tension eases. The corners of his mouth twitch upward, a dark, almost feral smile playing on his lips.
âYeah,â he replies, his voice low and laced with a dangerous amusement. âThis must be the fourth one this year.â
You canât help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood, if only for a second. âActually,â you correct him, your eyes sparkling with mischief, âitâs the fifth.â
His smile widens at that, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. But the humor doesnât last long. The reality of the situation pulls him back, and his expression hardens once more as he turns his attention to the man who dared to touch you.
âStay here,â Charles says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Itâs the voice of a man whoâs about to do something he wonât regret â something heâs done before.
You nod, trusting him, knowing that whatever happens next, itâs out of your hands. And as Charles steps away from you, you canât help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction, a sense of justice in knowing that this man is about to face the consequences of his actions.
The man, oblivious to the danger heâs in, sneers at Charles, clearly unbothered by the presence of another man. âWhat are you gonna do, pretty boy?â He taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance. âYou think you can scare me?â
Charles doesnât respond immediately. He takes his time, closing the distance between them with a measured, almost predatory grace. And when he finally speaks, his voice is as cold as ice.
âYou have no idea who youâre dealing with,â Charles says quietly, the words laced with a threat that hangs heavy in the air.
The man laughs, the sound grating and unpleasant. âOh, I know exactly who you are,â he sneers. âYouâre that driver, right? Leclerc? Big deal. Doesnât mean you can do whatever you want.â
Charles tilts his head slightly, as if considering the manâs words, and then, to your surprise, he laughs â a dark, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine.
âYou think being in public will protect you?â Charles asks, his voice dripping with mockery. âYou think because there are people around, I wonât make you regret ever laying a hand on her?â
The man falters, some of his bravado slipping as he realizes that Charles isnât backing down. He glances around, perhaps expecting someone to come to his aid, but the street is empty, save for a few onlookers who are too far away to hear the exchange.
Charles doesnât give him time to think. With a speed that takes the man by surprise, he grabs him by the collar, yanking him forward with a strength that belies his lean frame. The man stumbles, his cocky demeanor evaporating as he realizes heâs in over his head.
âYou should have walked away,â Charles murmurs, his voice dangerously calm. âBut now ⌠now youâre going to pay.â
The man struggles, trying to push Charles away, but itâs futile. Charles is a professional athlete, his body honed for strength and endurance, and the man is no match for him. Within seconds, Charles has him pinned against the wall of a nearby building, his forearm pressed against the manâs throat.
âGet off me, you psycho!â The man chokes out, his voice panicked as he claws at Charlesâ arm.
But Charles doesnât budge. He leans in closer, his face inches from the manâs, his eyes filled with a cold, calculated fury. âYouâre going to regret ever touching her,â he says quietly, his words laced with venom.
And then, without warning, he drags the man away from the wall, pulling him down the street with a force that makes it clear this isnât just a warning â itâs a promise. The man tries to resist, tries to fight back, but itâs no use. Charles is stronger, faster, and more determined, his grip unyielding as he hauls the man toward a darker, more secluded part of the street.
You watch from a distance, your heart pounding in your chest. Part of you wants to stop him, to tell him itâs not worth it, but another part of youâ the part that remembers the fear and helplessness you felt when that man touched you â wants Charles to follow through, to make sure this man never does this to anyone else again.
As they disappear around a corner, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you. You trust Charles, you know heâll be careful, but you canât help the worry that creeps in, the fear of what might happen next.
Minutes pass, each one feeling like an eternity, and then finally, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, your breath catching in your throat as you see Charles emerging from the shadows, alone.
His expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and stormy as he walks back to you. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken words.
Then, without a word, Charles pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if heâs afraid to let go. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.
âIâm sorry,â he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair. âIâm sorry you had to see that.â
You shake your head, pulling back just enough to look up at him. âYou donât have to apologize,â you say softly, your hand cupping his cheek. âIâm just glad youâre okay.â
He smiles then, a small, tired smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes. âIâm okay,â he says, though you can hear the weariness in his voice. âBut he wonât be bothering you â or anyone else â again.â
You nod, knowing thereâs more to the story than heâs telling you, but you donât press him. Not now, not when heâs holding you so tightly, as if heâs afraid to let you go.
âLetâs go home,â you say gently, taking his hand in yours.
Charles nods, his grip on your hand firm as he leads you back down the street, away from the darkness and into the light. And as you walk together, side by side, you canât help but feel a sense of relief, a sense of safety in knowing that no matter what happens, Charles will always be there to protect you.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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Your writing is stunning! Can I request injured!reader and Carmy rushing to be by her side? god the idea of that man dropping everything to be with you....
this has been in my drafts for probably a year now. i forget why i was hesitant to post it. so hereâs something for you all :)
âHey, Cousinââ
âIâm in the middle âf something, not now, Richieââ
âHey.â He raises his brows, gives that serious look that has Carmenâs head peeking over his shoulder because itâs so sharp he can feel it. âItâs your girl. You wanna take this.â
He gets nervous, then, heart beginning to race. Whereâs his fuckinâ phone?
âGive it here,â he says, arm extended. Richie hands it over and slips out the door, shutting it to leave Carmen by himself in the office; it only makes hurt stomach lurch harder.
He lifts the phone to his ear. âHello?â
â. . . Carm?â Your voice is broken and wobbly, wrought with tears.
âBaby?â He doesnât even think before heâs jumping out of his chair, tucking the phone between his jaw and shoulder while he scrambles to find his keys. âBaby, you there? Where are you?â
âI-Iâm at the hospital, I tried calling youââ
âThe hospitalâ?â His mind goes back to New York, back to that morning. âWhatââ He takes a deep breath. His jacket. Where the fuck is it? âOkay, youâre okay, Iâm cominâ now, alright?â He storms out of the office toward the lockers, finds everything right where he put it, including his phone. Dead. Fuck. âI gotta hang up, okay? Iâm sorry, I know, I canât take the phone with me. Iâll be there soon, I promise.â
âO-Okay.â A shuddered breath rings through the line, and it kills him. âIâm okay, Carmyââ
âI know,â he says, shimmying into his jacket and feeling for his keys. âI know, baby, but Iâm cominâ anyway, you hear me? Gonna be there in ten.â
âOkay.â
âOkay. I love you.â
He doesnât put the phone back properly, just slides it across the counter and hopes it doesnât break again, shouting out orders over his shoulder on his way out the door.
The ride there is the longest ten minutes of his life. He doesnât know what to expect. He doesnât know anything at all, really. Are you hurt? How bad is it? What happened? Is it a burn, a broken bone, just a flu that got out of hand? Will you need surgery? Did you get in an accident? Did someone try to hurt you? He doesnât want you to be alone right now. He needs to be there with you. You were fine this morning. You were fine this morning, all beautiful and groggy when he kissed you awake, still cozied up in bed when he left early as the sky turned blue after sunrise. You were fine. You were fine, and then he left, and suddenly you werenât.
The fluorescent lights make him nauseous. Theyâre too bright, and a disgusting color, and too different from all the gentle lighting you insisted upon at home. Made the place homey, you said, and he agreed. The nurses at the station must think heâs out of his mind, all wide-eyed and asking for you.
âWhatâs your name?â the one asks him.
âCarmen, Iâm her fiancĂŠ, I wasâI was just on the phone with herââ
âOkay,â she nods, softening. âSheâs doinâ alright now, she was askinâ for you, though. Still gotta get her wrapped up, but youâll be outta here soon.â
Heâs too busy wondering What the fuck does that mean? to properly answer.
When heâs finally brought to your room, his nerves subsideâonly a little. Thereâs no blood, no bland hospital gown to say youâre headed off to the operating room. Just a pillow over your tummy, with your armâyour swollen, bruised armâresting on top of it.
âHey, hon,â he says, coming to your bedside and smoothing a hand over your forehead to press his lips to your temple. âYou alright? What happened?â
âTheyââ you sniffle when you look up at him, lip quiveringâ âThey had to take my ring off, Carmyââ he nods along to your rambling with a concerned browâ âI-I told them not to, but they said my hand was too swollenâthat-that it was gonna mess up my fingerâ. . .â
âWhatâs that, baby?â He smiles into your hair and exhales through his nose. So typical of you to get upset about something cute like that, he knows youâll be okay. âYour armâs all black ân blue, and youâre worried about your ringâ?â
âBut itâs specialââ
âShhhhh . . . I know, I know . . . âm just askinâ you to ease up.â Another kiss lands on your forehead before he asks, âWhereâs it at, baby? Iâll fix it for you.â
You pout and look somewhere behind him. âOn the table, but youâre not gonna be able toââ
âJust take a breath ân relax fâme, yeah? I got it.â
He stands upright again, turning to check that the ring is thereâthat beautiful, beautiful big diamond for his precious girl, before reaching toward the nape of his neck to unclasp his chain. Carefully, he threads it through the ring, silently urges you to sit up so he can hook it around your neck, icy-cool on your smooth skin, admiring the way it sparkles like your eyes.
Youâre still pouting when heâs done, and he kisses your soft lips anyway while he wipes away stray tears. âBetter?â
â. . . yeah,â you admit through a murmur.
âGood,â he huffs, pulling the visitorâs chair right next to your bed. With your good arm, you reach for him, just any part of him, and he holds your hand as he kisses your dry knuckles. âYou gonna tell me what happened now? Whatâs got you all banged up?â
And you groan and roll your eyes, insisting that itâs too embarrassing to tell, and he lets you drag it out just because he thinks itâs cute when youâre stubborn. The doctor comes in with the x-rays to confirm that, yes, indeed, youâve got yourself a broken arm, and after youâre splinted and discharged and given a sling and the next dayâs protocol, Carmen holds your good hand on the way out the door.
âOh,â you start, pausing before he opens the car door for you, âI forgot to tell you.â
âHm?â
âI drove here.â
âYou what?â
âI told you, I was embarrassed, Carmââ
âJesus fuckinâ Christ, baby,â he grunts, laughing and shaking his head with fingers running through his hair as he helps you into the passengerâs seat. âYouâre killinâ me today, yâknow that?â
And itâs not the last time. When he unlocks the front door and sees the laundry spilled all the way down the stairs, with a basket flipped upside down at the bottom, he can put the pieces together. He kisses you softly, doesnât say a word about it, takes you to the bedroom, and tucks you into bed to let you rest now that your adrenaline is wearing off and the pain meds are making you sleepy.
He fixes up the mess without a second thought, and once heâs done he slips right under the covers next to you, thanking whatever God there is that youâre okay, and that heâs got you back in his arms.
(And tomorrow, when he takes you into the doctorâs office for a proper cast, he has Natalie and Pete pick up your car. He still hounds on you about it weeks later, how you drove yourself to the hospital with a broken arm. You insist it makes for a good story, and to that he canât deny.)
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fic#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3
âđâËâšâĄ
Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? youâd realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadnât seen it. Itâs not because he doesnât want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. Heâd probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.
You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. Heâd heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,
You.
itâs the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and itâs getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He canât focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.
But Choso wasnât weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, âmaybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,â
And now heâs here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. Youâd went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.
When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees itâs Yuji whoâs calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.
âhello?â
âhi Choso, itâs me,â its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yujiâs new friends from your Jujutsu College. âmy phone went out so i borrowed Yujiâs to call you,â you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, âshe forgot her bag on purpose!!â Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,
ânot trueâŚâ you say awkwardly and laugh âbut uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? itâs gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,â he can feel that tugging in his heart, heâs excited to see you again, even if itâs only because of your forgetfulness. âit uhâŚit is no trouble,â he says quickly,
âthank you ChosoâŚill see you tomorrow,â and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.
âđâËâšâĄ
Heâs sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.
He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.
He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-
oh. fuck.
Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and alsoâŚ
a pair of your used panties.
he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. donât.
he picks them up.
Heâs only just learned about sex, about relationships and aboutâŚpleasuring himself. And heâs already a massive pervert.
what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.
He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,
he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.
And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.
how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel soâŚweak? why does he feel weak?
He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.
he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.
Ëâşâ§âËâĄËââ§âşË
thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!
#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#kamo choso x reader#choso smut#choso fluff#choso x you#choso x reader#choso x female reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#i love him so much
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âËŕż seven minutes in heaven đđËâ
âââ ââ
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lee felix x fem!reader
synopsis: you and your best friend, felix are at a party. felix has a massive crush on you and you have no idea, so when you get picked for seven minutes in heaven with him, you didn't expect it to change everything for you.
wc: 3.6k
warnings: MDNI! 18+, friends to lovers, 7 minutes in heaven (duh), alcohol consumption (not much), reader is dumb, fluffy, kinda angst, a lot of kissing, they're both horny, felix is pining, confessions, a lot of banter, other members are mentioned, (lmk if i missed any)
a/n: SECOND FELIX FIC OF THE DAY, EAT UP. no fr i love spoiling you guys. pls pls leave suggestions in my inbox i literally am running out of ideas... also also if u want to be tagged in future fics lmk, i think that's it, I LOVE YOU GUYS FR!!
âââ ââ
ââ
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The music thumped through the walls, the bass reverberating in your chest as you sat on the edge of the couch, nervously sipping your drink. Felix stood beside you, offering comfort amidst the sea of strangers. The house party, hosted by Chan, was in full swing, with people mingling and chatting all around.
You'd been reluctant to come, but Felix had convinced you with his warm smile and persistent charm. After all, youâd been best friends for years, sharing countless memories and inside jokes. What you didnât know was that Felix had been harboring a crush on you for almost as long.
"Hey, are you having fun?" Felix nudged you gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that familiar, reassuring way. His cheerful voice always brightened the place.
"Yeah, it's alright," you lied, forcing a smile. Parties weren't really your thing, and mingling with strangers made you uneasy. But with Felix by your side, it was bearable.
As the song ended, Changbinâs voice rang out, calling everyone to gather in a circle. "Alright, everyone! We're playing 7 Minutes in Heaven!"
You groaned inwardly, rolling your eyes. "Seriously? That's so stupid," you muttered under your breath. Felix laughed in response, his laugh a soothing balm to your nerves. "Donât worry, heâs just doing this so he can get a kiss from Hyunjin."
"Okay, but if I get picked, Iâm not doing anything," you said with finality, taking another sip of your drink. Felix gave a non-committal hum, nodding as if he agreed with you. The thought of Felix potentially being picked by someone else made you uneasy, and you didnât like the feeling. It was selfish, but you knew that if he did get picked, youâd probably make a scene or throw up so he'd be distracted and not have to go along with it.
You took a seat in the circle, positioning yourself right next to Felix as the others settled in around you. Your red solo cup was perched behind you, barely noticed.
Changbin spun an empty bottle in the center of the circle. You tried to keep your composure as you watched it spin, your heart rate increasing with every slow rotation. The bottle eventually landed on a girl you didnât recognize.
You heard Changbin mutter a curse word under his breath as he stood up.
"Why does he look so serious about it?" you whispered to Felix. "Itâs not like you actually have to do anything, right?"
Felix shrugged, a faint smile on his face as he watched them walk to the closet. "Thatâs the rule, though," he explained, leaning in close. "If youâre chosen, you have to at least kiss."
Your stomach twisted at that comment. The thought of Felix, your best friend, being paired with someone else, made you nervous. Maybe it was the alcohol not sitting right with you, even though you hadnât finished your first drink yet.
The 7 minutes went by quickly. Felix couldnât help but steal a few glances at you. Your eyes were fixated on the floor, and your fingers twirled your hair absentmindedly.
"Alright, thatâs enough time! Out, out, out!" Changbin shouted, pounding on the closet that locked from the outside. Chan was laughing as he unlocked the door, letting the two out.
The girl looked flustered, her lips swollen and her cheeks pink, while Changbin looked smug. You watched them rejoin the circle and settle back in.
The game continued, and eventually, it was Felixâs turn to spin. You swallowed thickly, praying that the bottle wouldnât land on anyone.
"H-Hey Felix, maybe we shouldâ"
He spun the bottle before you could finish your sentence. The sound of the glass against the floor made your nerves go haywire. You held your breath as the bottle began to slow, watching as it spun round and round. A woman you didnât know from across the circle was giggling and whispering while looking at Felix, and it made your blood boil.
The bottle stopped, and your eyes widened as it pointed directly at you. Your heart seemed to skip a beat, a momentary pause in the rhythm of anticipation. You looked at Felix, who was trying to hide his smile, his freckled cheeks rosy.
You couldnât tell if it was the alcohol, the nerves, or the sudden burst of emotions that made you feel dizzy. You could hear the circle âoohâ ing and starting to whisper. Minho had a shit-eating grin on his face, and Changbin was giving Felix a thumbs up.
Felix stood up and held his hand out to you. "Come on, letâs go," he said, his voice surprisingly calm, a smile plastered on his face. You were too stunned to say anything, and the butterflies and alcohol in your stomach were making you nauseous.
You hesitantly took his hand and followed him to the closet.
The closet was tiny, only big enough for the two of you to stand facing each other. Once the door was closed and locked, the tension in the air felt palpable. The dim light barely illuminated Felixâs face. Your heart pounded in your ears, and the muffled sounds of the party outside only added to the surreal atmosphere.
Felix took a deep breath, his hand still holding yours. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his concern evident in his eyes.
"Yeah, just... nervous," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "This is kind of awkward."
He chuckled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. "It doesnât have to be."
"But Felix, youâre my best friend," you protested, your voice trembling slightly. "What... what if this changes things?"
He shook his head, leaning closer to you. You could smell his shampoo, the familiar scent comforting you. "I would never let anything change that," he whispered, his eyes searching yours with earnest sincerity. "I promise."
You bit your lip, nodding slightly. He cupped your cheek with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. The gentle touch made your breath hitch.
"Okay, well... donât make fun of me if Iâm a shit kisser, then," you said, trying to break the tension with a joke.
Felix let out a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only if you donât make fun of me," he replied, a tiny smile on his face.
You looked up into his eyes, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. Despite being best friends, or perhaps because of the three sips of alcohol, you wanted this. Felix leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours softly, barely a kiss, testing the waters. The contact sent a jolt through your body, and you felt your breath hitch. You closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss, your heart pounding in your chest.
Youâd always imagined how his lips would feel on yoursâthey always looked so plump and soft. And now that they were on your lips, they definitely exceeded your expectations. His warm, slightly alcoholic-tasting lips were soft against yours.
Felixâs lips lingered against yours, the kiss soft and tentative. The initial brush of his lips sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a rush of warmth spreading through you. His kiss was gentle but full of a quiet longing that made your knees weak.
He pulled away slightly, giving both of you a moment to breathe. Your eyes scanned his face, noting his flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. The desire in his gaze made your heart race. You wanted more.
Without a second thought, you pulled him back in, grabbing the sides of his face and pressing your lips to his once more. Felix hesitated for a second, his eyes widening in surprise, before he began to kiss you back. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands tangling in his hair as the kiss intensified with a new sense of desire.
The initial softness of the kiss transformed into something deeper, more passionate. You could feel his tongue gently probing at your lips, and you hesitated only for a moment before parting them to allow him access. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch with a skill and tenderness that took your breath away.
The kiss was slow and sensual, filled with a growing urgency. Your stomach fluttered as his hands explored your waist, his body heat pressing against you. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you could feel a knot forming in your stomach.
A soft whine escaped your lips, and Felix responded by pressing his body more firmly against yours. His chest pressed against your soft breasts, his knee parting your legs as he pressed closer. His leg pressing against your core only heightened your arousal.
You didnât realize you were panting until you pulled away to take a deep breath. Felixâs lips immediately trailed down to your neck, his soft kisses sending your heart racing. His warm breath brushed your skin, his teeth lightly grazing your neck before his tongue soothed the area. It drove you wild.
His kisses traveled down to your collarbone, and you felt weak in the knees, literally. Your legs trembled, perhaps from the lack of oxygen or the overwhelming excitement. Felix picked you up and pressed you against the wall of the closet, his strong hands lifting you by your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
"Lix," you moaned out, barely above a whisper. His lips lightly brushed over your neck, peppering you with tender, gentle kisses.
"Hmm?" he hummed against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring. His grip on you tightened as he sucked another mark on your skin.
You could barely get the words out, the feeling of his lips and teeth and tongue all over your neck was driving you wild. You could feel your cheeks burning and the wetness pooling in your underwear, and you could tell he was getting hard from the bulge pressing against your core.
You heard a light knocking on the door.
"Do... do you think... the seven minutes are up?" you managed to get out, the words barely coherent. Felix stopped what he was doing, and it looked like he snapped back into it a little, you could feel his shoulders tense.
"Oh shit, we have been in here for a while." Felix's voice was shaky, and he sounded breathless.
He put you down, and you stumbled a little, still light-headed from the kisses. He helped you get steady, his arm supporting you. You could see the flush on his face and his tousled hair, and he could see the marks and red spots littered on your neck, his eyes were glossed over, and his breathing was heavy.
You tried to straighten your clothes, and he cleared his throat, fixing his hair.
The sound of the door unlocking startled you both.
You were still flustered and breathing heavily as the door opened. Chan was standing there, a smirk on his face. "Alright, come on out."
"You better not have fucked in there," Changbin said, appearing next to Chan, his arms crossed. "We have to sit on that floor."
You walked out of the closet, a dazed expression on your face, Felix close behind. You felt as if everyone in the room could see the marks all over your neck and the fact that your legs were still shaky.
The other members were gathered around the two, and their stares were almost enough to make you blush more. Minho's smug expression and the look of amusement on Jisung's face told you that they were aware of what just transpired.
"I need some fresh air," you said, trying to sound normal.
You didn't wait for Felix to respond and made your way through the crowded living room, towards the patio doors. The chilly night air felt refreshing against your heated skin, and you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a moment. You could hear the laughter and music coming from inside, the sounds far less intrusive out here.
You laid your head in your hands as you tried to take deep breaths, clearing your mind. You'd been best friends with Felix for years, and you pulled him in for another unrequired kiss.
You felt stupid for doing it, but it felt so good, the way he picked you up and devoured your neck and lips as if he was starving.
You could still taste him, and the memory alone made you weak.
But... what if it was just a mistake?
The alcohol made you reckless, and you didn't want to lose him, your best friend, just because you couldn't control yourself.
The thought of never feeling his lips against yours again made you feel a dull ache.
You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You should go back inside and forget about it for the night, besides, he said he'd promise this wouldn't ruin anything.
When you got back inside, you could see the girl you noticed earlier, giggling and batting her eyelashes at Felix.
She was pretty, sure, but it irked you.
But you'd seen her before, and you knew she wasn't as perfect as she seemed. She was a player, always going for men that were already in relationships, or men that were too young for her.
"Oh, it's my turn!" She exclaimed, looking over at Felix. Her voice was shrill, and it grated on your ears.
You observed her spinning the bottle, and just as it was about to halt, you caught her slyly halting its rotation with a discreet movement of her foot towards Felix. A surge of anger erupted within you, fueling an immediate response as you strode forward and forcefully kicked the bottle across the room.
It went flying across the room and shattered against the wall.
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone stared at you.
"Jealous much? You already had your moment with Felix." The girl taunted, her voice grating.
"Fuck you. You used your foot to stop the bottle on him." You retorted, glaring at her.
Felix's eyes widened, and he gave you a confused look. "Wait, what?"
"Yeah, right! She's just a lying bitch." She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.
You clenched your fists, trying to keep your cool. "Don't call me a bitch," you said, stepping towards her.
"Oh, so we're going to fight? Okay, fine. I've been wanting to mess up that pretty little face of yours."
Right before she could attempt to swing at you, but Felix stopped her hand, catching her wrist.
"Stop," he said, his tone stern.
"Felix is single, so he can kiss whoever he wants."
"Yeah, well, he's not single." You blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Everyone from the circle was shocked and confused, and you could hear the whispers and questions.
"What?" the girl asked, her eyes wide.
Felix's expression was similar.
The words spilled from your lips, leaving you stunned and at a loss for an explanation, grappling with the sudden revelation that had escaped your own lips. You could feel the eyes on you, the curious stares and the whispers. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you felt like your head was about to explode.
"He's not single." You repeated, your voice firm. "He's... he's my boyfriend."
Felix had an unreadable expression, but it looked like he was trying not to laugh. You didn't know why, and you couldn't think straight at the moment.
"Wait, you guys are finally dating?" Changbin interjected, his brows furrowed.
You nodded, not taking your eyes off the girl. "Yeah. We're together."
You grabbed Felix's hand before anyone else could call you out on your bluff, leading him to a random room and closing the door behind you.
"So... I'm your boyfriend, huh?" Felix said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Shut up..." You murmured, embarrassed. He could tell by the look on your face that you were struggling internally.
"Hey," he said softly, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I'm just teasing you."
You sighed, trying to calm your racing heart. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have picked a fight for something as little as that, she can kiss you if she wants, it's not like we're together."
"It's okay, really," he reassured you in a soft tone. "She can't kiss me."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm already taken." He said with a smile, his eyes searching yours.
"I'm the only one who gets to kiss those soft lips," you whispered out.
He looked surprised, and then he chuckled softly. "Is that so?"
You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your neck.
"Well, then..." He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, feather-light and barely a kiss.
Your heart skipped a beat.
"Claim them," he whispered, his words sending a shiver down your spine.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. He responded eagerly, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you close. The kiss was intense and desperate, full of pent-up desire. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting every inch, making you moan softly into the kiss.
Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands and tugging slightly. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the way he was gripping your waist was almost bruising.
When you broke apart, you were both panting. His gaze was intense, his pupils blown wide.
"Lix," you started, your voice shaky.
"What?"
"I... I'm sorry."
His brows furrowed, a confused look on his face. "For what?"
"This is so confusing, now" you started, your a tear swelling in your eye. "You're my best friend and... what are we doing? Why do I feel like this? Is this supposed to be casual?"
"You mean like how you were jealous of that girl? And how you're currently making out with me right now?" Felix said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"What's that supposed to mean?" You shot back, the words hitting you.
"It means that I love you," he confessed, the words coming out of his mouth quickly. "I'm in love with you, have been for a while, and I thought you were too."
You could hear your heartbeat, and it felt like the room was spinning.
"What?"
He smiled sadly, his eyes filled with emotion.
"But... I..." You didn't know what to say. Your feelings for him were clear, and yet you'd never let it click, you refused to.
Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, and tears were spilling down your cheeks.
"It's okay," he said, his voice gentle. "I don't expect you to feel the same way. I just wanted you to know."
"No, it's not okay," you cried, wiping away your tears. "I'm in love with you too."
His eyes widened, and his lips parted in surprise.
"I just didn't realize it until now. I was scared of admitting it to myself, but... I love you, Lix. I love you so much."
Felix's smile was like the sun, bright and warm, and it made your heart soar.
"I'm in love with you too," he said softly.
You couldn't help but laugh, tears still rolling down your cheeks. "I know"
He cupped your cheek and wiped away your tears, his gaze intense. "I'm going to kiss you again," he whispered.
"Okay," you smiled.
And he did.
His lips were soft and warm, and his kiss was filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. You could taste the salt of your tears on his lips, and you could feel the warmth of his skin against yours.
He pulled away after a few moments, and you couldn't help but sigh.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours.
"Me? You're the beautiful one."
"No, you're the beautiful one," he said, shaking his head. "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you."
You blushed, unable to hold his gaze.
"Hey," he said, lifting your chin with his finger. "I mean it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."
"Lix, you're the beautiful one," you said, smiling at him. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met. Your eyes, your smile, the way you laugh, the way you light up a room when you walk in. And your stupid freckles."
He laughed, shaking his head. "My freckles aren't stupid," he said, trying to sound offended.
"They're cute, and they make you even more beautiful," you said, scoffing. "Don't try to deny it."
He gave you a warm smile. "If you say so."
"I do," you said, feeling bold. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, enjoying the way he tasted.
He chuckled softly and pulled away, his eyes shining.
"So, was this casual? Or are you finally going to let me date you?"
"We've been dating since I confessed," you said, raising a brow.
"Then can we go on a real date? Where we dress up, go out to dinner, and then make out afterwards?"
"That's basically what we just did."
"But we only made out," he whined.
"Okay, okay, fine. We can go on a proper date."
He smiled and gave you another quick kiss.
"I'm going to spoil the fuck out of you," he said.
"Just spoil me? Or spoil me, and then fuck me?" You teased, trailing fingers down his chest.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Maybe it is," you smiled, your hands running back up his chest.
He groaned and buried his face in your neck, his hands rubbing at your waist. "Can we please leave now?"
âââ ââ
ââ
â ââ
pt 2 here <3
#stray kids x reader#skz#stray kids#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids felix#straykids#skz felix#skz imagines#skz x reader#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#lee felix#felix lee#felix smut#felix x reader#felix#stray kids smut
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Haunted
part one
I tried my best to tag as many people!
The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!
You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.
That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.
Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.
He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.
"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.
"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.
Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.
"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."
There he was back to reality in his coldâbig office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.
No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Tojiâs empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving onâfor the better.Â
âYou and Y/n are doing better, I guess?â He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his bossâs desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss.Â
âShe left actually, but itâs better this way.âÂ
âIs it?âÂ
âNo, itâs not.â You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Tojiâs heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. âI actually love kids.â Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby.Â
âItâs been rough ever since my wife passed.âÂ
He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.
âDaddyâgumi hungry!â The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.
Where are you?
Are you okay?
He wonders if youâre doing better now that you left him.
Probably, right?
Wrong.
âYou need to clean this place up, itâs a mess y/n.â Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.
She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.
âItâs gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.â
Thatâs what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?
âGo back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when heâs ready. I see the love in his eyes.â She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.
This is what you needed.
The embrace of someone elseâs while your life was slowly changing.
His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. Itâs been well over six months since the break up.
Toji was more than ready.
He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.
His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.
âHello?â
<- previous next part ->
taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha
#rosipuree#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x y/n#angst#jjk angst#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x reader#fushiguro#toji x you
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friendly neighborhood spiderman - fushiguro megumi
word count: 25k i need a lobomy warnings: swearing, men making reader uncomfortable, some blood n bruises summary: besides being morally gray, megumi has never crossed any personal boundaries while protecting the city disguised as the spiderman. that is, until it comes to her. a thorn in his side, a plague to his mind, and a skip in his heart. wait, what?
notes: SPIDERMAN AU! rivals to unknown friends to unknown lovers to..??
___
With great power comes great responsibilityâŚ
To that, Fushiguro Megumi said; no shit. Â
Living a double life wasnât always the easiest thing in the world, but the justice part came to him naturally. He didnât like to call his abilities superpowers, there was something too childish about it, but since gaining them, Megumi had known there was some kind of reason.
Maybe it was because he had a stronger sense of right and wrong than most of the people he knew. His peers at the college he attended seemed to have more interest in alcohol poisoning than anything else, so he supposed it made sense that if a radioactive spider bit had to give someone powers⌠it might as well have been him.
Besides, he was kind of a loner, so it wasnât hard to hide his double life. Every day he followed the same routine.
Wake up early to work out and do a quick patrol of the city, try to get to his classes on time, study in between lectures, study through lunch, and then as soon as his last class of the day was over he was off to swing through the city and keep an eye on things.
There had been an uptick in crime in Tokyo lately, and Megumi hadnât quite put his finger on why. It had never been the safest city in Japan, but since taking on this role it seemed like criminals everywhere were crawling out of the cracks and shadows to challenge him. Not that anything had proven to be too challenging for The Spiderman⌠petty criminals made it easy.
âLate again, FushiguroâÂ
There were, however, challenges that Megumi faced.
(y/n) swiveled around in her seat just as heâd sat down behind her. To think heâd patted himself on the back for only being three minutes late today. He shouldâve known she was counting down the minutes to rub it in his face.
Resting her elbows on the back of her seat so she could smirk at him, she plops her chin on her fists and eyes him curiously. Megumi canât even be bothered to roll his eyes, heâd grown too tired of the same banter every day.
If she couldnât take his place at the top of the class, (y/l/n) (y/n) would have to find some other way to antagonize Megumi- and she took that job all too seriously. Unfortunately their class schedules were almost identical, seeing as they were both enrolled in as many accelerated courses as they could be, so Megumi spent most of his day in her vicinity. And hell, she never let him forget it.
When he barely even looks at her, (y/n) turns back around in her seat, seemingly already prepping her notebook for her notes of the day. Sheâs probably one of those girls that makes every page pretty and aesthetically pleasing, Megumi finds himself frowning at his own train of thought. He only had seven more hours of putting up with her competitive attitude, and then heâd be free and far from it.
Nothing cleared his mind like swinging around the city. She couldnât possibly plague him once he was in his suit. He tried to tell himself that through the rest of class, everytime her hand shot up in the air and she bragged her way through perfect, textbook answers.
It was no doubt that sheâd be successful after graduation. Megumi would rather die than admit it out loud, but he wouldnât be surprised in the least if she ended up a millionaire- billionaire- with how well studied and determined she was to win. If she put half the effort into her future career that she did just by bothering him, sheâll probably earn herself some title of youngest most successful woman.Â
Hopefully by then sheâll be too busy to bother him anymore. Although Megumi assumes that by the time graduation rolls around, heâll never see her again. Â
She was probably counting down the days until then, too. ___
Megumi spent his lunches alone.
This didnât really bother him. He didnât have much interest in making friends, and never put much effort into it. He liked to think he was kind, but he knew he wasnât the most approachable guy in the world. If he was honest, he kind of liked it that way. So long as he kept his clothes dark, his face expressionless, and his hair untamed, then he seemed to ward people off. No one approached his usual small table in the corner of the lunchroom unless they needed to borrow one of the extra empty chairs. Even then, people seemed nervous to ask, and more often than not someone would scurry over and take one without a word, rushing it back to their table before Megumi could say something untoward.
The way he dressed himself wasnât the only thing keeping people away. His reputation might have something to do with it as wellâŚ
But that fight wasnât his fault. Not necessarily. So what if someone got sent to the hospital? Megumi was a believer in consequences being served⌠and if no one else was going to deliver, then he supposed it came down to him to do the right thing. This was before the spider bite, before Spiderman, so his strong sense of justice had nowhere to be channeled.
To Megumi, all that mattered was the guy learned his lesson. And by the way, he did live. He just had to spend a week in Intensive Care to pull through, is all.
Unapproachable was an understatement when it came to Megumi.
Maybe thatâs why he found (y/n) all the more obnoxious.
He minds his business during his lunch hour- although heâd argue that he minds his business all the time. Sitting in the corner with headphones large enough to make the point clear that he didnât want to be bothered, his nose was always stuck in a book. Heâd eat with one hand and scribble in his notebooks with the other. Even if he could afford a laptop he didnât want to use one. His time was better utilized if he could study and eat simultaneously.
The corner of his eye twitches when he catches a glimpse of her in his peripheral. He hates that the hair on the back of his neck stands up when she shows up, all of his nerves tingling like a warning. His grimace is obvious as he finds her walking through the cafe with the little lunch box he knew was perfectly organized in multiple compartments. She probably didnât let any of her food touch.
Sheâs stopped on her mission to get to her table of know-it-all friends, and Megumi shouldnât care that some guy called her over to his table to talk to her, itâs a bit of a boring scene, honestly. He should get back to his studying now, but for some reason heâs compelled to watch from the back of the room as (y/n) drags her feet over to the guyâs table.
Megumi doesnât recognize him, or really any of his surrounding friends, but by the looks of it they seemed like the kind of guys that wouldnât have gotten into the classes heâs taking.
A year ago Megumi wouldnât have been able to hear their conversation, not from across the busy cafe where a hundred other conversations are happening, but now he finds it easy to tune out all the other noise and eavesdrop on (y/n) and this frat boy.
âYou always walk by without saying hello. You tryinâ to hurt my feelings, princess?â The frat boy feigns heartbreak, holding his hand to his chest all the while grinning at her.
âHelloâ
(y/nâs) reply is rigid. She sounds as bored as Megumi feels watching her. He almost scoffs at himself for even paying this much attention. Clearly his little warning sense was misfiring, because nothing of interest is playing out here. He was starting to consider this a waste of his heightened abilities.
âAwe, câmon now gorgeous, you can do better than that,â Fratboy clicks his tongue in mockery. âWhy donât you come sit?âÂ
âIâm sitting with my friendsâÂ
Once again, her tone is as flat and dry as could be. Megumi starts to wonder what Fratboy even wants with her. Besides her personality being insufferable, she clearly isnât interested in whatever heâs offering. How many hints can this guy possibly miss?
âRain check?â Fratboy asks hopefully. It could almost be endearing if it wasnât for the slimy grin he wore. Megumi hated to think it, but (y/n) outranked this guy on every scale.
âYeah. Maybeâ (y/nâs) voice falls to a mumble before she turns and walks away, this time at a faster pace than before.
As she finds her place at her table, she glances over her shoulder, feeling the prickle of someoneâs eyes following her. Megumiâs senses are one step ahead, and heâs quick to drop his head to focus back on his studies again. Heâd already lost five minutes to watch a pointless interaction, he didnât need to lose more time by facing her evil eye if sheâd caught him staring at her.
Idiot, he thinks as he takes a more aggressive bite of his food than necessary. Getting behind on schedule for (y/n) of all people. Â
He pushes the whole thing as far from his mind as he can as he gets back to work. ___
Tokyo had been rather quiet this evening. Not that Megumi was complaining. It was refreshing to see the streets peaceful, even this late into the night.
Eleven oâclock might not be the ideal dinner time for your average person, but for Spiderman, it was the norm. And Megumi liked having a quiet night where he could have a quick street food dinner at the skyline overlooking the whole city. It was peaceful up there. With all the stars out, a perfect breeze coming in, and without the noise of pedestrians out and about down on the streets, Megumi could positively say this was his secret piece of heaven.
Most things about his life were a secret- but this especially he held this place close.
As expected there wasnât a single pesky thought of school on his mind. Like the sky, it was clear and peaceful.
At least it was, until he was mid-bite of his sandwich and he caught sight of something sketchy in his peripheral.
The familiar sensation of the hair on the back of his neck prickling rises when he turns to watch the scene unfold. An unmarked car with blackout windows pulling up behind one of the many small 24-7 convenience stores and a few men with various clown masks getting out of it. He huffs in annoyance, already swinging down and dumping the remainder of his perfectly good sandwich in the trash.
When were these idiots going to learn that robbing a convenience store was never worth it? He wonders as he lands on the roof of the building the men had just gone into. He finds thereâs only one guy left in the car, the getaway driver heâs sure. Pulling his mask over his face heâs swift and silent in webbing up the door handles and tires of the car. He wasnât going anywhere anytime soon.
Just as silently, he drops to the ground, and enters the store.
Itâs not the first time Spiderman has made an appearance during a stick up. And Megumiâs sure it wonât be his last, seeing as no one ever learns.
âWell if it isnât Spiderboyâ One of the three clowns, Megumi assumes the ringleader, taunts him with a laugh. He cocks his gun and aims it at him, but Megumiâs not the slightest bit threatened by a gun. Typical, he thinks.
He barely acknowledges the silent threat at all, instead scoping out the store quickly. Â
Thereâs one man behind the counter, his hands raised and shaking. It appears he hasnât handed over any money yet, which is good. It makes for a quicker and cleaner exit for Megumi.
A couple is cowering behind the first aisle of snacks, trying to peek over the shelves without being seen- theyâre not doing a very good job, but with Spiderman here now Megumi figures theyâve assumed their safety is guaranteed. They arenât wrong.
And then there was a girl in the very back, two aisles behind the couple, and apparently far less brave as well. Sheâs crouched all the way to the ground, her hands clasped tightly over the back of her neck as if this was a tornado drill and not a robbery. At least her head is down, Megumi thinks. Itâs not often he comes across civilians with a decent sense of self preservation.
âDid you hear me, Spiderboy-?â The ringleaderâs second taunt is barely finished before thereâs two webs flying at him. One aimed for the barrel of his gun, covering his mask, gluing it straight to his face and muffling his mouth.
âYeah yeah, I fuckinâ heard you,â Megumi grumbles. Criminals loved to call him all sorts of names, he figured it comes with the job, but man did it get old.
Thereâs two other clowns, lackeys, he supposes. These types hardly worked alone these days. Megumi always wondered if they thought being in numbers would protect them from Spiderman. Again, they never learn.
It takes him all of five seconds to web up their weapons as well. Some glued to their hands and chest, rendering them useless, others so tied up in the sticky string that they couldnât move any limbs if they tried.
âYou think you can go around playing hero and people will respect you for it?â One of the lackeys snarls when Megumi tears the mask from his face. He does the same for the other, but the second clown seems too afraid to speak. Good. âPeople âround here donât give a shit, Spiderboy. You think theyâll thank you? Heh? You think theyâll throw you a nice parade and chant your name?âÂ
Megumi rolls his eyes, patting down his pockets in search of any identifiable information. Like he presumed, he finds a phone and wallet. Sometimes it felt like these guys werenât even trying to get away with their crimes.
Paying the lackey clown no mind, he turns over his shoulder and motions to the couple behind the shelf. They raise their heads a little further, eyes wide and seemingly surprised Spiderman was addressing them.
âItâs safe to go,â He tells them with a wave of his hand. âGo straight to the police station to report thisâÂ
Does he have faith theyâll listen? No, he assumes theyâll be likely to go home. Megumi doesnât care much. The police werenât exactly his allies. But if he was going to do their jobs for them, he was going to have to at least act like he was playing by their rules.
âPlaying nice with the cops, tch,â The loudmouth lackey continues on. âWhen they show up, theyâll take you before they take any of us- mmph!âÂ
âMuch better,â Megumi sighs when his webbing does just the trick to shut the guy up. Will he suffocate with it covering his mouth? Of course not, âBreathe through your nose,â He grumbles when the lackeyâs face starts to take on a blue hue. âFucking idiots, youâre all the fucking sameâ He sighs, dropping the guyâs phone and open wallet on the ground before him, making sure itâs on perfect display for when the cops arrive.
âTh-thank you, Spiderman,â The shopkeeper behind the counter finally begins to lower his hands. It appears heâs still shaking, but Megumiâs sure itâs the adrenaline rush heâs coming down from. Heâll be fine in no time. Especially once the police arrive and whisk these guys away. âI- I donât know how I can repay youâÂ
âIt was nothingâ Megumi replies, monotone as ever, but itâs the truth. The whole ordeal was over in the matter of three minutes. A robbery had barely begun when heâd shown up and shut it down.
The shopkeeper looks startled by the less-than-friendly attitude of his savior, but he doesnât say a word, just picks up his phone to dial up the police.
Megumiâs on the move heading out of the store, ready to make himself scarce before law enforcement shows up, but of course he canât leave just yet.
âHey,â He calls towards the last civilian in the shop, the girl crouched on the ground, still covering herself. âHey,â He calls again when she doesnât react, taking a few steps towards her. âYouâre good to go now,â He says, but even still, she doesnât move.
It takes a tap on her shoulder for her to startle, finally uncovering the back of her head and looking up at him. She stays on the ground, but now Megumiâs stunned to silence as well as he stares back at her.
(y/n)? Heâs grateful for his mask for the millionth time but in a whole new way now. What the hell was she doing out here in the middle of the night?Â
She doesnât say anything as she stares up at him with wide eyes. He canât tell if sheâs still in shock, but the longer he waits for her to say something, she doesnât.
âAre you⌠alright?âÂ
Itâs a normal question to ask, he probably says it a hundred times a night, making sure no oneâs left hurt or afraid. But this time, asking her, it felt foreign coming out of his mouth. Heâs never been put in a position to⌠care⌠about her wellbeing before. But nowâs as good a time as any, seeing as sheâs still got her knees to her chest and a shell shocked look on her face.
âYouâre- youâre Spidermanâ Is the first thing she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Megumi could roll his eyes, but heâs too busy waiting for her to get up and get moving.
âAnd youâre not sitting around here all night, câmonâ He beckons her upwards, and to his surprise she takes it as an offer to grab his hand, and he finds himself pulling her up to her feet.
âYouâre a lot taller than I thought youâd beâ She mumbles, and if she could see his face sheâd watch a look of puzzlement befall him.
âGet that a lotâ He mutters, making an obvious motion to eye the hand that she still has gripping his gloved one.
âOh, sorry,â Sheâs still quiet, quieter than heâs ever heard her speak before, and itâs starting to intrigue him. Â
Was she this afraid of a pesky little robbery? He wondered, looking her up and down. She wasnât trembling, she showed little to no sign of distress at all. For a girl that had nearly gone full armadillo just a few minutes ago, she didnât seem all that afraid.
âIâm just- uh-â She clears her throat, and Megumi thinks itâs the first time heâs ever heard her stammer, or misspeak at all. âIâm a big fanâ She finishes, her quiet voice sounding more shy now than anything else.
Wait, what!?Â
âA fan?â Megumi repeats in disbelief, and (y/n) smiles softly as she nods her head.
âYou donât get that a lot too?â She asks, inching towards speaking at a normal volume.
This is the part where he leaves, and he knows it. The authorities were bound to be close now, and itâd give him more trouble if he was still around when they got here. He couldnât be wasting his time, especially on her.
But he lingers there for a second longer anyways. There was an undeniably curiosity creeping under his skin. Never would he have pegged (y/l/n) (y/n), regular goody-goody, as a Spiderman fan. It had him wondering if there was more to her than met the eye. Â
Maybe she was⌠a normal personâŚ? Could it be true?Â
Flashing lights interrupted his thoughts, his head swiveling to see approaching red and blue
âFuck!â He cursed, and behind him (y/n) covered her mouth to stifle her giggle. Jeez, did she expect some squeaky clean guy to be under the mask? âYouâre fine, right?â He asks her, already stepping away to make his escape.
(y/n) nods her head, still giving him an awestruck look. It makes his face feel hot under his mask. Could she really be this enamored with Spiderman? So much so sheâs rendered speechless.
âRight- well- maybe stop shopping in the middle of the night and you find yourself in these situationsâ He tries to be serious, but she grins as she nods back at him in agreement.
âIâll try my best, SpidermanâÂ
With that heâs out the door and swinging off just before the cops round the corner to the building. Heâd just narrowly missed them, but that was the closest heâd come to getting spotted by them in quite a while. Until then, heâd done a good job making a clean getaway.
He huffs and tugs his mask off of his head when he finds a fire escape distant enough to rest at. Of all the crimes heâs interrupted, that was definitely one for the books. And it had nothing to do with the tacky clown masks or shitty execution.
His chest felt tight, an odd feeling creeping into his bones.
Shit. He still hadnât had a proper dinner. ___
Megumiâs exhausted the next morning when he strolls into class. Heâs five minutes late today, but he tells himself that ten is his limit so heâs still doing just fine. He never gets a second glance from the professor anyways- with his grades? His professor wouldnât care if he didnât show up to class at all.
(y/n), however, cares very much about Megumiâs punctuality.
âWho taught you to be so disrespectful of other peopleâs time, Fushiguro?â She mocks a pout at him, already turned around in her seat to bother him as usual.
Megumi gives her a bored look, maintaining eye contact as he opens his notebook to a fresh page. (y/n) raises a brow impatiently, waiting for some kind of response, but Megumi remains silent. This is fitting for him, he rarely engages in her banter these days, but his silence feels different today. Something about the way he looks at her makes her feel like heâs sizing her up, or something.
âWhat?â The word comes out in a mumble, her brows furrowing as he meets his inquisitive stare with a confused glare.
Megumi purses his lips, shakes his head, taps the eraser of his pencil rhythmically against his notebook.
âNothingâÂ
Itâs all he has to say, and for once (y/n) doesnât have a snarky remark. She just gives him a weird look and faces forward in her seat again. Maybe heâd caught her off guard by actually speaking to her, even if it was just one word, itâs more than heâs given in a while. Pretty much since the spider bite. Engaging in petty arguments seemed pointless after that.
As he takes notes on the lecture of the day, he canât help but be drawn to the back of (y/nâs) head. He didnât like the idea of giving her any of his attention, but his thoughts were drifting out of his control, and he couldnât stop replaying last night in his mind. The way she looked at him, smiled at him, like he was her hero. And now today he was reduced to the dirt under her perfectly clean shoe. It was like he had a secret about her now. There might not be a way for him to dangle it over her head openly⌠but he knew, and for now, that was enough.
By the time class ended, Megumi already had his bag packed up, and he was the first out the door. If he got to the next lesson before her, he could claim a seat in the back where she wouldnât dare be caught sitting. Maybe then he wouldnât get so distracted.
Even with his heightened senses however, he doesnât notice the way (y/n) watches him book it out of the classroom, a knot between her brows at his odd behavior. Because since when has Fushiguro Megumi rushed to class? ___
Itâs hard not to notice Megumi is avoiding her more than usual. She shared almost every class with him, besides one art course she took, (y/n) saw him every hour of the day. It also helped that being the top two of their class they were always seated somewhere near the front, and closer to each other than either one of them would like.
It doesnât bother her that Megumiâs been sitting in the back of the class with the other slackers. She couldnât care less if he decided not to come to class at all- in fact it would be wonderful for her. If his grades slipped just a little bit she could take his spot as top student, a position that was rightfully hers seeing as she was punctual and present in every class. Unlike Megumi, who hardly participated unless asked to, and acted like he couldnât care less about his status.
She always wondered if he truly didnât care about his ranking. He certainly acted like he didnât, rolling his eyes at her comments if he wasnât ignoring her completely. But was it just an act?Â
(y/n) made it an effort not to think any more about Fushiguro Megumi than she had to. But sometimes he made that difficult for her. Like now, when heâs sitting in the back of the class with his blocky headphones on. She canât help but peek over her shoulder at him, eyeing the way he actively took notes from what was on the whiteboard at the front of the class. But how well could he learn if he wasnât even listening?Â
He catches her staring not a second later, his bored blue eyes landing on hers and holding her stare. His expression is unchanging, completely neutral as he stares back at her, but it still feels intense. (y/nâs) quick to shoot her eyes forward and begin scribbling messy words in her otherwise neatly kept notebook. Was it just intense because heâd caught her staring right at him? Her face feels warm, her heartbeat kicks into an anxious pattern.
Clearly, whatever his issue was, she needed to just ignore it completely. He seemed to do just fine doing the same, maybe it was time for her to take a page out of his book and give him the same treatment.
Still, her eyes catch him in every hallway, every class, every moment heâs around, she spots and scans him as if thereâs going to be some hint as to what brought on his change in behavior. ___
A couple of peaceful weeks were well appreciated, but Megumi mustâve taken them for granted, because tonight was a rough one.
He could enjoy a good fight, heâd grown up a fighter, so it all came naturally to him. Right hook, dodge, web, kick, swing- there were just a few extra steps to his hand-to-hand that came from the spider biteâs abilities. To him, that made the act of fighting all the more fun. He wasnât afraid to admit he got a certain rush out of beating someone up. When it was justified, there wasnât a feeling like it.
Getting beat up, however, sucked.
Maybe the guy was on steroids, maybe the adrenaline got to his head and his fight or flight kicked into high gear, Megumi wasnât sure what his deal was, but he certainly took a beating before finally knocking the petty handbag thief out and getting him webbed up for the cops to take care of.
It wasnât till he got away and found an alley secluded enough that he was able to check his injuries. He didnât have to take his mask off to know his head had taken most of the damage. He could taste the blood of his split lip, and feel the hot throbbing behind his eye. Â
Great. Going to class with a black eye wonât draw any attention.
With a groan he leaned back into the brick of one of the surrounding buildings, trying to even out his labored breathing. It wouldnât be a surprise if he found his torso littered with black and blue, too. As much as it hurt, Megumi was more irritated than anything. Hiding injuries was the worst part of his secret double life. College kids always wanted to hear the gnarly stories behind visible cuts and bruises. Megumi only hoped his shitty reputation would be enough to keep people away.
He couldnât sit around for long, there was still a city that needed patrolling, so Megumi kicked off the wall and took a few deep, harsh breaths as he left the alley, ready to go for a swing around the next few blocks to make sure everything was as it should be. Quiet. It was almost one in the morning, most people should be turned in for the night by now.
Just as he reaches the sidewalk and before he can fly off into the air, however, heâs met by a not-quite-stranger.
(y/n) almost runs right into him, speed walking down the sidewalk with her head down, clearly on a mission. Had he stepped out a second later she mightâve crashed into him, but itâs hard for her to not notice the six foot tall man in a head to toe black suit.
For half a second she looks alarmed- rightfully so, a strange man just came out of an alley, if she had half a mind sheâd turn and run without thinking. But as expected, Megumi finds she has no sense of self preservation as she looks at the block in her path with a grin.
âYou againâ She greets him like she knows him now. (She does know him, but she doesnât know she knows him, you know?) And her smile is so genuinely bright that Megumi starts to feel sick.
âAgain,â He sighs, the groan in his voice not going unnoticed. âDidnât I tell you not to walk around alone this late at night?â His voice still sounds weird, and itâs shortly after that (y/n) notices his hand hovering over his ribcage.
âDid you get hurt, or something?â She ignores him completely, all the while putting her phone in her pocket to give him her full attention.
âIâm Spiderman, I donât get hurtâ Megumi argues, but the wince in his voice is obvious, and (y/n) somehow sees right through it.
âOkay⌠well⌠even Spiderman has to go to urgent care sometimes, right?â She tries to be lighthearted, but her smile is wavering now, concern seeping into her features.
Megumi can barely stand to look at her. What is she doing? Staring at him like that, like she knows him, like she cares about him. Canât she just go the fuck home where itâs safe and more importantly: away from him?
âTch, I donât think soâ He mutters.
(y/n) frowns.
âSpoken like a true idiot man,â She scolds. Jeez, last time they crossed paths like this sheâd said she was a fan, now this? âWhat is it with you guys and your reputations, huh? Youâre not any stronger for toughing out an injury without help, you knowâÂ
âIâll keep that in mind, momâ Megumi argues back. She scoffs, but it turns into a small laugh shortly after.
âYou could at least put ice on it, you knowâ She says, stepping past him and continuing on her way down the sidewalk. Megumi tosses his head back to silently curse at the sky.
âDid I not make myself clear that you should go home?â He calls after her.
âIce is this wayâ Is all (y/n) says, and all she has to say to get him to groan at nothing in particular and follow after her.
Itâs a good thing itâs so late at night, thereâs no one to see Spiderman walking around with some random girl. Surely the papers would have a hay day if even a photo was snapped⌠he doesnât even want to think about what kind of headlines theyâd come up with.
âI can buy my own iceâ He tells her after a minute of walking in silence.
âI know,â (y/n) shrugs. âBut so far it seems like youâre letting me hang out with you, so Iâve gotta enjoy it just a little bit longerâÂ
âWeâre not hanging out,â Megumi replies dryly. âYouâre refusing to go home when itâs the middle of the night and IâmâŚâ He trails off, not wanting to say what heâs thinking, but he doesnât have to.
âAwe, Spideyâs lookinâ out for me?â Sheâs smiling at him again, holding her hands behind her back as she looks up at him. âYou starting to like me?âÂ
âYouâre starting to bother me,â Megumi quips back, but itâs followed by a chuckle he canât help, and it only seems to endear (y/n) further. âI donât usually give people follow up warnings,â He mutters with a shake of his head. âWhatâre you doing out this late, anyways?â He asks before he can help it. âDonât you have, like, school, or something?â Itâs difficult to act like he doesnât know she spends her nights studying herself to death.
âMaybe Iâm going to a partyâ (y/n) shrugs.
âTch, no youâre notâÂ
âHow do you know?âÂ
âNot dressed like thatâ Megumi comments, making a point to look her up and down.
(y/n) huffs, but thereâs no denying the evidence right in front of them both. Sheâs wearing leggings that were at least a couple years old, and a large sweatshirt that was teetering the line of well loved and ratty. Â
âOkay, well, maybe this time Iâm notâ She says, and Megumi bites back a smile. Heâs pretty sure that a girl like (y/l/n) (y/n) has never stepped foot in a house party. And he knows because he hasnât, either.
âStill not an answerâ He reminds her.
âI was going to pick up some energy drinks,â (y/n) finally admits. âItâs a short walk from my apartment to the corner store, I do it all the time. Even without Spiderman watching over meâÂ
He chuckles at that, wondering just how many times sheâs made the walk, no matter how short, in the middle of the night. Couldnât she just get them before she goes home for the day?
âAnd you just have to go in the middle of the night?â He scolds her, but she doesnât seem too affected by it.
âThatâs when I need them the mostâ She replies with a shrug.
âYou always drink energy drinks that late?âÂ
âWhat, you worried about me or something?â She fires back, a curious look on her face. âYâknow, I havenât heard much about you talking to peopleâÂ
âI donâtâÂ
âYouâre talking to meâ She points out matter of factly, a tone of hers that Megumi was already far too familiar with.
âYouâre kind of leaving me no choiceâÂ
(y/nâs) quiet for a moment, and it seems like sheâs contemplating something, but whatever it is she doesnât let him in on, instead smiling and turning her attention to the sidewalk as they walk.
Megumi ducks into the alley next to the convenience store when (y/n) goes in. Heâs unceremonious as he drops himself to the ground, sighing in relief to be off of his feet. His hand presses into his ribcage at a weak attempt to relieve the pain as he twists to try and find a comfortable position to sit in. He doesnât want (y/n) to come back and see him in any sort of pain- it wasnât a good look for Spiderman to show any sign of weakness.
Sheâs quick to return, a plastic bag in one hand and a frozen bag of vegetables in the other. Even behind the mask she must understand that heâs pulling a face at her, because she huffs in annoyance.
âThey didnât have iceâ She explains, inviting herself to squat down next to him and offer up the vegetables.
âNo no, youâre not sitting here,â Megumi bites back a whine when he sits upright in an attempt to urge her to leave. âYou need to go back homeâÂ
âAnd miss a personal Q&A with Spiderman?â She replies, a small smile on her face when he finally snatches the vegetables out of her hand. He grumbles a string of incoherent curses as he rests it over where the bruising feels the worst.
âThatâs not happeningâ He mutters.
âThis is why I never hear about you talking to people,â (y/n) sighs. âYouâre boringâÂ
âIâm not boring,â He argues. âI just donât have anything to sayâÂ
âWell, you could start by thanking me for the veggiesâ (y/n) replies, tilting her head at him.
Megumi glares at her from behind his mask. He didnât need to reminder of her insufferable personality. But⌠watching her smile so softly at him, like she would love nothing more than a thank you from Spiderman⌠maybe itâs just because heâs injured, but Megumi caves.
âThank youâ It comes out from behind his teeth, and she must know it, but Megumi swears he sees stars in her eyes.
âYouâre welcome, Spiderman,â She murmurs back.
It comes out so genuine, so sweet, that thereâs a pang in Megumiâs heart. He doesnât think any of the bruising spread so far up his chest, but it mustâve for him to feel such an odd sensation.
âI have to ask⌠cause I probably wonât see you againâŚâ Her eyes land on the way his hand tenses and presses the frozen vegetables further against himself. âWhy do you do it?âÂ
When he doesnât answer, she blinks at him, moving her head just enough to tell him that she really wanted him to say something.
Megumi figures she wonât leave him alone if he doesnât say anything, so he goes with the truth.
âItâs the right thing to doâÂ
He shrugs lamely, and it takes a second for her to react at all. At first itâs a furrow of her brows and a knowing smile, as if he just had to have an answer better than that. But she didnât know him as well as she liked to think, because she didnât know Megumi. Â
When he has nothing else to say, her expression slowly softens, and she hums thoughtfully.
âThatâs it, huh?â She muses. âYouâre just⌠a good guy?âÂ
Just a guy, Megumi mentally corrects. He might have heightened abilities, and a better sense of right and wrong than those around him, but heâs never considered himself a hero. Just a guy trying to make things right, trying to keep people safe.
âGuess I try to beâ His answer is as lame as his movements. Â
If he were a superhero, heâd need some help with PR, but somehow, this makes him all the more special to (y/n). She brightens, leans in closer and sets her hand over his, where heâs still holding the cold vegetables.
âCan I tell you something, Spiderman?âÂ
Hasnât she been talking to him this whole time? If it wouldnât hurt, Megumi would laugh. Instead he just nods his head and waits for her to continue.
âI want to be a journalist because of you,âÂ
What? Megumiâs face warps into shock at the confession. He didnât know what he was expecting, but it wasnât that. She was on track to be a graduate of the sciences, whichever one she ended up choosing anyways. He always saw her becoming some wealthy astro-physist or some shit. She wanted to give up all of her work in those programs to⌠write?Â
âAn investigative journalist,â She corrects. âI want to write about the things that matter, and- and I want to be honest, you know? I want people to read my articles and know theyâre being handed the truth. Thereâs not a lot of that around these daysâŚâ She trails off. Â
She didnât have to tell him about the light Spiderman was painted in. Letâs just say him and Megumi would share the popularity rankings⌠except no one was raising pitchforks and torches in Megumiâs direction.
âYou want to do that âcause of me?â Megumi asks, curiosity getting the best of him.
(y/n) nods, trying to bite back her smile but it was still as clear as day.
âIâll write my first article about you,â She promises, and Megumiâs eyes widen at her sincerity. âIf youâll let meâÂ
âWell youâre not getting an interviewâ He says, only half joking. (y/n) laughs quietly.
For a moment, he gets that glimpse into her again. The same one he felt the night of the convenience store robbery. There was something in her eye heâd never seen before. Something soft, and real. It dawns on him that he very well may be the only person sheâs told about this dream of hers. He wants to ask, but it feels wrong, like heâs prying for something.
âI wonât need one,â She tells him. âCanât have the people knowing I know youâÂ
âYou donât know meâ Megumi replies, maybe too quickly, but he canât help it. Â
He tilts his head at her as she gazes at him with too much fondness. Was his reminder that heâs a stranger to her not enough? Sure, she could trust him because he was Spiderman, her safety wasnât compromised, but that didnât mean she needed to go confiding in him like this.
Besides, the look she was giving him was making him feel hot, like he was about to break into a sweat.
âI donât knowâŚâ She murmurs thoughtfully. âI just have this feeling⌠like I doâÂ
That has him leaping into panic mode. That was it, this was done. If he saw her again while he was in this suit, he was going to turn and swing the other direction. She couldnât be saying things like that, she couldnât be trying to put the pieces together in her mind. If she were to figure him out, heâd be done for. She put a lot of trust in him tonight, but could he trust her for even a minute? Megumi wasnât sure, and he didnât care to find out.
As far as he was concerned, this was the last time he was going to talk to her. He was right to avoid her after the first time- it should have been the last time, but it was too late for that now.
âYou should goâ He says, pushing himself to stand even through grunts of pain. She looks at him with worry, brows knitted and lips in a frown as she follows him up to her feet.
âWait,âÂ
She calls to stop him, despite having nothing else to say to him. Well, there were a million things she wanted to say to him, but none of that felt appropriate now. She didnât really expect him to stand there and hear her out, but he is, and now her mouth is running dry and sheâs standing before him frozen. He radiates impatience, without having to say a single word.
âI⌠I didnât thank you,â She stammers out. Itâs unlike her, but it canât be helped. Sheâs always had a little fan-crush on Spiderman since he made his appearance on the news, but after actually being around him that seemed to blossom into a very real crush, even if sheâs never seen his face. She can feel a blush heating up her face when she speaks. âFor the other night, with- with the robbery,â She clarifies, even though she didnât have to. âSo⌠thank youâÂ
Megumi hesitates a moment longer, almost expecting her to say something else. She looks like she wants to, her face is growing pink and her hands have begun fiddling with the bag of her energy drinks. But she remains quiet.
He gives her a nod, before handing over the bag of vegetables. (y/n) laughs under her breath as she takes it. Itâs lost all of itâs cold, merely a room temperature bag of carrots and peas by now. Sheâs not sure what sheâs supposed to do with it, but she supposes it wouldnât look good for Spiderman to swing around with it.
âYouâre welcome,â He tells her, and it sounds like the most earnest thing heâs had to say to her. Heâs always come across as blunt, something (y/n) was surprised by when they first met, but now itâs a blessing. She knows that he means it. âGet home. Donât make me have to tell you again, alright?âÂ
To Megumi, this is a goodbye. He doesnât intend to see her again, not like this. It was⌠interesting, while it lasted, but it could never actually last. It needed to be over before things could get any worse⌠or she could get any closer to figuring out his identity.
âIâll try my best, SpidermanâÂ
Itâs the same thing sheâd left him with before. She wonders if he catches it. With that, Megumi shoots a web and swings off into the night, his black suit blending easily into the night sky.
He did. ___
(y/n) was always punctual, to everything, not just class. But today she found herself in her favorite seat a whole ten minutes early. She hadnât meant to show up before the professor, but she just couldnât contain her energy today. Sheâd woken up before her alarm, got showered, dressed and dolled up in record time, ate a small breakfast on her walk to school, and now here she was. Full of energy as if it wasnât eight in the morning. Call it waking up on the right side of the bedâŚ
⌠or having an interesting night that she couldnât get out of her head.
Never in her wildest dreams did she think that sheâd run into Spiderman again. The first time was a little embarrassing, sheâd come close to being called a victim, but the second time just happened by chance. It had her heart racing, her face warming, her lips smiling- hell, she was giddy.
He wasnât anything like sheâd thought heâd be, but that just made him all the more enticing to her. He was blunt, maybe even a little crass for a masked hero, but every interaction sheâd had with him drew her in more. Â
Sheâd meant what she said about getting into journalism, sheâd even been looking into transferring her credits next year, even if it meant starting over in a completely new program. Last night, sheâd spent her time in bed staring at the ceiling and replaying events in her mind. When she wasnât doing that, she was mentally writing her first article about The Spiderman.
The Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman had a nice ring to it, she thought. Although she had a feeling that he would laugh at the title of Friendly. Or maybe roll his eyes. It was hard to tell with the mask.
Before she knew it, she found herself doodling said mask at the corner of a fresh page in her notebook. She lifted her pen instantly, surprised at just how zoned out sheâd become. There were never doodles in her notebooks. They were perfectly kept, clean, organized, conside, and without any extra graffiti.
She supposes this doodle can stay, though⌠she had done a rather good job at drawing it, it would be a pity if it went to wasteâŚ
Students begin to file into the class and setting up their laptops and notebooks at the desks surrounding her. Without any friends in this class thereâs no one for her to talk to, or share the story of her night with.
Then again, sheâs not sure she wants to tell anyone about her run in with Spiderman. She hadnât mentioned it before⌠although that was because she didnât need anyone fussing over her being out so late and putting her safety in jeopardy. This time was different, but stillâŚÂ
It felt more special if she kept it to herself.
Today, Megumi comes to class twelve minutes late. She eyes the clock above the doorway just as he ducks in to check the time, but her eyes just as quickly dart back to his figure. Itâs hard not to, with the dark purple shiner standing out against the pale skin of his face.
Her eyes flit around the room, just to see if anyone else noticed the state of their late arrival, but every other student seemed too wrapped up in the lesson, and their professor was too deep in his lecture to give Megumi the slightest of attention. To everyone else, Megumi was late as usual. As (y/n) looked at him again, she had an inkling he was the only one who noticed his black eye.
He knew he was going to draw attention, clearly, seeing as his hoodie was up over his unruly hair and his head was down. But he mustâve sensed (y/nâs) eyes on him, because when he looked up it was directly at her.
He was moving to the back of the class again, probably to take that corner desk with the graphite engravings all over it. It would be alarming if she were to say anything to him, although sheâs not even sure what she would say. Asking him if he was alright felt weird, and itâs not like she could just shout âwhat the fuck!?â in the middle of class.
All she could do was stare at him as he took his seat, pull out his notebook, and begin notetaking as usual, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Sheâs completely turned around in her seat now, still watching him, even though she was missing valuable points of the lesson now. It was hard to pull her attention away- it was weird that no one else seemed to notice him at all.
Where could he have possibly gotten that from? She frowned, despite Megumi ignoring her completely. She was sure that she wouldâve heard about him getting into another fight on campus- last time she was getting texts about it while she was reading all the tweets about it. Fights were hot news around here, and if Megumi was involved in a second one, she surely couldnât have missed it.
Right?Â
Finally, his eyes catch hers. She doesnât turn away from him like she had in the past, she holds his stare, trying to communicate with him in silence.
Itâs obvious to him, sheâs looking at him with that same worried face sheâd worn last night. She just didnât know she was worried about the same person. He raises his eyebrows at her expectantly, as though asking âwhat?â. As though nothing were out of the ordinary at all.
Her lips curl into a frown, almost a pout, and Megumi has half a mind to flip her off to get her to leave him alone. Even in silence, even from opposite sides of the room, she seems to find some way to get under his skin.
He doesnât, though. Just holds her stare for a minute longer before putting all of his attention into his notetaking.
Megumi told himself that he was done with her, and he was going to be true to his word. Whether he was in the suit or not, he couldnât have anything to do with (y/l/n) (y/n). Being around her just made things feel⌠complicated. He couldnât pinpoint why, but he didnât want to. He just wanted the feeling to go away.
She sits turned around in her seat even once heâs clearly begun to ignore her again. He can feel her eyes on him, see her watching him out of his peripheral vision as if she was going to figure him out through her stare alone.
He was only pretty sure that she couldnât.
Eventually she turns around in her seat, but the bouncing of her leg is driving him insane even from across the class. It was like all he could hear- the faint tap of her shoe tapping the linoleum floor. It was louder than the lecture, than the squeak of the marker on the whiteboard, or the students smacking their gum or tapping their desks. His ears focused on it for the remainder of class, effectively ruining his note taking ability.
Heâs out of his seat once class is over, snatching his things and not bothering to put them in his bag as he bolts for the door. Thereâs an itch in his mind telling him to distance himself from (y/n) as fast as he can. The inkling was right, because he doesnât make it far in the hall before his name is being called.
âFushiguro!âÂ
A few surrounding students glance in her direction, some even snicker in passing. Megumi wasnât someone anyone chased after, and certainly never a girl. If this were still high school, his sister would ooh and ahh at him before skipping away, plotting to tease him for it later. But this wasnât high school, and when he turned around to face (y/n), anyone who was watching made themselves scarce fast.
He doesnât say anything as she approaches him, the strap of her messenger bag held tight in both hands against her chest. Â
She opens her mouth, ready to make a smartass comment, but it comes out awkward, not quite right.
âLate to class again cause of a fight, or something?â Even her scoff comes out wrong, sounding like a nervous laugh, strangled and weird. She shifts her weight between her feet.
Megumiâs silent for a long few seconds. Every one that passes feels like eternity, and (y/n) deflates a little more under his stare.
âSureâ He shakes his head, not caring what she wanted to assume about him. If she wanted to think he was that kind of guy, all the better. Spiderman didnât get into fights before going to class, so the further he could separate himself from him in her mind, the better.
She frowns at his answer, and it looks like sheâs actually upset when she stares directly at his dark eye. It looks pretty bad, he knows that. The swelling he could take care of, but the dark purple was another thing. Right now though, heâs more concerned about the way she seems to worry.
âSeriously, Fuhiguro,â She says quietly, hoping to get through to him. Â
Sheâs not sure what it is that came over her, but something about seeing him walk into class looking like this made her heart lurch in her chest.
âWhat happened? Who did that?âÂ
âI fell,â He says dryly, earning a short glare from her. He sighs, shutting his eyes to mask his annoyance before it got the best of him. âSorry I donât have an interesting story for you- can I go to class now?âÂ
âSuddenly Mr Punctual?â She snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest. Megumi huffs, shakes his head, uncaring toward her attitude.
âWhateverâ He starts to turn away, but she catches him off guard when she rushes to block his path again. Â
Megumi actually startles when she budges in front of him, having to step back to remove her from his personal space. His wide eyes land on hers, annoyance furrowing his brows as he stares down at her. Sheâs defiantly raising her chin towards him, eyes narrowed and everything.
âIâm actually asking, you know,â She tells him. âBecause no one else is walking around with black eyes-âÂ
âWho cares?â Megumi tries to step out of her way, but she slides in front of him again. The traffic in the hallway is thinning, they would both be late for their next class if she kept this up. âDonât you have a class to be early for?â He hopes thatâs enough to get her to back off.
âI donât care,â She says with enough assurance that Megumiâs actually surprised. He figured being late to class would throw her into a full breakdown. âWhy are you being such a dick about this?âÂ
He scoffs, a bitter smile tugging on his lips, only making him wince as it tears the healing wound.
âWhy are you?â He fires back.
âBecause,â She says it with such certainty, only to fall short with the rest of her reason. She didnât know exactly why she felt like someone needed to check in on him, but she knew that she did, and maybe she was the only one who noticed anything was wrong in the first place. âBecause⌠because itâs the right thing to doâÂ
Megumi freezes up at that. All of his muscles go rigid, his jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker over her features rapidly, trying to find any crack in her sincerity. Was she seriously throwing his words back at him right now? Just because of a black eye?Â
Meanwhile (y/n) feels good about her answer. Sheâd picked it up from a man she admired so much and it felt right. There was no real reason, just a feeling. She had no idea what emotional turmoil she was putting him through right now.
â(y/n), seriouslyâŚâ Megumi shakes his head at her. He steps to the side again, but doesnât leave right away. Her eyes follow his, waiting for him to continue. He hates that she looks so genuinely worried about him. Hates the way it makes his heart race and his fingers tremble. He has to force words out of his throat. âLeave me aloneâÂ
Her face falls, but heâs quick to leave once he says it, and this time, she doesnât chase after him again. ___
In the rest of their classes, she doesnât try to talk to him again, and does her best not to look his way. Megumiâs relieved⌠he thinks. Itâs for the best that everything returns to normal. Whatever compelled her to reach out to him today was clearly Spidermanâs doing, and he couldnât have that. Things couldnât change. His feelings of distaste towards her couldnât change. He couldnât start feeling⌠differently.
With his hood on and his headphones blasting music enough to drown out the noise of the cafe, Megumi tries to catch up on what heâd missed during his first lecture, which was the entirety of his first lecture. Luckily his professor tended to drone on word for word from the textbook, and he could catch up by reading.
Unluckily, it doesnât take much for him to get sidetracked from his studies. He wants to kick himself when something compels him to look up, only to find (y/n) at Fratboyâs table again.
This again, he tells himself, certain heâll go right back to his textbook. But he doesnât move. His focus stays entirely on the table of jocks, without a shred of discretion, to make things worse.
âNot todayâ (y/nâs) saying when he tunes into the conversation. Does this guy always ask her to sit at his table for lunch? Is he that oblivious? Megumi chews on the inside of his cheek. Youâd think heâd try to avoid the idiot jock stereotype a little better.
âCâmon princess, itâs never âtodayâ. Why donât you just say yes to âtomorrowâ, hm?â Fratboy leans out of his seat, reaching his hand out towards her. (y/n) takes a step backwards, but heâs faster, snatching her by the wrist and pulling her towards the table again.
Megumi bristles, watching the situation with the eyes of a hawk. If looks could kill, this wouldâve been enough to get Fratboyâs hand off of her. Even if he wasnât hurting you, it was unwanted, that much was clear just by watching her body language.
âI really donât feel that way about you,â (y/n) snaps, tugging her arm to get herself out of his grasp. He doesnât release right away, and Megumi almost gets to his feet, but with a second tug he lets go of her, and (y/n) takes a large step back, keeping both arms close to her body in case he tries to reach for her again. âLeave me aloneâ She barks at him, turning to walk away.
If Fratboy says something else to her, Megumi misses it. His focus is dialed up to one hundred, and as soon as (y/n) separated herself from him, Megumi hadnât paid a second glance to Fratboy at all. He wonders how long sheâd felt his watchful eyes before she actually turned towards him. Her eyes skirt around the cafe for a second, trying to find where the prickling feeling of being watched was coming from, and it doesnât take long for her to find him. Her bitter expression softens when she spots him, an odd feeling replacing the discomfort of being talked down to and manhandled.
Maybe because as soon as Fratboy follows her line of sight and sees Megumiâs hard stare set in his direction, he turns towards his table again and quickly engages himself with his friends, not bothering (y/n) with even a second glance. She watches this unfold, before looking back at Megumi again, curiously. Despite her being left alone now, heâs still staring at her, maybe waiting to see that sheâll get to her table without being bothered again, sheâs not sure.
Either way, she grows still under his direct gaze. She didnât know how to describe it, but sheâs sure sheâs never had anyone look at her like that. With an otherwise neutral expression, there was so much anger behind Megumiâs eyes that if she didnât know better, she might be just as afraid as Fratboy. However something told her not to be, something told her that the anger wasnât directed towards her. It takes a great deal of effort for her to turn her back on him and head towards her table, but even as she walks away she canât help but glance back at him again. Heâs already returned to his book by then, but her intrigue doesnât end there. She spends the rest of her lunch in near silence while surrounded by her friends, her thoughts too busy for her to keep up with meaningless chit chat and gossip.
That night (y/n) wanders the sidewalk between her apartment and the convenience store up and down until her feet are too tired to carry her anymore. She walks the familiar path, back and forth, over and over, between the hours of ten and two, her eyes fixed on the sky, peeking down alleyways, her fingers crossed, her heart racing. Nothing comes of her walk. She returns home with a sense of disappointment, and a will to try it again. ___
Megumiâs growing tired of this game of hers. Heâs not sure why she insists on doing this every night, it had been four nights now and she had nothing to show for it, so why was she still out there pacing the sidewalk like a maniac?Â
It took all of his energy to patrol the streets and keep an eye on one particular sidewalk- one particular girl. He was one guy. Did she really think this was safe for either of them? He very well could be missing a crime happening two blocks over because heâs too busy checking in on where sheâs chosen to wander. Did she really think this was enough to capture his attention?Â
Well, it had caught his attention, seeing as every other five minutes he was swinging back in this direction to make sure she was still alive down there.
Was she trying to learn a lesson the hard way? Megumi spent his time watching her with bitterness. She was smarter than this, he knew it, so what the hell was she thinking?
Deep down heâd already confirmed his worries, but heâd hoped that sheâd give this stunt up eventually. He still saw her around school, even if sheâd stopped bothering him, he could see the toll that staying up like this was taking on her. She always had an energy drink or a coffee on her desk, and Megumi doesnât think heâs ever seen her look so disheveled. It had him wondering if this was starting to impact her grades, too.
This is why he shouldnât have spoken with her the last time. He shouldâve swung off in the opposite direction. Because now she was on his mind, she had him worrying, swinging all around the block she was pacing while trying to keep an eye on the rest of the city- it was exhausting for him, too.
He shouldnât be sitting here worrying about her sleep, or her grades. His bottom line should be safety. And she was safe. So why couldnât he just leave her be?Â
With a groan he stops his swinging to land on one of the surrounding buildings. He rips his mask off his head, groaning through his irritation before raking his hands through his already messy hair. She was driving him crazy, and he was sure that she knew it too. This little back and forth walk of hers, she was taunting him with it. Â
Throwing himself down to sit on the edge of the building, Megumi peers over his knees to check on her yet again. Sheâs slowed her pace, which hopefully means sheâs getting tired and will return to her apartment soon.
With a huff, he props his head in his hand, wondering what he was going to do about this. It wasnât as easy to make her hate Spiderman as it was to make her hate Megumi. Hell, it might not be a bad idea to just reveal his identity to her, sheâd probably want to forget about Spiderman all together, then.
Of course, that was a stupid idea, but Megumi was fresh out of good ones.
When he lifts his head again, compelled by some invisible force to check just one more time that she was alright, heâd looked just in time. He barely had the time to pull his mask back on his head before he was leaping off the building and swinging down towards her, half flying and half falling through the air as fast as he could to get to her before whatever figure lurking around the corner could.
Shit, shit, shit.
It happens so fast, sheâs lucky she didnât pee herself from the whole thing. Sheâd just reached the end of her pace, about to turn around and wander the other direction when she finally saw a very unsettling figure come around the corner. With disheveled clothing and a stagger that sent up warning flags of intoxication, (y/n) instantly stopped in her tracks, and started to shuffle backwards.
He never said a word to her, but from looks alone she got the feeling of what he was thinking. Nothing good.
However before she could get herself to start running, someone else came into view.
Thereâs barely a second for her to show her relief when Spiderman shows up, seemingly out of nowhere. Sheâs not sure his feet even touched the ground before he had an arm around her and was swinging off again. He doesnât have to tell her to hold on, she just clings, with all her might, she winds her arms around his neck and keeps her knees locked on either side of his hips. Â
The sensation of swinging through the air is not the one she always dreamed of enjoying- the wind is harsh, whipping her hair around all directions and snapping against her face unpleasantly. Even with her face buried against her saviorâs chest, the cold air nips at her.
Even once heâs clearly landed, it takes some prompting for her to let go of him, and open her eyes.
When she does, she barely gets to open her mouth before heâs laying into her, and she shouldâve seen it coming, but she canât help but deflate.
âWhat the hell were you thinking!?âÂ
Heâs yelling, and at first she wonders if heâs worried about people seeing, but a quick glance at her surroundings and she realizes theyâre on the roof of a building. No one would be hearing them here.
âWere you seriously trying to get yourself into trouble? Because you were about this close to it,â He raises his pinched fingers for emphasis, but gives her no time to answer. âYou better not have done something so stupid just cause of me-âÂ
âI didnât- well- well I didnât necessarilyâ (y/n) tries to explain, but the words just arenât coming as fast as her mouth is moving and sheâs left gaping at him. Â
Megumi was not putting up with it. What did he have to do to get it through her head?Â
âI canât be spending my nights keeping an eye on just you because you feel like putting yourself in harmâs way for a fucking rush,â He snaps. âYou pull shit like that again (y/n) and Iâm not going to be there next time, you understand?âÂ
Her mouth shuts. She nods her head.
âJesus Christ,â Megumi puts his hands to his head, turning and walking off as if they werenât stranded on top of a building.
Well, (y/n) was stranded. Spiderman had the means of getting himself anywhere.
She wants to follow him, but instinct tells her to stay put while he paces and continues to scold her.
âYouâre goddamn lucky I was there, you know that?â Heâs not even looking at her, but she nods her head again anyways. She knows. âI should really go back there and beat the shit out of that guyâ He starts to mutter to himself, going on incoherently, and (y/nâs) blood starts to run cold.
âHe- I mean, he didnât do anythingâ She mumbles, her voice hardly above a whisper, but he seems to hear her just fine, stopping in his tracks and turning his head towards her.
âAre you serious?âÂ
Her mouth opens and closes a few times before any words come out.
âItâs not like he⌠he said anything, or did anything to meâ She clarifies. Spidermanâs mask is incapable of expression, but she had a feeling the man behind it was glaring at her. She could feel that familiar prickle of a harsh stare.
Itâs silent for a long moment before he finally turns completely towards her and walks back in her direction. She keeps her feet firmly planted, willing herself not to back away or cower, but having him come stand so close to her had her throat closing up. He towered over her so much she had to lean her head back to look up at his mask. If he was going to yell, she was bound to flinch.
âYou have no idea what he was capable of doing,â He doesnât yell. In fact his voice is so eerily low she almost shivers. âIf you want to gamble your life on some drunken lowlifeâs imagination, thatâs your business,â He adds, and she blinks away the tears welling up in her eyes as the gravity of the situation really sunk in with his words. âBut at least have the decency to do it far away from me. Because if it were up to me Iâd go back there and kill that guy right nowâÂ
She blinks a few more times, but still, a tear slips down her cheek.
âI-Iâm sorry,â She whispers shakily, the lump in her throat growing hotter when she tries to speak. âI didnât- I wasnât trying to- I-âÂ
Megumi sighs as more tears begin to fall from her eyes. Her brain was playing catchup and it was clear she was too tired to handle any of this right now.
âItâs alright,â He says, but itâs obviously not enough to calm her down, so against his better judgment, he tries his hand at comforting her. âHey, câmon, youâre alright,â Reaching out to her, he hesitates before placing his hands on either side of he face, wiping her tears away on the soft material of gloves. âBreathe,â He instructs quietly, and waits as her shudders slowly morph into slow, heavy breaths. âThere you go, thatâs it. Youâre alright,â He tries to remind her that where she is now, sheâs safe. âYouâre hereâÂ
It takes a few more deep breaths, but eventually he steers her clear of a full blown panic attack, and her heartbeat returns to a normal pace.
With one last deep breath, (y/n) closes her eyes on her exhale, and Megumi finally drops his hands from her head, sure that she isn't going to start back up again.
âI have trouble sleeping,â She tells him quietly, her eyes focused on the ground. âIt started in high school, I uh⌠Iâm kind of a nerd, I guess,â She admits. âMy parents really cared about my grades and success and I guess I just⌠went with it. Started staying up through the night to study and get ahead the rest of my class and⌠never dropped the habitâÂ
Megumi softens, although sheâd never know it.
âThat doesnât sound so healthy,â He says quietly, not knowing what else to say. She scoffs, smiles bitterly, shakes her head back at him. âWe should get you back home, yeah?âÂ
Realizing what he meant, she looks back at him with a wince, and he canât help the small chuckle at her reaction.
âItâll be alright. Iâll take it easy, promiseâ He says, crossing his finger over his chest for emphasis.
âWhat, like Iâm gonna find some way to sue Spiderman?â She mutters back.
He holds his arms out to her, carefully grabbing her by the forearms to loop them around his neck.
âJust hold on and keep your head down, itâll be over before you know itâÂ
Her face heats up when his arm comes around her back and he presses her even closer. She canât stop her squeak of surprise before it comes out, and it must startle him, because heâs quick to ask her if sheâs okay.
âYeah I- Iâm fineâ She stammers back, feeling her blush grow hotter.
Megumi takes off without a warning, thinking itâll be easier to rip it off like a bandaid than to count down before a jump. All of her limbs tighten around him, forgetting about modesty as soon as theyâre in the air. She presses her face as far into his shoulder as she can to keep herself blinded from the surrounding area. Until now, she wouldnât have said she was afraid of heights.
Sheâs at least able to give him her address, a shaky whisper in his ear before sheâs buried into his shoulder again.
When he lands on her fire escape, he helps her to her feet, trying not to chuckle at how wobbly she is.
âDonât get sick on the suit, you have no idea how much of a pain it is to dry clean this thingâ He tries to lighten the mood, and is surprised that heâs successful in doing so, earning a small laugh from her.
âYou say that to all the girls you swing home, Spidey?âÂ
âNot a fan of the nickname. Or the insinuationâ Heâs back to his usual dry self in no time.
âWell you have to have a nickname, weâre friends now, arenât we?âÂ
Heâs supposed to leave now. He should leave now. This was exactly what he was afraid of happening, her getting attached. That burden was only on her of course, there wasnât a chance Megumi was going to get drawn in when it comes to her, not when he knew the consequences.
âSpideman already is a nicknameâ He mutters like itâs obvious. Â
(y/n) letâs out a breathless laugh, and tosses her messy windswept hair behind her shoulders. Â
Megumi hasnât left yet, why isnât he leaving?Â
âWell, then there must be some other name I could call you..?â She trails off with her question, stepping forward and eyeing him curiously. Â
Megumiâs frozen. Was she really suggesting he reveal himself to her? Obviously he couldnât do thatâŚ
âIâd just like to thank you, again,â She says, a small smile on her lips as she takes another step forward. Â
If heâs not leaving, Megumi knows he most definitely needed to step away from her before she could press any closer. Carrying her to swing her home was one thing, that was closeness out of necessity, but this- this was too much, and he was freezing up.
âAnd, um, properly,â She adds in a soft murmur, her eyes flickering over his mask. Â
He briefly wonders what sheâs looking for, but itâs quickly answered when she reaches up towards him, her fingers brushing the space between his mask and the rest of the suit. Itâs fitted so well itâs nearly impossible for someone to find the disconnect between the two- unless of course youâre standing directly in front of him, which she was.
He doesnât move, doesnât say a word, but the gulp he swallows is visible to her with how close she is. The tips of her fingers barely slip under the material of his mask, they graze his skin in a touch featherlight yet searing hot.
Without any indication from him that she should stop, curiosity gets the best of her and she carefully begins to slide the mask upwards, her eyes excitedly watching the expanse of his now exposed neck. Almost as pale as the moonlight, she drank up the sight of his skin as if it was a completely new sight to her.
When she gets to his chin, his hand snatches her wrist. Itâs a quick action, but surprisingly gentle. He barely grips her arm, his touch merely a warning.
âYou shouldnâtâ He says, the lump in his bobbing throat preventing him from saying anything more.
She looks up into the expanse of white that made for the compelling eyes of the mask. Wondering if she was making proper eye contact with him, she shakes her head reassuringly.
âI wonât go too much further,â She murmurs. Followed by an even softer, âPromiseâÂ
His better judgment clean out the window, Megumi lets go of her hand, and allows her to proceed.
Using both hands now, she bunched up the end of the material until she was able to gather it at his nose where it would stay put, leaving everything from his neck to the tip of his nose on display for her.
She smiles at him, almost knowingly, and it makes him nervous. Everything about this makes him nervous, this cold sweat she was putting him through was torture. Even more so when her fingers begin to softly trace over the exposed parts of his skin.
âI knew you were handsomeâ She whispers shyly, but her eyes glimmer with excitement.
Megumi chuckles, the corners of his lips barely quirking into a smile, prompting her to hover the pad of her thumb over them as well. She doesnât quite touch his lips, too cautious of the healing cut over the bottom one.
âHow could you know such a thing?â He mumbles, keeping his voice low out of worry that sheâd recognize it without the muffle of his mask.
âI donât know,â She giggles softly. âYour voice, maybe. And youâre tallâÂ
âI donât think you have very good standardsâ Megumi murmurs.
âI think itâs completely fair for a girl to have a little crush on the man who saved her,â She replies, face warming up from such a confession. To her delight, it gets another smile out of him. âWho knew you smiled so much under there?â She says before she could think twice about it. âI was starting to think you were that stoic, mysterious typeâÂ
âI could beâ He mumbles, and he finds himself taking her hand before she could finally touch her fingers to his lips. Â
Sheâs more than enticed to, with how pink and alluring they were, sheâd been dying to kiss them since sheâd lifted his mask, and hoped heâd give her the chance, seeing as he hadnât tried to cover the bottom half of his face just yet.
Sheâs never looked at him like this before. And to be fair, Megumi had never looked at her like this either. Heâd had no idea how pretty she was, like this, with her eyes half lidded and half focused, staring intently at his lips, giving away all of her thoughts without having to voice them. Her long lashes seemed to grow heavier with every slow blink. Sheâs hardly looking up at him now, all of her attention on just one thing, and Megumi was starting to run out of reasons why he shouldnât indulge her.
The hand that heâs not keeping away from him reaches out again, fingers skimming his jaw before curling around it with the softest touch. She doesnât pull him with much force, but Megumi finds himself following her movements as she guides him down, closer to her height.
It wasnât right to kiss her. It was actually the exact opposite of what heâd been trying to do here. How the hell did he wind up in this situation?Â
âThank you, Spidermanâ She whispers, her lips ghosting over his with every syllable.
Ah, fuck it.
His hand releases hers only to reach for the back of her head and pull her in the rest of the way, his lips capturing hers passionately. Not expecting him to make the first move, sheâs delayed in reacting, her hands sliding around the back of his neck and kissing him back with just as much fervor.
So lost in the kiss and how softly his lips move over hers, she almost forgets about the minor detail that his identity is still a secret to her, but even if it crosses her mind, she doesnât care.
Her fingers press into the small strip of skin exposed at the nape of his neck, and while she longs to dig them under the back of his mask and lift it off of his head, it's not out of a desire to expose his identity. Itâs purely because sheâd love to run her hands through his hair, followed by a curiosity of what that would feel like.
Was his hair long? Soft? Coarse? Was it shaggy? Was it shaved? The mystery of it all had her mind buzzing and her feet pushing her to the tips of her toes to meet his lips in one last kiss before he could pull away.
The final kiss is softer than the rest, so gentle and slow, it was the perfect first, and last, kiss.
Not that she could tell the difference, but Megumi had a hard time opening his eyes again when he pulled away. He didnât move far, his hand still cupped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. A part of him hoped theyâd be so knotted together that they wouldnât ever have to leave this moment.
When he does find the courage to look at her, heâs mentally kicking himself.
Megumiâs sure that the reason the sky was so dull tonight was because all the stars were trapped in her eyes, now being gifted to him under her precious gaze. Her lips curled into a slightly swollen smile, her cheeks pink with color despite the sun being nowhere in sight, it was perfect, she was perfect, and he canât believe heâs spent so long missing out on it.
Shit, shit, shit.
âYouâŚâ He starts, but he doesnât know where heâs going. His head is in the clouds, beyond the clouds, he was completely unreachable. (y/n) giggles softly at how quickly heâd become tongue tied. âYou should pursue the journalist thing, alright?âÂ
Brows slightly drawn together from the seemingly random comment, she nods back at him in a small motion.
âYou think?â She murmurs back, her hand squeezing his. It sends a wave of warmth through his arm and into his chest, and Megumi has to fight the urge to frown, because his mouth was still exposed.
Pulling his hand from hers, he touches it gently to her jaw, then her cheek.�� She leans into his touch, welcoming it completely. Her smile only grows upon feeling the warmth of his palm through his glove.
âI have a feeling that youâd succeed at anything you put your mind to,â He says, and itâs sort of cheesy, but itâs the absolute truth. Her lips part in surprise at the sudden seriousness in his tone, but she doesnât say anything, just lets his words linger on her mind. âNo more middle of the night walks, though, alright?â He says, shaking her head just a tiny bit to make sure it would get through her thick skull. âIf you canât sleep, just put something on tv, like a normal personâÂ
Her hand raises to cover the back of his, cradling it against her face sweetly. Megumi thinks the sight will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of time.
âThen how will I see you again?â She says, only half teasing. Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Megumi stalls by brushing his thumb over her cheekbone a few times.
âIâll be aroundâ He murmurs, nodding his head through his uncertainty. Was it a good idea to see her again?Â
(y/n) nods back at him, before letting his hand go and reaching for the bunched up material of his mask, pulling it back over his face.
It was hardly a good idea to see her this time, and sheâd actually needed his help. Look where that had lead him.
âI hope so,â She mumbles, seemingly just as uncertain as he was.
He finally drops his hand from her head, fingers carefully detangling themselves from her hair so as not to irritate her head, or maybe he just needed to linger near her a little longer.
Who was he kidding. He was going to find himself in this position sooner or later, wasnât he?
âI guess⌠you know where to find me,â She says, wrapping her arms around herself, even though it was a nice night with no breeze. She squeezes herself for comfort.
When did it start, exactly? Was it the little secrets she confided in? Or her worry when heâd shown up to class a few days ago with a black eye? Megumi struggled to pinpoint when things took a turn down the path of no return.
âIf you change your mind on that interviewâŚâ She adds with a soft smile. She hopes heâs smiling back at her. Â
He is.
âIâll know where to find you,â He repeats, hoisting himself onto the railing of her fire escape, and standing up on the thin bar with complete balance. He made it look easy. âGoodnight, (y/n)âÂ
âGoodnight, SpidermanâÂ
He took off then, completely silent as he leapt from the escape and swung off, nearly invisible in the darkness.
(y/n) couldnât help but sit outside her window a little longer, replaying the events of her night yet again, and wondering just how he figured out her name. ___
Megumi had resigned to sitting in the back of all of his classes for the rest of the year.
Itâs not a huge deal, he can learn fine from any seat in the class, and as he realizes this he comes to realize that there was never really a good reason why he chose to sit near (y/n) before. All of his complaints that she was an obnoxious bother had dissolved into⌠nothing. He chose to sit near her every day. Whether it was right behind her or two seats away, he couldnât ignore the fact that he always chose to be near.
And now that he wasnât, it was driving him crazy. He longed to be closer, to sit behind her again, maybe even right next to her. Had he really been so dense all this time?Â
Though their interactions had been swindling since heâd put more focus into Spiderman than he had in school, (y/n) hadnât spoken a word to him since their argument in the hall, and that was almost two weeks ago now. Â
The last thing sheâd said to him, sheâd said to Spiderman, not Megumi. Still, he tries to keep the soft, precious way sheâd bid him goodnight in his memory. He didnât want to forget a single moment of the last time heâd spoken with her, not the things she said, not the way she touched his skin so delicately, and certainly not the kiss.
Megumi leans his chin into his hand now, fingers covering his mouth nonchalantly. However when he presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips, itâs not the same.
They caught eyes here and there, but that wasnât the same either. Heâd come into class late, sheâd cast him a short glance, but it was always quickly returned to the front of the room. Not so much as a taunting glare was directed his way. It was safe to say heâd finally gotten her off his back⌠and heâs never felt like such an idiot.
It was worse outside of classes.
Heâd spend his nights swinging around town, lazing through patrol, busting perps when they came around, but crime was dwindling by the day, it seemed. He liked to think that Spiderman was making a difference, but heâd been a little rough around the edges lately, and he knew deep down his reputation was morphing into a ruthless fighter. Â
Spiderman wasnât just keeping peace, he was keeping criminals in fear. Not that Megumi was perturbed by this- for one, heâd long held that reputation already, so living with it as Spiderman felt no different. Secondly, the quiet nights were comforting.
The free time was starting to become a problem, though. He couldnât stop himself from trying to visit her. Heâd be aimlessly swinging and the next thing he knew he was on her block, near her building, almost approaching the very fire escape at her window where theyâd last seen each other. Itâs difficult to make himself turn around and swing the other way, especially on the clear nights when he can see her light is on, and he knows sheâs awake.
Sheâd kept her promise, it seemed. Heâd swing by often enough to notice the flicker of a tv screen, just close enough to know she was home and safe, but he tried not to linger too long. He didnât want her seeing him checking in, and he definitely didnât like the idea of sitting outside her window like a creep.
More than that, he feared that sheâd be delighted to see him again.
It had been a week since that night on her fire escape- with the rescue, the kiss- and Megumi really tried to keep his distance. He indulged himself in passing by her window more times than he could count, but he was careful to keep himself hidden, so she would have no idea his watchful eye was never too far. If he kept this up, he hoped that she would forget about it altogether. Thatâs what would be for the best.
Sitting across the street perched on the roof of a building like it was the most natural place in the world to sit, Megumi dropped his chin in his hand as he stared longingly at the only lit up window in the apartment building across the street. At this point, heâd probably spent more time looking at that window than he had in his own home.
He didnât want to forget about what happened. He didnât want her to forget about what happened.
His mask crumpled in his other hand, he tore his gaze away from the window to stare down at it, cursing it mentally for giving him everything only to ruin it.
It wasnât Spidermanâs fault, though. Megumi was just as much responsible for the rift heâd put between himself and (y/n), long before that damned spider bite. Heâd always pushed her off, kept her at armâs length or further, if he could help it. He was the one stubborn enough to never let anyone in. He was the one that pushed her into treating him with the same insufferable attitude heâd directed at her, way back then. So much could change within a year, he supposed that was true for everyone, but he couldnât ward off the self pity that came over him, thinking heâd surely changed too much within a year.
At the feeling of the first raindrop hitting his exposed head, he sighed, running a hand through his hair to dry the following drops of water before pulling his mask over his head again. Of course itâs going to start raining on him when heâs sitting here feeling bad about himself.
He doesnât intend to get any closer to her building, being right across the street already felt too close, but with the extra cover of the rain starting to pick up, Megumi thought maybe tonight he could get away with being just a little closer. Just close enough to make sure she was okay in there. He might not be able to do anything about her sleepless nights⌠but it couldnât hurt to check, right? He would leave as soon as he was sure, and then he would try not to return.
Heâs not stupid enough to climb directly onto her fire escape- but then again his being here was pretty stupid already so what was one more idiot move? Instead Megumi perches himself on the one above it, opting to hang over the bottom of it just enough that he could peek through the window.
To his surprise, even though her tv is on along with the rest of the lights in her room, (y/n) is nowhere in sight. He doesnât think much of this at first, she very well could be in the bathroom, or the kitchen. But just as he tries to rationalize her disappearance, the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and in the next second her window was sliding open.
âBoo!âÂ
Her whisper yell as she leans out the window and towards his dangling head is comparable to that of a childâs. Completely un-scary, and followed by a string of delighted giggles.
Megumi freezes, and he wouldâve fallen right off the fire escape if his reflexes didnât have him shooting out a web of safety to hang by. Heâs still upside down, swinging in front of her, but (y/n) leans out further to steady his movement by his shoulders.
âScared ya good, huh?â She muses. Her grin was a sight for sore eyes. âServes you right, stalking a girl like thatâÂ
âI wouldnât call it stalkingâÂ
âWhat would you call it then?âÂ
Her hands are still pressed against his shoulders. Megumiâs not sure if itâs to keep him from swinging, or if she was keeping her own balance as she leaned the upper half of her body out her window.
â... is it a crime to visit people?âÂ
âUsually when theyâre trying to creep in through a windowâ She quips back. Her smile only seems to brighten the longer she looks at him- even if she did sort of just call him a creep.
âFor the record I wasnât trying to get inâ He corrects, his own smile beginning to grow under his mask. He couldnât deny how good it felt to see her like this again, to be able to talk to her, even just look at her.
âJust spy from the outside?âÂ
âI donât like the narrative youâre spinning,â Megumi scoffs. âWhat happened to honest journalism, hm?âÂ
She giggles at that. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she gazes at him fondly. He liked this side of her banter- the playful side. It was fun.
âSo you think you can honestly say you missed me, Spidey?â She asks in a voice made of pure sugar. It rots his teeth, melts his insides, and makes all his senses go fuzzy.
âI thought we werenât going the nickname routeâ He deadpans, avoiding the question.
With her smile pursing to the corner of her lips, something about her demeanor changed then.
âItâs only fair, since you know my name,â Her tone is just as light, but her eyes are calculating, and Megumi knows heâs slipped up. And again just now, by not having a quick enough response. âAnd Iâm certain I didnât give it to you⌠so⌠how do you explain that one?â
âDid you think I wasnât going to have an interest in figuring that out?â Megumi chuckles, hoping he could play it off.
(y/n) presses further out her window, far enough now that the rain starts to dampen her hair, but she appears to pay it no mind.
âI donât like it when youâre cryptic, Spideyâ She huffs.
Again, Megumi laughs.
âIt sort of comes with the whole anonymity thingâ He answers.
She tilts her head at him, as if she could study him even with the mask on. Megumi couldnât deny the paralyzing effect it had on him.
âWhy does it feel like youâre a stranger to me⌠but Iâm not one to you?â She asks him slowly, as though still debating on asking him at all. âWhy does it feel like you know me?âÂ
âYou do talk a lotâÂ
Megumiâs grasping at straws now, but at least that gets a small laugh out of her. He hopes itâs enough of a distraction, hopes that she lets things go back to the way they were. He didnât need her trying to put together the puzzle that was Spiderman, it couldnât lead to anything good.
âYou know what I mean,â She murmurs. She raises a hand off of his shoulder, reaching for the hem of his mask in a way that wasnât supposed to feel familiar to him. âYou think youâd ever tell me?â She asks as her fingers toy with the materialâs edge.
âWho I am?â Megumi asks dumbly. Besides the raindrops slowly running down her face, thereâs no change in her expression. Thereâs a glimmer of hope in her eye as her fingers slip under the mask, not quite lifting it yet, but holding it with the clear intention to do so.
The silence lingers until she has her answer, and Megumi thinks this might be the damning moment that heâs been trying to brace himself for. Sheâll probably rip his mask right off, and then who knows how sheâd react upon seeing it was him all this time. He knew he was faster than her, he could easily swing away before she could have the chance.
A nervous, breathless laugh breaks tension, and she gently peels the mask towards his chin.
âI guess Iâll just have to figure it out on my own, thenâ She muses playfully.
âAn investigative journalist now, are we?â Megumi asks, but thereâs no time for further banter when sheâs got his mask bunched up at his nose and thatâs all the further it needs to go before heâs meeting her lips in a wet kiss.
The rain was not a welcomed experience, it had (y/n) shivering and it was irritating Megumiâs now exposed nose. It made their kiss slippery and messy, and with him still being upside down it didnât exactly make things any easier.
Neither of them cared.
All of (y/nâs) interests lied in kissing him and then kissing him again- she couldnât help it, even if he outright refused to tell her his name, he kissed her like a dream.
Shaky, wet palms steadied on either side of his face, trying to pull him even closer. He follows her direction as best he can, but with his hands still occupied with the web to keep him from crashing onto her fire escape, Megumiâs left with his neck craned as far forward as he could push. If he hadnât held onto the last scrap of his sanity he wouldâve dropped down from the railing and crawled right through her window.
He was getting carried away.
â(y)- (y/n)-â Her name is whispered soft and broken into her lips, and she knows this is his way of ending whatever this is, but she canât help but leave him with one last lingering kiss. He doesnât push her away, doesnât even go still against her kiss. He waits, all too patiently, until she has to lean back and catch her breath.
âYouâre going to leave,â She says softly. Itâs not a question, she already knows. He might think that heâs difficult to read, with his monotone comments and the mask thatâs easy to hide behind, but he wasnât as great of a mystery as he might think.
He frowns. It looks a little awkward upside down. (y/n) gives him a sad smile and carefully maneuvers his mask back into place. It doesnât take long before she misses the small glimpse of his face that she was allowed to see.
âWhy do I get the feeling that Iâm not going to see you again?â She sighs.
The raindrops on her face could easily be mistaken for tears. Megumi slides his hand out of her hair to dry her face, and he canât keep away the memory of him drying her actual tears.
âYou will,â He assures her, but the nagging feeling doesnât quite go away. âYou just⌠might not know itâÂ
A lump forms in Megumiâs throat when he says it, and it only grows when her eyes light up with intrigue.
âIs that a hint, Spiderman?â She muses, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
âGet some sleepâ He encourages, already lifting himself onto the fire escape of her upstairs neighbor. Disobediently, she pushes herself further out her window to follow his movements.Â
âI will see you again?â She asks as she looks up at him, not minding the pelting of raindrops soaking through her clothes and hair.
Against his better judgment- as things always seem to be when it comes to her- Megumi nods his head. He doesnât say a word before swinging away, knowing heâd overstayed his welcome by a longshot. Even without looking back, he can feel (y/nâs) eyes on him as she watches from her window.
And when he thinks about it, he can still feel her lips against his. ___
(y/nâs) not sure of the last time she walked into her 8am class and saw Megumi had gotten there before her. It stops her in her tracks, still in the doorway, staring at the boy hunched over his desk in the back of the class scribbling in his notebook at an alarming rate.
Wait⌠was he cram studying for their test today?Â
She scoffs, and he lifts his head to give her a bored glare. Of course heâd noticed her when sheâd come in- heâd heard her coming from the hallway- but he wasnât about to give her the reaction she wanted.
And it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his expression hardened and neutral when it came to her, so Megumi had been trying to avoid looking at her completely.
Keyword, trying.
âDonât tell me you actually didnât studyâ She says, a knowing little grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she looks him up and down.
Megumi holds his blank stare for as much longer as heâs capable of before turning his attention back to his notebook, pen scrawling loudly yet again. (y/nâs) brows raise at the intensity at which he was writing, shocked that her assumptions seemed to be proven correct.
âWowâ She mumbles to herself, before walking straight to the back of the class. Â
Megumi tries to ignore her, she probably just wanted to click her tongue at him in disapproval before sheâd go pick out her favorite seat and ignore him for the rest of the period. But sheâs approaching so quickly and suddenly sheâs leaning over his desk and he has half a mind to cover his work, as if there was any kind of damning evidence there.
She eyes the messy notes before glancing up at him, his gaze already set on her. For a moment it pins her in place, has her freezing up just as she had a moment ago, but the feeling melts before she could question the severity in his eyes.
âIf you want to borrow my notes, youâll have to askâ He tells her, his voice unwavering and devoid of any emotion. She rolls her eyes at the typical behavior.
âUnlike you, I cared enough to study last nightâ She replies, and sheâs just about to turn on her heel when the unexpected happens, and Megumi actually has a response.
âThat so?âÂ
His change in tone irks her, and she canât put her finger on why. But the tilt of intrigue matched with the way he smirks has her heating up.
Out of irritation, of course.
âDuh,â Her arms cross over her chest defensively. âIâve been studying all weekâÂ
Even as Megumi resumes his note taking, his stupid smirk is still plastered on his face. If she was more inclined to violence, (y/n) wouldâve wanted to smack it right off.
âIâm sure you haveâ He mumbles, watching out of his peripheral vision as her arms shoot down to her sides, hands balled into fists as she gasps and gapes at him. Clearly, she took offense to the comment, and he had to bite back the chuckle at it.
âWhat are you trying to say?â She snaps at him, but sheâs not nearly as intimidating as she wants to be.
âDidnât really say anything,â He replies, tone holding no emotion again. âYou just started freaking outâÂ
âIâm not freaking out,â Her eyes narrowed. âGod, why do you have to be so-âÂ
Before she can finish he looks up at her again, and again itâs like heâs stunned her with the way his gaze seems to pierce right through her. He looks pleased with himself, too, as if he was just dying to hear what she was going to come up with.
Peculiarly enough, her throat goes dry, and she canât quite remember how she was going to finish that sentence. Megumi must figure her out, too, because his smirk almost resembles a smile now, and her heated skin was starting to become unbearable.
âSoâŚ?â Megumi repeats curiously, hoping to egg her into finishing her thought.
(y/n) huffs, shaking her head in her agitated defeat before turning around and marching towards her usual seat.
Megumi returns to his work with a smile on his face. Her preference for Spiderman mightâve been clear as day, but there was something satisfying about knowing one way or another, he had a knack for getting her worked up.z
___
Despite her hopes reaching impossible heights, (y/n) hadnât gotten another visit from Spiderman in quite some time. It had been about two weeks now, and she hadnât noticed even a shadow outside her bedroom window.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt, because for some reason unknown to her sheâd grown to care for him enough to make every excuse necessary. He was doing important work out there, sheâd tell herself while sitting at her window, longing eyes looking for any sign of life out in the sleeping city. It wasnât like he had all the time in the world to spend on her.
Or while wandering the halls from class to class, while her eyes were trying to catch every stranger that walked passed, she hoped to find some flicker of familiarity in anyone. It mightâve been naive of her to think he could be as close to her as being another student at her school, but she couldnât help herself. She couldnât stop the âwhat ifsâ from plaguing her mind. She was so full of hope it was rotting her from the inside out.
Her focus was never quite all there. In class sheâd mindlessly take notes, her attention shifting about the room, trying to catch the feeling of being watched, but she always came up empty handed. There were no eyes on her, she concluded after days of paranoid searching. It was just a placebo effect her mind had come up with in her hoping to find him.
As if she was just going to happen upon him as easily as looking at him and knowing.
It was the same even around her friends. The usual group sheâd sit with at lunch had noticed her change in demeanor, but not knowing how to bring it up to her they tended to continue on conversing as if she wasnât actively ignoring them as she searched the cafe.
âWhat are you looking for?â One of them had asked one day, a slight wince on their face when she startled and turned towards them again, as if sheâd completely forgotten where she was.
âOh, nothing,â Her reply was less than convincing. âJust spacing, I guessâÂ
Maybe that part was sort of true, but it wasnât a good enough excuse for anyone to take her seriously anyways. So she was left alone to barely pick at her lunch and scan the cafe with an undeniable skip in her heartbeat.
(y/n) was starting to think she was going crazy, but it was like an itch she couldnât scratch. She just had a feeling that she was close, and to stop her from chasing that feeling would take a force her lunchtime friends werenât able to muster up.
Her grades had yet to be affected, but her uptick in strange behavior wasnât going unnoticed. Her participation had dipped dramatically, some of her classes actually dragging on in near silence as no other students filled the gaps of her incessant questions and comments. It was clear to her professors and peers that behind her wandering eyes was a void of class-related thoughts. Whatever was occupying her every passing minute, had nothing to do with her studies. But she maintained her perfect grade point average so effortlessly it was difficult to reprimand her for her lack of attention in each class.
Megumi had watched from the background as her sanity seemed to slip further and further. At first, it had been a bit amusing. Heâd noticed right away, the way her eyes caught every guy walking into class, the way she seemed to pick each one apart with only her eyes. She must have been gauging whether or not she deemed every one of them capable of being Spiderman. It was hard not to smile to himself when sheâd ultimately look away from each one, unconvinced. Â
One was too short, the next too tan, another just didnât have the right vibe, Megumi wished he could read her thoughts as she scrutinized each passerby in silence. He was never too far from her, so it was easy to watch the hope radiating off of her as she tried to find the source of the eyes on her. Luckily for Megumiâs rapid senses, he was always facing another direction when her gaze flickered his way. Not that she ever quite looked at him the way she looked at the others. He could feel her eyes sweeping right past him, pausing on a boy sitting just a few seats to his left instead. But yet again she was facing away and trying to come up with someone else.
Megumi wondered why it was that she felt so sure Spiderman was in this very school with her. Tokyo was a heavily populated place, and he knew she was smarter than to assume he was this close to her all this time.
(Of course⌠he was⌠but how could she have any idea of that?)Â
With every passing day she seemed a little more dazed. Which was an interesting look on a know-it-all like her. Her interest in the world around her took a nosedive, and it was obvious to a watcher like Megumi. She looked like a gray spot surrounded by the bright yellow of her lunch table. She stuck out like a sore thumb in every class, finally having learned to pipe down and retreat in on herself. She didnât look depressed, it was just clear as day that her interests were on anything but what was going on around her.
Again, heâs entertained by this for some time. Thereâs a swell of pride and something warm and new in his chest whenever he sees her so openly looking for him. Hopeful eyes scanning every crowd, every class, only to never properly focus on him. He should feel relief that he doesnât seem to be even a passing possibility to her. Instead, all he feels is a few skips in his heartbeat knowing she thought he was someone worth searching for.
Well, Spiderman was someone worth searching for, at least.
But the entertainment drains fast when her preoccupied mind lands her crashing into someone in the cafe. A freezing cold iced coffee is dumped all over the front of her pretty blouse, ruining it instantaneously. Megumi happens to look up just as the incident takes place, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on alert and his eyes finding her in the crowd in a momentâs notice, just in time to watch her crash.
And just as she steps away from the person sheâs crashed into, her focus shifted to her soaked and stained shirt, an unsettled feeling crawls over Megumiâs skin as he notices who it was she just so happened to run into.
The frat boy that had been bugging her not too long ago.  The annoying guy, yeah, that one. Megumi was pretty damn sure this run in wasnât as accidental as it looked, but he stayed seated at his empty table, with faux attention on the book in his hand.
His eyes hadnât returned to the page since his little sixth sense had drawn them towards the whole situation. Itâs upsetting that he isnât surprised to see that when (y/n) hurries out of the cafe, Fratboy follows.
He huffs, shutting his book without marking it and tossing it haphazardly into his bag. He hadnât even gotten to finish his lunch. Maybe he could sneak a few bites in his next class.
(y/nâs) trying not to tear up as she rushes into the empty corridor outside of the cafe. It wasnât like her to cry over a stained shirt, but it was just so embarrassing to have to go the rest of her day with the obvious mark. Not to mention it was cold and wet and sticking to her skin and- jesus, of course it was soaked through enough that the black bra she wore was visible now. Â
Even as she pried the material forward off of her skin, she could still feel the sticky remnants of coffee underneath. It wasnât like she had a spare outfit in her car, and she still had three classes left in her day. Was she really stuck in this wet shirt until then?Â
âSorry princess, it was an accident, swear!âÂ
And to make matters worse, it appears sheâd been followed.
(y/n) canât help the groan of frustration as she releases the material of her shirt, letting it stick to her torso again.
âItâs⌠itâs fine, itâs whateverâ She grumbles, waving off the guy she recognized as the cafe bother, or so she coined in her mind, never having gotten his name during all the times heâd hit on her. Thereâs not much sincerity in her words, but she doesnât need him lingering around while she tries to decide what to do.
âI did try to dodge ya, but you really werenât looking where you were going,â He continues, despite her obvious disinterest in his entire presence. âIs there anything I can do?âÂ
He comes closer and on instinct she backs away. Her expression alarmed and eyes cautious when he pressed closer anyways. Itâs not that she thinks heâs going to hurt her, but she doesnât want him any closer than armsâ length. Ten feet would be nice, but unless she wanted to draw more attention to herself by turning and booking it down the hall, armsâ length would have to do.
âNoâ She answers, as firm as she can get herself to be. To her, this is the part where he should walk away.
He looks apologetic as he steps forward again, but this time her step backward has her almost up against a wall, and now her senses are on high alert. Discomfort courses through her, a feeling worse than the cold coffee sticking to her skin.
âCâmon, I could at least help you get out of your-âÂ
Fratboy doesnât get a chance to finish his statement when a harsh grip lands on his shoulder and pries his body to move with ease. His initial reaction is to fight back against the force, but he doesnât get to do that either, as heâs spun around and shoved into the wall.
Even the snarl on his expression disappears when itâs Fushiguro Megumi that presses in close and keeps him pinned to the wall. His bruising grip is replaced by his entire forearm caged against his collarbone, just barely pressing against his throat.
A yelp dies in the back of (y/nâs) throat as the whole thing happens in a matter of seconds. Itâs as if she blinks and suddenly Megumiâs there prying this guy out of her personal space as if he was personally offended by the act.
âH-hey man, what the hell is your problem?â The waver in Fratboyâs voice is embarrassingly clear. Megumi would laugh if he was in a joking mood. Heâs not.
His hard expression is terrifying up close. (y/nâs) standing just a few feet away and even she feels a slight shiver go down her spine.
âPricks like you,â Megumi mutters, and Fratboy swallows a fat lump in his throat. âSkipping around like youâre hot shit and get to have anything you want. Pretentious pricksâ He spits the last part out through clenched teeth.
All (y/n) can think about were the rumors from last year. The guy Megumi supposedly put in the hospital. Those rumors had been enough to have people steer clear from him. She didnât even let herself get too close when pressing his buttons, even if intrigue plagued her mind.
âI didnât- I didnât do anything!â Fratboy tries to raise his voice, a pitiful attempt at puffing his chest and making him appear more of a fighter than he really was. His head swivels, wide eyes landing on (y/n), who was stuck frozen watching it all unfold. âTell him!â He shouts at her, and she startles just a little. Not because she was afraid of the demand, but because as soon as it came out of his mouth, Megumiâs foot brought enough force to have the guyâs legs straighten up, which in turn kept him further back into the wall.
If Megumi could push the guy clean through the white painted brick, heâd be a bloody mess stuck inside of the concrete already.
âDonât look at her,â The command comes out in a growl. Megumi didnât need to raise his voice to sound tough. His brows are furrowed tight and low over his piercing eyes, which were half the force keeping Fratboy against this wall. âHumor me, prick,â Megumi asks, making sure his attention couldnât be drawn back towards (y/n) a second time. âHow come your shirtâs so pressed ân clean?âÂ
The guyâs lip wobbles a bit before he manages a small âH-huh?âÂ
âYour shirt,â Megumiâs voice is colder this time for having to repeat himself. âHow come itâs so clean?âÂ
âI- I- because I do my laundry?â He asks weakly.
Megumi rolls his eyes, letting them fall shut as his head tilts towards the high ceiling. This guy had to be joking.
âWrong answer,â He huffs. âIâm gonna let you go, and youâre gonna go buy yourself another overpriced pretentious fucking coffee, got that?âÂ
Fratboyâs brows furrow, but he nods his head shakily in response. Perhaps Megumiâs arm was pressed too hard against his chest, and he was finally out of air. Megumi could only hope.
âAnd youâre gonna take that coffee and dump it over your headâÂ
âWhat!? Iâm not-âÂ
âSo youâd rather take the beating?â Megumi asks before the guy could protest too much. His brows are raised, his interest genuinely piqued. He had no problem with either option. Having this prick walk around with a broken nose or an expensive shirt with a big brown coffee stain seemed like a win-win situation to him.
Itâs clear that Fratboy remembers the last prick that pissed off Fushiguro Megumi, and he must remember that he wasnât given options, because the back of his head defeatedly hits the wall behind him when he mutters out his choice.
Megumi gives him a solid nod, and he only pushes him a little bit when he drops his arm and steps back so he was free to leave.
Fratboy only takes a step and a half.
âForgetting something?â Megumi barks, hard eyes freezing him in place before he could get close to re-entering the cafe.
Fratboy awkwardly maintains the eye contact, confusion clear in his features. Megumi jerks his head towards (y/n), whoâs silence evidently hadnât made her invisible to the two.
âOh, s-sorry- Iâm sorryâÂ
Itâs a weak ass apology, but Fratboy assumes itâs acceptable enough because when he rushes himself back into the cafe Megumi doesnât stop him again. He gets a few odd stares as he gets in line for a coffee with apprehensive eyes and his hands anxiously buried in his pockets, but he keeps his head down the entire time.
âWh- why did you do that?â (y/nâs) mumble is the only sound in the empty hallway. Her voice wants to stay stuck in her throat, but when itâs clear that Megumi isnât going to give her an explanation- or say anything at all- she forces herself to ask.
His eyes fix on her, and an odd sensation settles over her. All the previous fear and anxiety melts away. Sheâd gone so rigid, her sense of fight or flight disappearing completely and keeping her stuck in place hoping she wasnât going to be witness to a nasty fight. But she hadnât expected that. Megumiâs intensity had been terrifying, even if it wasnât directed at her, standing by and watching it had her throat closing up and her heart racing.
But heâd hardly even hurt the guy, just⌠humiliated him. Still, it was just as shocking to watch.
And now, being alone with him and trapped under his stare, what she feels isnât fear. Itâs⌠curiosity.
His eyes wander over her, reassuring himself that she was fine, maybe just a little shaken up by the whole thing. She was probably more embarrassed than anything. He could live with that, as long as she was safe. He just couldnât have placed his trust in that frat prick.
âI donât like assholesâ Megumi answers, his voice as monotone as ever, as if he hadnât just scared the shit out of that guy for her.
The lump in her throat grew hot as the realization struck her. Heâd done all that for her?Â
âWell- well yeah, butâŚâ Her brows furrow, her head shakes ever so slightly as she tries to put her thoughts to words. âBut he didnât do anything, just⌠was an assholeâÂ
âYou donât know thatâ His reply was quick but his tone didnât shift.
(y/nâs) eyes widen, the furrow in her brow smooths out, and sheâs at a loss for words as she keeps staring at him.
You have no idea what he was capable of doing. Spidermanâs words repeat in her mind now as if he were standing right there saying them to her. Itâs uncanny how similar his warning was to Megumiâs just now.
âHe probably wouldâve fucked off if I told him toâ She makes a weak argument in an attempt to fill the overbearing silence.
Megumi doesnât say anything, just beckons her to follow him as he takes off in quick strides down the hall. She should probably tell him to fuck off, but her curiosity gets the best of her, and she finds herself hurrying to catch up to him. Heâs not walking all that fast, but his stride is significantly longer than hers, and she finds herself out of breath as they round the corner and he enters the first empty classroom they come across.
âMaybe next time youâll learn the lesson and tell him to fuck off, thenâ Megumi grumbles, more to himself than to her, but she takes offense nonetheless.
âWell sorry I wasnât expecting you to show up out of nowhere and threaten the guyâ She mutters back.
Megumi scoffs before shrugging his backpack off his shoulder. (y/n) watches his every movement as he opens it up and digs around inside of it. She wants to ask what he was looking for, but her words are stuck in her throat again, and this time she canât get them to come out.
âI didnât threaten anybody, relax,â He tells her in a voice that couldâve been more comforting, but it was at least steady and sure. âIt should make you feel better that heâs probably gone and made a fool of himself, nowâ He adds.
âOh, thank you for thatâ She replies sarcastically.
âYouâre welcomeâ Megumi replies in complete seriousness.
She opens her mouth, gaping at him, probably about to lay into him for taking her clear mockery as sincerity, but before she can he finally produces what heâd been looking for.
A tee shirt.
She blinks in dumbfounded silence as she stares at the plain black material in his hand. His brows are raised in an impatient expression, but she doesnât take the offer right away.
He sighs. Heâll just have to do all the work, huh?
âWould you rather go the rest of the day in that?â He asks, nodding to the obvious mess of her shirt.
âIt- itâs not that badâ She argues, her stubbornness forever getting in her own way.
âItâs going to reek of coffeeâÂ
âI happen to like the- the coffee bean scent-âÂ
âIt wonât be anything like thatâÂ
âItâs not even that wet anymoreâÂ
âI can see your whole bra nowâÂ
That does the trick in shutting her up, her head snapping downward to reassess the damage done. The groan she lets out morphs into a whine before she looks up at the balled up shirt in his hand. He vaguely stretches it towards her, and with a huff she snatches it right out of his hands.
As soon as he turns his back to her, busying himself with closing up his backpack, sheâs peeling the ruined shirt over her head and quickly shrugging into the fresh tee shirt.
Besides the ridiculous proportion, sheâs quick to notice the scent that clings to it. She dips her head once itâs covered her, trying to place a name to the smell of fresh laundry. Pine? Is this what pine smelled like? A part of her hated how good it smelled, how addicting it was to keep taking small sniffs.
âIâm⌠dressedâ She says quietly when sheâs gotten enough sniffs in and realizes that Megumiâs still just standing there.
When he turns, his eyes wander over figure not so subtly, but his expression is unchanging. Even if his brain is going haywire seeing her in his clothes. Itâs just a tee shirt, but he takes a mental picture.
He realizes she must not wear black very often. Itâs striking on her. It must be why his mouth has gone dry and he has to force himself to look her in the eye.
âGood?â He asks, already turning to leave the classroom.
She canât believe heâs going to leave just like that. It felt like nothing had been resolved here- and if anything, she only had more questions. She doesnât know what to say to make him stay, sheâs not even sure he would stay if she asked him to. He didnât exactly seem to have any interest in being around her⌠ever⌠but then why had he put himself through all this trouble? Her muddled mind was a mystery, but the puzzled look on her face gave Megumi enough of an inclination to linger for just a minute longer.
âWhat?â He sighs, but her confusion is still plastered on her face.
âI⌠I donât knowâŚâ Her voice is barely a mumble. It doesnât match the way her face tilts and shifts into something different. She takes a step closer to him, a bold and large one, putting herself far closer to him than she ever wouldâve imagined doing before. She was supposed to keep a certain distance, Fushiguro Megumi had a reputation after all⌠but something was different.
This wasnât the Fushiguro Megumi that she knew and despised. In fact, this was a completely new person. He was⌠familiar.
Megumi doesnât step back when she draws in closer, but his neck leans backwards with apprehension, chin tilting lower to keep his eyes on her every movement. Itâs not like sheâs able to do anything, thereâs no mask to be ripped off, no secret identity to be figured out just from her stare alone, and yet something makes a pit grow in his stomach when she gets too close for comfort.
Heâs never been this close to her. Not without the wall of protection that was the Spiderman mask.
Thereâs nothing stopping him from walking away. There was no harm in leaving her stranded in a classroom. But something keeps him there anyways. Something keeps him waiting for her to explain herself.
Her eyes drop his gaze, but they donât fall far. They land just a few inches lower, he can feel the prick of the daggers they stare against his lips. Subconsciously he licks over them to soothe the ache of their sudden dryness. Her look wanders just a little bit, but never too far. Mapping out his chin and jawline, quickly down his neck and then back up again to his lips.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â He finally finds his voice when she leans in a little closer. Not quite close enough to kiss him, but close enough that she could lean in if she wanted to.
(y/n) snaps out of it instantly, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushing when she looks at him properly again and realizes what sheâd been doing.
Fushiguro Megumi? Spiderman? God, what was she thinking?Â
âN-nothingâ She stammers out, and before he could call her out and further her embarrassment, she brushes past him to make a quick exit out of the room.
Megumiâs left alone, his own cheeks flaring up with heat, but he canât pinpoint what exactly causes the blushing, and he doesnât really want to stand around to figure out why. ___
Megumi doesnât show up to the last few classes of the day. (y/n) notices.
Her fingers pinch at the hem of the tee shirt heâd given her, rolling the soft cotton over the pads of her fingers in contemplation. Her focus on uncovering Spidermanâs identity during class has dwindled, but sheâs not paying any attention to her studies, either.
For the last few hours of her day, she replays the events of the day in her mind on fast forward and rewind, over and over, trying to find something she felt she missed.
When had Megumi followed her out of the cafe? Had he seen what happened? Why was he so angry? Why was he so kind to her? Why was he soâŚÂ
Itâs on the tip of her tongue, the timing of it all, the peculiarity of it all. She knew she just had to be missing something.
Her trip home is quicker than usual, her steps as fast paced as her racing mind. What was it? What was it that she wasnât seeing?Â
It was so close she could feel it looming right over shoulders. ___
Never before had she sought out Fushiguro Megumi. But (y/n) couldnât get the feeling to go away no matter how hard she tried, and she feared the only way out was through.
She didnât want to confirm her assumptions without any proper evidence to base it all on, and she had a feeling that he was a pretty good liar, so sheâd have to get creative with catching him. The best way to start, she figures, is by getting him alone.
It takes longer than she hopes. Megumiâs not an easy person to approach and he appears to like it that way. She stares him down when he comes in late to their first class, and his eyes catch hers for a moment longer than usual, but without a change in his expression itâs hard for her to get a good read on him. He takes his seat in the back of the class and she canât get him to look at her again, no matter how many times she turns her gaze over her shoulder to steal another look at him.
After a few more classes with the same outcome, she supposes sheâll just have to wait until they break for lunch. Heâs always sitting alone there, so she has her hopes up that it will be easier to sit down and prove it then.
But of course today is the day heâs not seated at his usual corner table all to himself. She waltzes into the cafe with nothing but confidence, and itâs ripped away from her when she sees that gloomy table empty. She lingers for a few minutes, hoping to catch him walking in later than the rest, but he never comes.
With her confidence boiled down to irritation, she storms out of the cafe on a mission to have this ended once and for all. She couldnât possibly wait any longer, so one way or another, she was going to find and corner him.
The courtyard is empty at this time of day. The weather was cloudy and with the high chance of rain in the next hour, no one wanted to spend their free time eating lunch or studying out there.
Ever the outlier, thatâs where she happened to find Fushiguro Megumi.
Sheâs not sure if she should grin or grimace when she approaches the tree heâs sitting under. Heâs wearing his usual oversized headphones, and heâs got both his textbook and notebook opened. He was the perfect image of donât bother me. (y/n) feels adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she rushes over to him.
Itâs sort of strange. Just a few days ago she would duck her head and keep walking if she happened to cross his path. But it was like all of his intimidating qualities had just⌠disappeared. Despite the vibe he was trying to put off, he didnât seem as unapproachable anymore. He didnât seem as scary, although when she thinks about it long enough, (y/n) figures sheâs probably the only person on this campus that interacted with him. Even if it was to antagonize him, sheâd never seen anyone else speak to him.
A few days ago, he was Fushiguro Megumi, the boy with the bad reputation and even worse attitude. He was her academic rival, a thorn in her side that reminded her of faults just by existing. Today, she thinks he might just be the boy sheâs been falling head over heels for. The one with careful words spoken by gentle lips. The first person in a long time that actually made her feel seen, and a feeling of being understood could work wonders on a stubborn heart.
âHey!â She hollers, and Megumi jolts as he looks up to find her walking up to him. His expression scrunches up as he pulls his headphones down around his neck, and lowers his dual books.
âWhat do you want?â He asks, but the words arenât nearly as harsh as he wants them to be.
She stops just before him, and invites herself to sit down beside his outstretched legs. He wants to tell her that heâs busy, that heâs studying out here alone because he wants peace and quiet, but heâs silent as she drops her backpack in front of her and opens it up.
âThought youâd want this backâ She says, pulling out a familiar black tee shirt. She hands it to him folded in a neat square. He almost laughs, knowing that when heâd offered it to her it had been a crumpled up ball.
âRightâ He says, but before he takes it, she pulls it back towards herself, unfolding it. Megumi watches with furrowed brows. Was she not giving it back?Â
âIâve just had this weird feeling lately,â She explains as she opens the shirt up completely. Megumiâs confused expression flickers between her and the shirt. âSo I wanted to see somethingâÂ
She starts bunching up the black material then, which Megumi watches with growing bewilderment. Why even fold it? What was this?Â
âOkayâŚ?â His voice trails off when she looks up at him again, and the next thing he knows sheâs leaning in close, holding his tee shirt up to his face. âWhat the- (y/n), what the hell are you doing?âÂ
She ignores his questioning and the way he tries to swat her hands from getting any closer, but it doesnât stop her from doing exactly what she aimed to do. Holding the black material up to cover half his face, from the bridge of his nose up, all that was left to see was his mouth down.
She couldnât deny that it wasnât a familiar sight, but it was hard to prove her theory on that alone, and she sighs.
â(y/n), this is annoying. And weird,â Megumi starts, his hands wrapping around her wrists in a careful hold, but enough to start to pull her and the tee shirt she was trying to blindfold him with away. âCan I have the shirt back or not- mmph!âÂ
Just as he thinks heâs put a stop to her weird antics, she takes him by complete surprise when she darts forward and presses her lips against his. Megumiâs eyes go wide, although heâs still half hidden behind the shirt, he canât help but keep them open as her soft lips move over his with familiar gentle passion. His confusion melts away the longer she holds the kiss, and by the time he thinks he should put a stop to it, itâs already too late. Heâs connected the dots and so has she.
He sighs against her mouth, his fingers twitching around her wrists, unsure as to whether or not he should let her go or pull her in closer. (y/n) breaks away from the kiss just as she releases his shirt. They both let it drop to his lap, and she finally gets to see the whole picture.
His features have fallen to soft surprise as he gazes back at her, waiting for whatever was about to come. He doesnât know if he should brace himself for something good or something bad, but he does his best to put his walls up anyways.
Her own eyes are wide with recognition, flickering between his own troubled eyes and the lips sheâd just spontaneously kissed. Her tongue darts over her bottom lip thoughtfully, and for a second, Megumi thinks sheâs going to give it a second try just to be sure. She doesnât have to say anything right away for him to know exactly what she was thinking. She knew those lips. She knew that kiss. Heâd gotten his cover blown over a kiss, of all things.
What he doesnât expect is for (y/n) to let out a breathless laugh of delight, once the gears in her mind start to turn again. Her eyes are glimmering with an excitement she couldnât contain.
âI told you Iâd figure it out!â She keeps her voice hushed, which he can tell takes a great deal of effort.
âYou always go around kissing random people?â He mumbles, thinking maybe he can play it off, maybe there was still a chance of gaslighting her into thinking he wasnât the masked webslinger that had been slowly sparking up a romance with her. Â
Thereâs not even a small chance, though. (y/n) pulls her hands out of his gentle hold just to reach for his face, curiously skimming over his jaw, and then down his shoulders. His attempts at reaching for her hands again to stop her from practically running them all over him are weak, and itâs easy for her to ignore his clear attempts at stopping her.
âWow, I almost canât believe it,â She begins to mumble to herself, her eyes moving at rapid speeds as she puts the picture together in her mind. The lips sheâd memorized in the hopes of finding them again, only to find they were on Megumiâs face, she lets out a delirious string of giggles. âI mean, it makes sense now, but it also doesnât- why did you keep coming to see me?âÂ
Megumi opens his mouth, but he doesnât get a single word out before sheâs throwing more questions at him.
âDid you seriously think I wouldnât figure it out? Iâm top of the class you know, and youâre not exactly great at hiding things-âÂ
âSecond to the top,â Megumi reminds her with a slight roll of his eyes. âAnd it took you quite a while, you knowâÂ
âYeah, well, the secrecy thing was fun for a bit,â She argues. âBut you barely tried to hide it. Coming into class looking like you got hit by a bus? What were you thinking?âÂ
âThat you hated my guts and didnât care if I did get hit by a bus?â He replies with a smartass smile. Now itâs her turn to roll her eyes.
Her hands fall still against his collarbones, fingertips barely tapping against the base of his throat with her excitement.
âIt was you this whole timeâŚâ She murmurs, but she doesnât sound as disappointed as Megumi expects. Her gentle eyes feel piercing as they stare at him thoughtfully, as if this was the first time she was really seeing him. In a way, it sort of was. âWere you ever going to tell me?â She asks quietly, and this time she does wait for him to say something. Â
Megumi sighs, regarding her soft expression with thoughtfulness. There was no coming back from this now. She figured him out and he barely even tried to cover it up. That was a hard thing to do once sheâd kissed him, though. She mustâve figured out his weakness, and happily used it against him.. Typical brat.
âI thought about it,â He says honestly. âJust didnât seem like a good idea,âÂ
The corners of her lips barely turn into a frown, and Megumi canât help himself from reaching out to her, cradling her jaw in as light of a touch as he could bear. It was different now, feeling her warm skin against his without hiding in a suit, behind a mask. He knows she must feel it, too.
Everything was completely different now. She must be upset with him, right? She must at least be discouraged in finding out it had been him all along. Not someone with a better track record, maybe someone more attractive, or at least nice to her. He wonders if she had her hopes up for a specific person.
âAre you upset?â He asks. He doesnât want to know all the answers to his questions, but he asks before he could shove down the curiosity and avoid it forever.
âUpset?â She repeats, brows furrowing momentarily with her confusion. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âYâknow,â He mumbles, long lashes flickering as his eyes fall to her lips for a moment. He looks at her again before continuing. âThat itâs me. That itâs been meâÂ
âOh,â She hums, thinking for a second. âWell⌠did you mean it all?âÂ
âMean it all?â He repeats her now. âYou mean while I was Spiderman?âÂ
(y/n) nods in a small motion.
âYeah⌠did you mean all the stuff you said⌠and did?â She adds the last part in an even quieter whisper than the rest, but the look in her eyes is so full of anticipation it speaks volumes over her voice.
âYeah, of course,â Megumi answers without a shred of hesitation. âOf course I did,â He says it again, leaning forward with emphasis, his eyes never leaving hers. â(y/n), I didnât want you finding out because I didnât⌠I didnât know that I wouldâŚâ He trails off, his nerves starting to crawl up his throat for having to admit so many truths in one sitting. This one seemed to be harder than the rest. âI didnât know Iâd like you so muchâÂ
She laughs, breathless and sweet, humored by such an honest confession. It finally makes a real smile creep over his lips, relieved to see that her reaction was anything but negative. His heart skips a beat, and his thumb trembles as he reaches to stroke it over her cheekbone. He canât help but want to pull her in closer, hold her properly, maybe even kiss her again. It should scare him, that she knew the truth now, that he was vulnerable to her now, but right now all he feels is a weight lifted off his chest, and the lingering taste of her chapstick on his lips.
âI definitely didnât plan on liking you so much either,â She admits softly, her cheeks burning with color. Megumi can feel the heat in her skin when he presses the pad of his thumb further against her cheek. âAre you mad about it?âÂ
âMad?â He laughs, his smile becoming a full blown grin now as he leans in closer to her. Her fingers curl into the material of his shirt as he draws her in closer, too. Anticipation has her eyes flickering between his lips and the deep blue eyes that havenât left hers since sheâd kissed him. âMad about what? Getting to know you? The real you? And falling for you?âÂ
Her eyes grow wide as she stares back at him. For a guy that hid behind a mask for weeks, he sure got comfortable putting his cards on the table fast.
âNo, Iâm not mad about it,â He answers her properly, closing enough distance in between them that his nose prodded against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut before she could stop herself, her chin tilting forward to meet him the rest of the way. âIâve wanted nothing more than to be with you, like this, for real, since you brought me that dumb bag of vegetablesâÂ
âIt wasnât dumb, there wasnât iceâ She argued. Her lips had just been brushing over his in the ghost of a kiss before she jerked away to argue some more. Ever so stubborn, he thinks with nothing but fondness for her.
Megumi doesnât let her go far, pulling her right back in until her lips landed on his, and all further arguments died on her tongue. Her hands relaxed their hold on his shirt as her lips moved against his with muscle memory. Soft and so pliable, she melted right against him, leaning closer and closer until they were chest to chest, and Megumi moved his free arm to wrap around the dip in her back, keeping her tucked as close to him as he could without disconnecting their lips.
She finally gets to card her hands through his hair, scraping her nails over the nape of his neck before pushing the longer strands between her fingers. It becomes impossibly messier than usual, but Megumi only hums in delight as she messes it all up. He mustâve always wanted more, too.
Her fingers tangle in his hair and she doesnât let up even when they part to catch their breath. Megumi stays close, his forehead resting against hers as he pants over her lips, leaving her still wanting more.
âYou know I still have a million questions, right?â She murmurs, and Megumi canât help but place the softest of kisses against her lips as she speaks, even if he was still breathless.
âI donât feel like sitting and talking right nowâ He mumbles, chasing her lips for another kiss. She giggles, kissing him back but not nearly as long as he wouldâve liked. Pulling away all too soon, she stares at him with wide eyes.
âI mean, how do the webs work?âÂ
â(y/n), we have class in ten minutes, thatâs not nearly enough time to get into it all,â He sighs, his hands smoothing over her hips and trying to draw her closer again. âCanât we just enjoy this a little longer, and talk about all of that later?âÂ
Huffing, (y/n) leans back in, and it makes Megumi smile if only for a moment. She stops short just before her lips could touch his.
âSo⌠did Spiderman put that guy in a hospital last year?âÂ
Megumi groans, dropping his head back against the trunk of the tree. She wasnât going to let this go, and that reputation was going to follow him forever, it seemed.
âAlright. Câmon, weâre headed to class,â He prompted her to grab her things and stand with him, but she kept her hands in his hair too secure for him to want to stand up. â(y/n), I promise Iâll tell you whatever you want to know, later-âÂ
âLetâs just skip classâ She suggests, all too eagerly for a girl that bragged about being at the top of their class.
âYeah, right,â Megumi scoffs, but when her expression doesnât waver, his face falls and he stares at her bewildered. âYouâre not seriousâŚ?âÂ
âWhy not?â She replies. âWe can afford to miss a couple classes,â Itâs not a bad argument, Megumiâs just shocked to hear her say it at all. âAnd.. I want to be the first one to get an exclusive interview with Spidermanâ She giggles, and Megumi huffs, giving her a bored look.
âIâd rather go to classâÂ
âAnd we can make outâÂ
â... I guess some catching up isnât a bad ideaâÂ
It takes them some time to gather their things and get going, only because (y/n) insisted on keeping her hands on him in one way or another, but even if Megumi pretended to be annoyed it wasnât a believable performance. He kept her close with his arm wrapped firm around her as they made their way off campus quickly, hoping to beat the rain.
âYou know, Iâm thinking of calling you the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman when I write about you,â (y/n) tells him on their walk to her apartment. âHas a nice ring to itâÂ
Megumi laughs humorlessly.
âNot sure it paints a very accurate picture,â He tells her, brows raised as he watches her pout up at him. âBut youâre kinda gonna be my publicist, so I guess Iâll take what I can getâÂ
âHey! I thought you said you were falling for meâ (y/n) sasses back. Megumi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too hard. He tosses his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they walk.
âThat was off the recordâ He mumbles.
She beams up at him, he pulls her a little closer into his side, keeping an eye on her only from his peripheral vision. He couldnât be getting too sappy with the way he looked at her now, heâd grown too used to having a mask to hide the dreamy look in his eye. Now though, it was completely on display for her to see.
(y/n) quite liked the view that she got now that he was mask-free. Sheâd always had her suspicions that Spiderman was handsome, and quite the victory it was to be proven right in that department. The stubborn, monotone, boy with a reputation part was just⌠an added bonus, she supposed.
She also supposed that sheâd come with her own reputation now, too. With Megumi never far behind he took on a role akin to guard dog. She couldnât deny she grew to like the feeling, melting at the protective way he kept close whether he had the mask on or not.
He had a certain responsibility to uphold when it came to keeping Tokyo safe, but he had a responsibility to those he loved, too.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi imagine#megumi imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine
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Always Second Choice
A/N: Iâve been in such a fluffy mood omg. Please enjoy a fantasy Iâve been thinking about all day.
TW: PURE FLUFF, some alcohol use, sad boi hours, sappiness, BUT HAPPY ENDING đ
âWhy canât I be someone that a person loves first?â
Youâd had a wild night of drinking with Phoenix after running into your ex. Seeing him always made you want to go all out, mainly because you wanted to forget about him and what he did to you. Itâd been a year since you caught him in bed with another woman and you still freak out whenever you run into him at the grocery store.
Tonight wasnât an exception. You had called Natasha to come drink with youâwho called Bradley and Jakeâbecause you desperately needed to take shots of tequila after you saw your ex with the girl he cheated on you with. She was pregnant.
âWhy couldnât he have loved me?â You had cried after three shots. âWhy wasnât I the one he chose? Why am I always someoneâs second choice?â
After another three and a half shots, Jake told you to call it night.
That was the thing about Jake, he was one of the best friends you could ever ask for. No matter whatâor whoâ he was doing, he dropped everything to make sure you were okay and safe. Itâs part of the reason why you fell for him, and hard. He was the first person youâd fully loved with your whole heart. But given that you both worked together and he saw you strictly as a friend, you knew it wouldnât have worked. And then there was his man-whore ways. He wouldnât give that up to be with someoneâlet alone you.
You had drunkenly told an extremely inebriated Nat and Bradley a sloppy goodbye before Jake scooped you up and over his shoulder and gentle walked and placed you in his truck.
Heâs carried you up the stairs of your shared two bedroom house and gently laid you on your bed. Even helping you undress and put on an oversized t-shirt with some basketball shorts.
âIâll be right here if you need me,â he told you before kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair.
âYou promise?â You asked.
âI promise, darling.â
You had woken up with a startle and began to panic before realizing you were home and in your bed. Flashes of the night popped into your mind and you groaned before remembering that Jake was on the floor of your room.
âJake,â you whisper. You knew heâd still be there. He promised he would.
âYeah?â He groggily whispers back. He mustâve been asleep.
âWhy did you bring me home? Donât you have people to see?â
âKinda,â he groans as he sits up from the carpeted floor and turns to look at you with squinted eyes. âAnd I brought you home because you were babbling at the bar.â
âOh, why are you still here? I thought you were on a date?â You ask.
âYou remember that?â He chuckled. âYou had nearly seven shots.â
âItâs all kinda popping into my mind,â you admit. âIâm sorry I kept you from her, whoever she was.â
âItâs fine. I was gonna cancel our hookup anyway.â
âWhy?â You dared to ask.
âI had better things to be doing,â he says, turning those green eyes on you with so much kindness, you felt like you were melting.
You turn away abruptly and nod, feeling your hair fall around your face. You feel Jakeâs fingers brush against your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile.
âNow what did you mean at the bar?â Jake asks. âYou know, about being someone second choice?â
You hesitate. As much as you loved Jake, you damn sure were not going to be telling him this...at least not now.
"Nothing, I was drunk as hell," you say instead.
Jake lifts a brow before sighing and standing from the floor, looking down at you from the side of the bed. "Scoot over, the floor is hard as fuck."
You laugh but scoot over, allowing Jake to climb into bed with you with a loud sigh. His arm brushes next to your arm before settling on top, his hand squeezing yours.
"You're my first choice," he whispers.
Your heart flutters at the thought of being his first choice but then stops when you realize he probably means it in a platonic way.
"Thanks," you mutter. "At least I'm someone's first choice."
Jake shuffles to face you, a frown forming on his brow. "I mean it, Y/N. You're my first and only choice."
"Okay, Jake." You're not convinced but at least the heart was in the statement.
"Y/N," he starts, cupping your face. "Why do you think I cancelled my date?"
"To take care of my drunk ass," you chuckle.
"No," he smiles. "Because I'd hate to know Bradley's hands were the ones drying your tears, dressing you. I hate the thought of having anyone other than me taking care of you. You're my girl."
"Your girl?"
"My number one," he starts. "My day one. My ride or die. My love. Don't think I haven't noticed how annoyed you get when I'd pick up girls at Hard Deck."
Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe Jake was telling you this, that he noticed your annoyance.
"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.
He caresses your cheek before whispering, "You know why."
"No, I don't," you whisper back.
"Then let me show you."
Before you can react, Jake is sitting up and pressing his lips onto your forehead. He peppers kisses down your cheeks and nose before hovering over your lips. Heâs panting softly, smiling down at you before he fully leans in.
His soft lips brush against yours and tentatively peck at them. Only when you wrap an arm around his neck does he deepen the kiss, smothering you in the best way imaginable.
His lips are wander and explore yours like an archeologist would an Egyptian tomb. His tongue pushes past your lips, wrestling with your own the taste of alcohol mixed with something sweet lingering.
Jake snakes his hand to the back of your neck, cradling your head in his hand.
âOh, Y/N.â He moans into your mouth. âIâve been waiting to kiss you.â
See to him, youâve been the girl heâs been dreaming about. The one he thinks of before he goes to bed. The one he needed to distract himself from because he didnât feel like you had feelings for him. Heâs loved you from the very moment you walked onto the tarmac and chewed his ass out for flying recklessly. Heâs loved you every day, every minute, every second.
Only now, when he saw you crying about being chosen second, did he think to make his move.
To hell with the friendship. He wanted more.
âJake,â you breathlessly reply when he kisses down your neck. âYou canât mean that. Itâs the alcohol talking.â
He stops kissing you, looking deep into your eyes and turning serious.
âY/N, when I tell you Iâve been waiting to kiss you, I mean it. From the moment you walked onto the tarmac two years ago, to now. Now god damnit, let me kiss you.â
So you did.
#jake hangman fic#glen powell#fanfic#jake hangman seresin#glen powell x reader#hangman x reader#hangman x you
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!boxer matt meets !sunshine reader at one of his fights...
the boxing gym was like nowhere youâd ever been in before nor anywhere you usually spend your time. it was loud, gritty, and so alive with this sort of energy that had your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. it had you clutching your best friendâs elbow like a lifeline the entire time she led you through the crowds of rowdy people around you, all of them jittery and chattering excitedly about the two men in the ring.
âhey, just stay close to me, okay?â your friend calls over the noise. when she glances back at you and notices the slight pinch of your brow and your pursed lips, her shoulders relax. âtrust me, youâre gonna love it. mattâs amazing to watch,â she reassures you softly, the somewhat familiar name piquing your curiosity. after all, it was the entire reason sheâd dragged you here tonightâher boyfriendâs brother is the one boxing.
so despite feeling like a fish out of water, you offer a nod of your head and a small smile, allowing your best friend to pull you towards the front of the crowd to get a better view of the two men entering the ring. youâve never actually met matt before, but as soon as you catch sight of him finishing up on the layers of tape on his knuckles, you just know itâs him. not only does he look strikingly similar to chris, but thereâs something about the way he carries himself that immediately draws you in.
heâs... intimidatingâbroad shoulders, a sharp jawline, and cold blue eyes zeroed-in on the man across the ring from him. you can see fading bruises peeking out from beneath his tape before heâs pulling worn gloves over his hands, and the sight nearly makes you shiver. youâre so focused on how dangerous he looks when you suddenly feel as though someone is staring at you, and when you look up, your breath hitches in your throat at the realization that those cold blue eyes are now focused on you.
it's only for a fraction of a second that matt allows himself to study you, but immediately thereâs an almost imperceptible furrow of his brow.
you donât belong here.
the thought is immediate and unshakable. while the crowd around him roars with impatience, you stand there with wide, pretty eyes and parted lips, clearly out of placeâlike a daisy growing through a crack in the concrete.
but as soon as the fight starts, his attention shifts, and youâre left reeling from his cold gaze as he locks in on the only thing that makes him feel at home anymoreâand it shows. you canât take your eyes off him as he moves around the ring, even when you find yourself wincing here and there at the punches being thrown. itâs still not enough to make you look away, your body subconsciously leaning forward and your lips parted as if youâre watching a movie unfold before you. youâre amazed by the focus and control he maintains, and by the time his arm is being lifted in victory, your best friend is surprised at the way you clap for the brunette in the ring.
she looks at you with amusement twinkling in her eyes for a moment before leaning closer to your ear. âsee? i told you heâs good,â she hums playfully, but you can hardly rip your gaze from mattâs broad shoulders and smug smile as heâs paraded around the ring in celebration.
once the crowd begins to disperse, most of them heading towards the front to collect on their bets, you find yourself being pulled towards the back despite your quiet protests as your friend insists that you have to meet matt. you canât explain why, but the thought of doing so has your heart racing in your chest, the image of those cold blue eyes gazing down at you from the ring like a warning in your head. but before you can really dig your heels in and insist you should be getting home, you find yourself timidly approaching chris and his brother sitting on a bench in the locker room, one of the employees probably working the fights tonight cleaning up a gash just over mattâs right brow.
âbaby,â the girl beside you greets her boyfriend, a wide grin on her face as chris stands from the bench to wrap his arms around her waist. you watch as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to her mouth, but find yourself looking away just before their lips actually meet.
when they pull away, sheâs still smiling when she shifts her attention to matt. âmatt, this is the friend i was talking about bringing along,â she explains, introducing you to the boxer. you can feel your cheeks warm as your name is spoken to the other man, mortified that he might think you canât so much as introduce yourself.
from the bench, mattâs head tilts just enough to acknowledge you guys, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly when he looks at you. âso,â he says, deep voice laced with sarcasm, âyou brought me a cheerleader?â
slowly, your face falls, and while your cheeks begin to burn, you find yourself blinking, lips parting and then closing as you try to find somethingâanythingâto say to curb your embarrassment. heâs still looking at you, watching you closely, like heâs trying to gauge your reaction, but you feel like you can do nothing but flounder under the cold, subtle hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
despite your obvious embarrassment, your friend just laughs it off. âsheâs new to all this, but she thought you were amazing,â she informs him, raising an eyebrow as if challenging the other triplet from beneath chrisâs protective arm around her shoulder. there seems to be something unspoken exchanged between the two, but youâre too flustered to decode any of it, especially when mattâs expression shifts into something a little more smug as his eyes flick back to you.
âis that so?â he asks, but thereâs an air of cocky indifference about his question, and you watch as he leans his back against the lockers behind him, arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes a few lean muscles flex subtly. you donât have to see yourself to know your cheeks are a furious shade of pink.
âi mean, yeah, umâyou were really good,â you manage to stammer out, voice barely above a whisper. it only serves the burn in your cheeks, and you watch as mattâs smirk deepens.
âreally good, huh? high praise from an expert.â
âoh iâm not an expert at all,â you breathe out almost immediately, not catching the teasing tone to his voice, âi donât even really know much about boxing, but the way you movedâit was like, um... watching a dance? but better. faster, and stronger,â you elaborate. at this point, your hands are wringing together anxiously at the base of your stomach, and your face is on fire. you feel entirely silly after youâre done, especially when you watch the way matt tilts his head to the side, clearly amused.
âa dance,â he repeats, tone dripping with skepticism, ânever heard someone call it that before.â
despite your own nerves, you nod your head quickly in response. âit was just that you seemed to know everything that was going to happen next, and you executed it so well... it was amazing, really,â you find yourself admitting, and for a moment, mattâs smirk falters as he watches you seemingly replay the whole fight in your head, looking completely fucking awestruck.
from beside you, chris rolls his eyes. âmatt,â he says simply, a light, playful warning just beneath his brotherâs name as he shoots him a look as if to say be nice.
you donât catch it, his expression shifting into one of an easy smile when you look the coupleâs way, but your best friend almost looks sympathetic when your eyes meet, and you canât help but be a little confused and feeling left out of the loop as matt finally stands from the bench.
âit was nice meeting you.â your name rolls off the boxerâs tongue with ease, but he seems almost dismissive about the pleasantry as he throws a t-shirt over his head and picks up his bag from the bench, hiking the strap over his shoulder.
disappointment sinks into the pit of your stomach, oddly enough, and your mouth twitches into a frown despite your best efforts. âoh, uh, it was nice meeting you too,â you reply quietly, the room beginning to fill with soft shuffling as your friends begin to make their way towards the door to end the night.
your fingers toy anxiously with one another as you turn to follow the couple out of the room, but your heart skips a beat in your chest when matt calls your name once more, prompting you to turn back to him, eyes wide with both surprise and curiosity.
you watch as he makes his way towards you, blue eyes twinkling with something you canât put your finger on as he takes you in carefully. the closer he gets, the quicker your pulse becomes, and you swallow hard when you have to tilt your head up slightly just to look at him because of how close heâs gotten.
âiâll see you next friday then?â he asks, raising an eyebrow. he watches your face carefully, taking in the hint of confusion behind your pretty eyes, the sight making his own mouth twitch into a small smirk as he begins to move past you and towards the door to follow his brother out.
ânext friday?â you echo almost breathlessly, twisting around to face him once heâs halfway out the door, his body only half turned towards you as he nods once, that same sarcastic smirk resting so beautifully on his face.
ââm gonna need my cheerleader at my next fight, wonât i?â
a/n. i missed writing. i'm sorry i haven't been posting, but i hope you guys stick around for what's to come. x
Šhanbinics
#Šhanbinics#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo drabble#matt sturniolo blurb#â§.*ămatt hoursă !boxer matt#divider by aquazero
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KINKTOBER DAY 9 â PREDATOR ďž PREY. gallagher x f!reader ďž delivering this basket to your grandmother sounds easy enough until you find out 1) sheâs not home and 2) someone else is.
NOTE â submission for @pixelcafe-networkâs challenge friday #4. i was assigned little red riding hood for our fairytale theme!
CONTAINS â established relationship; acting ďž role playing. predator/prey (wolf!gallagher), tw consensual non-consent (tw cnc), oral (receiving), muffling (glove), fingering, squirting, overstim, pet names, fear play & size kink if you squint ^^;
á explicit smut (18+) â link to sign up for my taglist & to view mlist!
The forest seems to be much quieter than usual.
You subconsciously pick up the pace to ease your mind. Itâs as if the birds have unanimously decided to go somewhere else to singâ and even the rabbits you typically feed on your way to your grandmotherâs place are nowhere to be found today.
Itâs completely silent aside from your own footstepsâ the only noise apart from the thoughts in your head. Itâs a bit odd, you think⌠the sun is still out, and the weather has been clear lately. Absolutely nothingâs wrongâ from what you can see, at least.
Is it just something in the air today?
Youâre struck with a sense of uneasiness as soon as you reach her home. Even her door looks a bit ominous. Certainly not as cheerful and inviting as youâve grown used to, but you chalk it up to your nerves from the strange silence. A knock would probably be fine.
Your hand hovers hesitantly over the door before you swallow your paranoia and knock once, gulping when the noise practically echoes throughout her home.
A chill runs down your spine. â..Hello?â
It falls silent again, and the fear returns to your chest. â..Grandmother? I brought you a basket of goods from the villageâŚâ
The door seems to creek open on its own at thisâ just enough for you to nervously peer inside. Itâs empty⌠and normal. Everything seems to be in place- as if your grandmother had simply just vanished from the Earth. It sends another wash of nerves down your spine, but you shake it off and continue towards her bedroom.
âIt hasâŚ.â you call out to no one in particular, taking slow, cautious steps down the hall. â..Apples. We baked you a cake too. Itâs small thoughâ we put some strawberries in itâ um.. G-Grandmother?â
You stiffen as soon as you enter her bedroom, as if on instinct. Something isnât right- your mind must be playing tricks on you. Sheâs.. sheâs in bed? She still doesnât say anything to you, even when the old wood creeks underneath your weight.
Itâs not rightâ doesnât look right. Somethingâs very, very off about this. Every muscle in your body locks in place when you try to speak. âWhoâŚ. who.. are you?â
Whatever is hiding behind the blankets starts to move, and you stumble a couple steps backwards, eyes widening when it finally looks back at youâ or you should really sayâ when he finally looks back at you.
Your heart gets stuck in your throat. That is not your grandmother.
The fight or flight response takes less than a second to kink in. Youâre running faster than you think youâre even capable of, racing to the door before you could manage to let out a single scream. The world is reduced to a blur when you swiftly turn the cornerâ
Itâs right there. You hear him chasing after you, but the door is right there. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Just a little further andâ
A large hand loops around your wrist, and your body suddenly jerks backwards. âO-owâmmph!â You stumble backwards before your back roughly collides against his chest, and the other hand clasps around your mouth only a second later.
âWhoa, whoa, whoa,â you hear him chuckle when you try to claw against his arm, âjust where do you think youâre going?â
Heâs strong- and youâre sure he knows this. Doesnât hesitate when he lets go of your wrist to snake an arm around your waist and pull you flush against him. His arms feel big around you too.
âHmmmâŚâ he hums, and you gasp when you feel him dip down to take a sharp inhale directly into your pulse point, ânot so fast, you lilâ rabbit.â
He laughs a bit when you try to say something against his palm. Laughs hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of his chest. His body feels warm when he tightens his embrace around youâ and itâs only then when you realize whateverâs pressing into your ass feels even warmer. It feels big.
âThereâs no need to panicâŚâ
You struggle anyways. Push and jerk back hard enough to stumble and fall onto your knees, and he takes the opportunity to pin both your hands behind your back and hold you still for him.
âW-wait!â
âHm?â He suddenly stills behind you, and the hold on your wrists loosens a little. You donât say anything else. No mention of that word thatâll get him to stop in an instant⌠nothing but an impatient sway of your hips.
He lets out a gentle sigh.
âDonât make so much noise,â he flips up your dress, and you suck in a deep breath. âItâs nothing personal. Wolfâs gotta eat. And you happen to look delicious.â
âI-Iâm.. not. Please donât kill me,â you start to beg, craning your neck to plead with the man looming over you. âI donât thinkâ donât think Iâll be delicious.â
He laughs at this too. Enough to let go of your hands, and your palms slam onto the wooden floor to catch yourself from falling. âOh, youâre just too cute, arenât you? Making deals with a wolf? What a bold, bold girl you are.â
Your eyes widen when he slips off a glove before balling it up in his fist. âOkay then. Just one taste. If you make it, then thatâs good for you, isnât it?â
Itâs your only shot. Your only chance. You give in and nod, and the smile he returns sets the deal in stone. Youâd be the helpless bunny under him, and heâd be the hungry wolf.
âMmâ!â the glove is roughly pushed into your mouth the next moment, and heâs pulling your hips back towards him. âCanât have you making too much noise, sweet bunny. What if the other animals hear and want a taste of my meal? We canât have that, can we?
âSo better behave yourself.â
You clench your eyes shut. Itâs the only way you can hide. You close them tight, ball your fists up and wait for him to have his way. It doesnât help that youâre soakedâ you know you are, and you know heâll say something aboutâ
âSoaked through your panties?â
He pulls the fabric aside to press his palm over your cunt, and a needy whine threatens to slip out. âWhat? Dying to get eaten out here?â Gallagher puts a little more pressure into it nowâ pushes his fingertips against your clit and you jolt. How sensitive. Exactly what he wants.
âN-no! Iâm not..â
âOh,â a deep laugh erupts from his chest again, âreally now? Then how do you explain this mess?â
He slides a finger inside, and the noise that follows makes your face burn. That wet? Actually that wet? No way.
âAâah!â
He never planned on letting you respond in the first place. He starts lewdly fucking the digit in and out of you, curling it deep inside you and itâs loud. Itâs embarrassing. Your thighs start to tremble from the movementsâ body instantly recognizing the familiar touch.
Just like a domesticated pet. âMm. Youâre drenched.â
âGonna cover me in it before we even start?â You shake your head adamantly, and he huffs. âHavenât even gotten a taste yet, bunny.â
âSo⌠letâs see. Let me⌠take a look first.â
Every muscle in your body freezes when you feel his breath fan against your cunt. Heâs so closeâ you can feel each exhale against your clitâ feels good. Feels really, really good.
âU-umâŚâ you mumble into your arm.
âThatâs just right,â he laughs, and your walls flutter around nothing. The position heâs holding you in makes your heart pound. Youâve never had it like this. Cheek pressed against the floor and your hips held up high for him. Thereâs nothing for you to grab ontoâ nothing to holdâ leaves you with no other choice but to hide your face in your arms and let him have you however he wishes. âWhat a treat. Iâm gonna devour you whole.â
D-Devour?
It happens too fast for you. Starts with one, slow, long stripe up your cuntâ he uses the flat of his tongue to get a good taste of you and you shiver and whimper.
Gallagher stills, tongue still flat against your cunt. The noise that leaves his throat next is akin to a growlâ rumbles against your clit and fills your core with heatâ and then itâs over just like that. The grip around your hips tighten abruptly, and heâs buried deep in your cunt the next second.
âA-ah!â You cry into your own hands, eyes rolling back into your skull. Itâs messyâ nothing short of primal. He laps at your cunt, flicks his tongue at your clit and pulls you flush against his face. You canât run from itâ canât squirm or budge with the way heâs holding you like captured prey. âF-fuck!â You manage to choke out a curse, and you feel him laugh against you again.
âA vulgar little bunny, arenât you? Thought I told you not to attract others to my meal, didnât I? Whereâs the silence?â His grip around your thighs tighten, and you yelp. âI donât like getting distracted while I eat.â
Your hands clasp harder against your mouth as soon as the words register in your ears. Eyes clenched shut, thighs going numb, and the sound of him devouring you whole is even louder than you could ever be.
It all feels too good. Way too good. Too good for your mind to even comprehend that youâre getting close.
You donât expect your orgasm to hit you like a truck. It comes out of nowhere and you cum hard, screaming into your fingers as you gush all over his face.
But he doesnât stop. In fact, he doesnât react at all. Gallagher doesnât slow down even when you twitch and tremble violently from the aftershocks.
âA-ah, Iâ waitâŚ!â He gives another squeeze around your thighs, and you think you get the message.
animated dividers by @ cafekitsune !! <3
#hsr smut#hsr x reader#hsr gallagher#gallagher x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail x reader#gallagher smut#hsr fanfic#hsr imagines#hsr drabbles#eviewriting#honkai star rail gallagher#gallagher x you#honkai star rail imagines#tw: cnc#tw: predator/prey
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Chaos in the Changing Room đđ
Ingrid Engen x Reader
warning : fluffy đ đ
summary :
You go into the changing room to give Ingrid her shoes she forgot in your bag. You never expect the level of caos that was happening between these walls.
It had been a typical match day, and you were always there, supporting Ingrid from the stands. The energy at the stadium was electric, and the team was buzzing with excitement after their win. As you made your way out of the stadium, you realized something. Ingrid had left her shoes in your bag. With a sigh and a small smile, you decided to drop them off in the locker room before heading to the parking lot.
Making your way through the hallways of the stadium, you could hear faint laughter and chatter from the changing room as you approached. The door was slightly open, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking.
"Come in!" a voice yelled from inside.
You pushed open the door cautiously, shoes in hand, only to be greeted by utter chaos. Clothes were scattered everywhere, music was blasting from a speaker in the corner, and players were either dancing, shouting, or draping themselves across the benches in various states of post-match exhaustion.
"Uh⌠hi?" you called out, trying to spot Ingrid in the madness.
"Oh hey, youâre Ingridâs girl, right?" A cheerful voice piped up from across the room. It was Mapi, grinning at you as she pointed. "Sheâs over there. Probably forgot something again, huh?"
You nodded, smiling awkwardly as you stepped further into the room. "Yeah, her shoes. She always leaves them behind."
Mapi laughed, and just as you were about to hand the shoes over to her, you felt a friendly arm wrap around your shoulder.
"Look who we have here!" someone announced loudly.
You turned to see Lucy Bronze, a wide smile on her face as she guided you further into the heart of the changing room. "Youâve made it to the chaos zone now, no turning back!"
"Lucy, leave her alone," Ingridâs voice called out from across the room, sounding both amused and slightly exasperated. She was sitting on the bench, tying her hair back, clearly having just come out of the shower.
Your heart skipped a beat seeing her, even in the midst of this chaos. Her eyes caught yours, and she smiled softly as you approached.
"Hey, you forgot these," you said, holding out her shoes.
Ingrid groaned playfully. "I swear, Iâd lose my head if it wasnât attached."
As you handed them over, Ingrid leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, but before you could even respond, another voice chimed in.
"Wait, wait, wait! Is this the Ingridâs mysterious partner weâve heard so much about?" Alexia, the captain herself, stood up from the bench, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as suddenly all eyes were on you. "IâuhâŚ"
"Relax, weâre only teasing," Alexia said, laughing as she gave you a friendly pat on the back. "Weâve been dying to meet the person who keeps Engen grounded."
"Grounded?" Ingrid repeated with mock offense, standing up now. "Am I that bad?"
The rest of the team burst into laughter, and you couldnât help but laugh along with them. Suddenly, you were enveloped in the friendly chaos of the squad. Being teased by Mapi, roped into a joke by Lucy, and even pulled into a celebratory dance circle by Keira.
For a moment, you forgot why you had even been nervous about coming into the locker room in the first place. This wasnât just a team; this was a family, and they had welcomed you with open arms.
Eventually, Ingrid made her way back over to you, sliding an arm around your waist as the squad slowly started to wind down from their post-match high.
"Thanks for bringing these," she murmured, holding up the shoes with a sheepish grin.
"Anytime," you replied softly, leaning into her warmth.
As you looked around at the lively, spirited squad around you, you realized just how lucky you were. Not just to be with Ingrid, but to be embraced by the people she called her second family.
"Ready to head out?" Ingrid asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Yeah, letâs get out of this chaos before they rope us into something else," you joked, glancing over at Mapi, who was now challenging Lucy to some kind of ridiculous dance-off.
Hand in hand, you both made your way toward the door, leaving behind the whirlwind that was the changing room, your heart full from the laughter and love shared in that chaotic but wonderful space.
#barca x reader#woso x reader#barca femeni#barca femini x reader#fc barcelona#fc barca#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#mapi leon#alexia putellas#lucy bronze#keira walsh
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i know you said hotch and reader baby requests⌠but what about hotchâs daughter that he met as an adult meeting Jack for the first time? two babies in one! love you đ
âYou meet your little brother, with your dadâs support. fem, 1.6k
To grow up wondering if your father might love you is odd. You spend years wondering if youâd ever know him. Would he be proud of you? Would he like you? If you could find him, would he want you to?Â
And then you do find him, and youâre floored by how desperately he wants to take care of you.Â
Honey, his message starts, sent at 5AM that morning. Just to remind you, dinner is at 5PM, but you donât have to worry about being late. You can come whatever time you like, please let me know beforehand. Jack was so excited last night he couldnât sleep.
Another sent at 5:16AM. I canât wait for you to meet him. How are you feeling about it? If this is too much, you donât have to.Â
At 5:25AM. Please call me to talk when youâre awake, if you can.Â
You think perhaps your father might be as nervous as you are to introduce you to his family. Because Aaron, your dad, has a wife and child. Haley, his high school sweetheart (though there had been that brief separation in college that allowed your existence), and Jack, his four year old son.Â
This might be hard for everyone, but at least you arenât destroying a family by existing. Aaron didnât do anything wrong in getting your mother pregnant. He had no idea about it until you showed up at his office.Â
You rub your tired eyes and decide against calling him right away. You have work soon, and heâs probably at his own place of work already. Instead, you make yourself a cup of tea and breakfast you canât eat. Turns out youâre more nervous than you thought.Â
You call him on your lunch break.Â
He said you can call him whenever you want, just heâs busy, and canât always answer. He also said you can call him whatever you want. It had been a strangely touching moment at one of your âcatching up on a whole lifeâ dinners. Mr. Hotchner was extremely formal, and made him laugh every time you said it. Aaron was better, but you could call him dad, if you liked. The paternity test agreed.Â
âWill that be weird for you?â youâd asked.Â
âHoney, Iâve had someone calling me dad for the last four years. You can call me what you want.âÂ
Some part of you wished he insisted, but maybe itâs best the choice be down to you.Â
âHello?â he asks as he picks up. âY/N?âÂ
The will to call him dad dies. Itâs too awkward, what if he hates it? âHello,â you say instead, stammering trying to sound natural.Â
âHi, honey. Are you still coming to dinner tonight?âÂ
âYeah, I wouldnât miss it.âÂ
After an investigation and a motherâs confession, you found Aaron Hotchner online. Watched him behind podiums and sat at conference tables, even found his guest lecture at your university. It was a few years before youâd attended, but you canât help thinking: what if youâd watched him talk? Would you have known he was your father? Of course, you couldnât know. But maybe he would have.Â
Aaron took one good look at you in his office and believed you. Well, you had a photo of him and your mom, and you offered to take a paternity test then and there, but he told you he knew pretty quickly.
âYou okay?âÂ
âJust terrified,â you say.Â
âHaley⌠Haley isnât mad at anyone. She has,â âhe clears his throatâ âa very tight picture of her life in her head, and her husband having a child without her wasnât in that picture, but she also has a really big heart. I promise you have nothing to worry about.âÂ
âItâs not Haley Iâm scared of.âÂ
âHoney, Jack canât stop telling people he has a new sister. People keep giving Haley congratulations.âÂ
You rub your eyes. Youâll be surprised if your makeup survives the day. âAre you sure you even want me to come?âÂ
âI want you more than anything.âÂ
Which doesnât answer the question youâd voiced, but reassures the one youâd been thinking. âI just wouldnât blame you if you didnât want me to. I canât imagine how terrible this has been for you. Iâve disrupted your whole life.âÂ
âIs that what you think?â he asks gently.Â
You can imagine him sitting at his desk. His office was roomy, with heavy furniture, big windows, and a gaggle of photo frames on the desk. He is intimidating, but he doesnât talk to you with any meanness, or sternness. Heâs been careful with you this whole time, so no, youâve no reason to think he doesnât want you around, but maybe heâs too good a man to admit it.Â
âIf itâs too much for now, we can wait,â he says. âWe have all the time in the world. But I promise it wonât be what youâre thinking. You certainly arenât disrupting my life.âÂ
You decide to be brave about it and go to dinner. Only when youâre standing on the Hotchner porch do you remember heâd wanted to talk to you about something. He opens the door quietly, ushering you in with a smile, and before you know it heâs offering a hug in the small foyer.Â
âHi,â he says, patting your back. Your hands rest tentatively on his sides.Â
âHi.âÂ
He holds you at armâs length before dropping his touch. âYou look pretty,â he says.Â
Which is a whole other category of thing. âThank you. Is this the sort of thing you wear to dinner?âÂ
âYou can wear pyjamas, if you like. Jack usually does.â
âThat would make a good first impression.âÂ
Haley appears from a doorway. âOh, youâre here,â she says, smiling. âHello, hello!âÂ
You get another hug. Haley smells like expensive perfume and softness. Her hair is perfect. Sheâs one of the most beautiful women youâve ever seen, and itâs emphasised by her glowing smile. âJack is bouncing off the walls, but he might get a little shy when he really gets to meet you.â Her smile softens. âWow. You donât look much like him, but you have his frown. Howâs that possible?â She nudges Aaron. âYouâre so moody itâs in your DNA.âÂ
âIâm sorry, Iâm just nervous,â you explain.Â
âMe too,â Haley says.Â
âItâll be okay.â Aaron gives Haley a squeeze around the shoulders. âHeâs in the living room. Are you ready?âÂ
âMaybe she should go in by herself.âÂ
You and Aaron both stare at Haley.Â
âI should?â you ask.Â
She shrugs. âItâs not like weâre going anywhere. But maybe Aaron can introduce you and then bow out. Itâs less pressure on both of you.âÂ
You honestly couldnât agree less with her, and Aaronâs giving her a dubious frown, but sheâs Jackâs mom and your dadâs wife and youâre too scared of upsetting her to disagree.Â
Aaron, however, isnât worried. âYou donât have to,â he says, giving Haley a rub on her shoulder, âitâs just a suggestion.âÂ
âItâs okay. Um, whatever you guys think is best.âÂ
So Aaron opens the living room door and walks you in.Â
Jack is drawing a bright picture on the floor, surrounded by a spread of crayons and washable markers. He has a huge sketch pad, where light from the TV stains the white with cartoon colours.
âJack.â Aaron touches the back of your arm. âBud, Y/Nâs here for dinner.âÂ
Jack whirls. As predicted, he sees you and his smile turns to shyness. Youâre feeling shy, too, tempted to hide behind Aaronâs arm, but stepping forward when he prompts you to.Â
âHi, Jack,â you say.Â
âHi,â he says, lookin at Aaron.Â
âThis is your big sister,â Aaron says.Â
Because Jack is your little brother. Half brother, but brother. You werenât expecting to feel so awed.Â
You step out of your heels, you shouldâve at the door, and use the armrest of the couch to lower yourself onto your knees. You just wanna see him.Â
Heâs quite big, for his age. Heâs tall. He has brown hair with slightly blond ends, and his eyes are big, flush with dark lashes. You have some of the same DNA, but youâre not sure you could tell with the two of you side by side.Â
âYou look like your mommy,â you say.Â
âYou donât,â Jack says.Â
âI look more like my mommy.â You smile at him. âItâs nice to meet you, Jack.âÂ
âYou donât look like a sister,â Jack says. âYouâre old.âÂ
âIâm not that old.âÂ
Aaron laughs and touches your shoulder again. Itâs nice to think heâs standing by.Â
âI⌠I can still do big sister stuff, even if Iâm old,â you hedge gently. âI can still do fun stuff, I swear. Iâm super fun.âÂ
Jack pulls himself on knees to sit very close to you. He takes the skirt of your dress into his hand and pets it. âWhat if we ruin your dress?â he says worriedly.Â
âI have so many like this, itâs okay.âÂ
His smile warms. âOkay. You want to colour with me?âÂ
âYes, yeah, I do. I really want to, what can we colour?âÂ
âIâll draw you a picture.âÂ
You look up at Aaron with a smile that threatens to set with the wind. Youâd be stuck like that, grinning with a mixture of relief, pride, and affection.Â
âIâm gonna go help Haley set the table,â he tells you. Youâre probably wanting more than heâs giving, but you swear, he talks with love. âOkay?âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
âOkay, dad,â Jack says, taking your hand to pull you to the crayons. âWeâre gonna colour now.âÂ
âOkay, buddy. Draw me something nice.âÂ
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out
masterpost
After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didnât know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.
âI think it was around here,â Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruceâs study. âI donât know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.â
He didnât have to be the worldâs smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.
âThat makes sense,â Bruce said. âCass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?â He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?
âBig visible muscle,â Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. âDanny.âÂ
He stood up even straighter.Â
âIs Amity dangerous?â She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. âDangerous to Jasmine Fenton?â
âJazz,â he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. âUh.â Danny faltered. âUm.â He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart.Â
He hadnât thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew⌠They would know who to ask for more information.
His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.
âBatdad extracts them?â Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?
Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. âMaybe.â One shaky inhalation. âIf, um.â It sounded like someone elseâs voice. It couldnât be him saying that right now. âIf it wouldnât be too obtrusive⌠I donât want to extract them and then, like, they canât go back if they wanna.â
âWe can handle that.â Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned.Â
âThat would be, uh. Cool.â Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.
Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like theyâd done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.
âBatdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,â Cass listed easily. âAmity.â She jostled Danny a little. âAnd we get dinner. You only need me. Iâm the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.â She blew a raspberry. Â
Bruce looked exhausted and fond. âShe is the best,â he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. âI think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?â
âŚThey all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? âNight is probably better.âÂ
âIâll make a few calls.â Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.
âText!â Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasnât too mean. âGrandfather Bat.â
âOh!â Danny startled. âUm, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.âÂ
Bruce balked. âWe don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigationsâŚâ He looked constipated about it.
Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. âYou're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.âÂ
âPreparing could give away the plan to observers.âÂ
âIs Amity Park Batman's domicile?â Cass asked archly. âBatdad.â She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. âMayor of Amity Park?â
Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. âPoint taken.â He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. âDanny, do you need help to contact your friends?âÂ
He shrugged. âJust a computer.â Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. âI know you gave me a phone, but we thought -â
âThat communications might be intercepted,â Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. âIt's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?â
Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud.Â
Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. âSheâll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,â Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom.Â
Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.
âNo, really, this- yes!â Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message.Â
It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat.Â
Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. âBut donât worry, heâs kinda cool,â Danny added. âI gotta go. I am starving.â
Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. âFine,â she said, obviously annoyed about it. âIâll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.â
âYou hate Batman?â Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.
âThatâs Damian,â Danny introduced. âHeâs cool.â
âHey,â Sam said shortly. âYeah, heâs basically a cop. You have a problem with that?â Her voice went a little too aggressive.
âJust so you know, Damian is a child,â Danny said warily.Â
Sam scoffed. âYou said heâs cool. I respect him enough to fight him if heâs wrong.â
âBatman may be improved by your feedback,â Damian said idly, as if he wasnât making trouble for his father on purpose. âYou should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?â
Danny sniggered into his hand.
âI can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.â Sam mused. âGood idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. Itâs really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.â She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.
Danny flushed. âYeah, I had logistical difficulties,â he said, which sounded less pathetic than âI got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to use to access a computer.â
He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. âWell, thatâs done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.â
Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. âI think I will.â Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.
âDo you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?â Donât ask, donât ask, Danny silently hoped.
Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow. Â
Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.
âWait.â Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.
âHey, buddy,â Dick said.
Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.
Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with a sort of proprietary indulgence.Â
It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didnât really pay attention, thoughts consumed with a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously.Â
Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. âTime to go,â he said.
Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.
âHaha,â Cass said, pointing at him.
âPoor scared little guy,â Dick cooed. âYou canât sneak up on him like that.â
âToo scary,â Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.
Jason scowled. âShut up,â he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. âYou both suck.â
Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jasonâs heels. He didnât look back to see who shut the door.Â
Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that heâd sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.
âSo, what now?â Dick turned a cautious circle. âI didnât exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.â
Danny made a face. âIf I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.â He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. âI sort of need to just hang out andâŚfilter feed.â He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.
âInefficient,â Cass observed.
He nodded. âYeah, but Iâm really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably justâŚâ Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. âHang around him, I guess.â
Cass hummed in the back of her throat. âPerimeter.â Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.
Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. âYou canât be the favorite uncle,â he lamented. âThat should be me.â Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.
âYouâre just crabby because you arenât full of delicious ghost juice,â Jason muttered into Dickâs ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldnât hear. The banter didnât stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.
âWe arenât here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,â Dick said out of the side of his mouth.Â
EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jasonâs aura at that answer, so apparently it wasnât as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.
âMaybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.â He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.
Jason grinned unpleasantly. âNo, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.â Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.
Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows.Â
Amusement Mile wasnât saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still.Â
âThis place is just plain creepy.â Danny hid a shudder. âWhat happened here?â
Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. âItâs more like what keeps happening here.â Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.
âBut nothing should happen tonight,â Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didnât hint at. âThe person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.â
All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building sheâd climbed earlier. âSuspicious,â she said flatly.
Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. âWhatâs wrong?â Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults. Â
âSomeone was here.â Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. âInside vent.â
Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. âGIW,â he said. âUh, that measures⌠that senses ghosts.â He licked his lips. âI think we should go.â
âAre you- are you going to be hungry?â Jasonâs brow furrowed fiercely. âYou think they might have an alert that you came out here?â
âWe are more capable than we look.â Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick.Â
 Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.
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HOW DO I GET YOU ALONE?
â Logan Howlett â
𦰠:: summary â remembering her first love after a long time of running away from it.
â Logan Howlett, Fem!Reader, Jean Grey, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and more.
⍠:: Alone - Heart (Bad Animals, 1987) â It Must've Been Love - Roxette (It Must've Been Love, 1990)
𦰠.. warnings â angst; mentions of intimate moment together (18+ themes), strong words, lmk if I forgot something.
> I haven't double checked this, might contain grammatical errors and typos.
𦰠author's note â LMK IF YOU WANT LOGAN'S POV GUYS đ I kinda felt shitty and I wanted a heart clenching angst, I don't want them to be happy and all of that love story. Probably my longest work ever and I'll have my break for like a day or two (more like 2 years) anyways HAVE FUN POOKIES!
WORD COUNT â 3, 666k words
"Hey, take care of the kids and yourself too." the man mutters underneath his breath as he places his 'best dad in the world' coffee mug in the sink, quickly grabbing himself a napkin to wipe the left residue on his lips â it took her a quick moment to respond since her attention is too focused on putting her children's school lunch in their very own lunch boxes, "yeah, yeah you too." she nods as she wipes her hand in her colourful apron, giving him a glare.
"did you have everything? car keys? the lunch I made you?" she says with a worried yet hurried tone making sure her husband got everything in his hands before leaving the house â "yes, ma'am." he chuckles with a nod, before she could even say something back he walked up to her wrapping his arms around her, planting a kiss on her temples.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
he nodded and left pulls away, calling the kids to have their goodbyes before their father left for work â she turns around and sighs while wiping the bead of sweat forming in her forehead, she then closes the lunchboxes and place it inside the lunch bags.
for the last nine years, this is her daily routine â to be a responsible wife and mother towards her husband and children, to be her children's first teacher and to be her husband's helping hand.
just like her dream, to be wife to somebody.
to a certain someone.
"Mommy!" james yells from his room making her drop what she was doing in panic that something might've happen to her first born son, she rushed upstairs 'till his room just to see him being completely fine â "Mommy, we need to bring old photos of our parents to school for our family tree." he says slightly feeling scared that he might've freaked his mom out for yelling too loud and exaggerated.
she sighs closing her eyes, but then looks at the kid, again trying to be calm as possible not wanting to scold the child because the school bus is going to arrive in ten minutes and he just had the balls to tell her that right now. "Okay, give me a quick moment. Wait downstairs and watch Peter and Julien for me, is that okay?" she says calmly.
"okay, mommy." james nodded as he carries his backpack with him, she created a space so he could get out of his bedroom door â when she heard his foot steps coming from the stairs she closed his bedroom door and made her way to the attic wherein the old and useless stuff was placed.
she pulled the ladder string making the ladder fall on it's own, she then secured it making sure it's stable enough to step on. As soon as it was stable enough she climbed, her head peeking through the attic.
she then spend her last minutes searching for some old boxes with photos, she already obtained her husband's old photos, mainly the one from his school yearbook photos â on the other hand, she couldn't manage to look for hers. She didn't really had much of photos before except for some that are nowhere to be found, she didn't go to school either which means she does have yearbook photos to share.
she already wanted to give up and just hand out the photos that she had in her hands right now, but her eyes landed on this brown wooden box with her brain processing where it could be from, it looks familiar at the same time it doesn't.
she then crouched to grab the box, it was small and almost fragile considering how old it maybe is. She shook the box making sure it has something inside and it did sound like there are things inside but it feels like it's packed with so much things inside.
she already forgot about the ticking of the clock and how close the school bus might be already. She flick the button open, bringing her hand to open the lid.
letters
photographs
and a locket.
it made her stop breathing for a moment, it's like her soul jumped out of her body for a quick mini second as the realization of what this was â she blinked while her fingers lingered into the rough almost fragile papers that contains letters and the photos wherein the colors are slowly fading.
she exhales and attempted to push back the letters and photos all at once in the small box, she's rushing making it unable to push it all at once except if placed neatly, out of frustration she dropped the box making it scattered all around the floor with the other ones flying somewhere in the room â she sighs closing her eyes, only to see a photo of them lying in the floor with a letter behind it.
the poorly written words even brought those memories back too good yet it stings painfully than being tortured by an electrocuting machine â no, she wasn't supposed to sit here and see this all of these things that are supposed to be gone ever since she left that damn roof. She already left what she was many years ago and she's not planning to remember nor come back because she's already contended of what she have right now, this was her dream right?
she felt a bead of tear slowly runs down her cold cheeks as she stare at the photo with her hand holding into it, wanting to just tear it apart or maybe burn it until it's all nothing but ashes that she's soon going to throw away in the lake nearby her house.
hair was short, smile was wide, she's wearing his leather jacket, his hands wrapped around her waist and her lips was attached into his cheeks â the piece of paper crumbled into her hand as she lets out an exhausted sigh and her eyes' blinking trying to avoid wasting tears again.
the same face she had as they were talking that night, the night that absolutely ruined her.
before this whole him meeting jean thing, everything was way too different compared to what situation they're in after him meeting jean â they're almost entwined and it feels like they're the only one who understands each other wether it's about missions or just in general.
birds of a feather or two peas in a pod, that's what professor x calls them, they're almost inseparable â but as times goes by it's more than just friendship.
at some point the tension started being way too compacted that it's almost hard to resist the fact that he couldn't help but to look at her lips everytime she speaks or maybe she couldn't help but to look when he's just there standing topless while fixing something â everything was irresistible.
"I don't know, he just keeps coming at me or something." she shrugs with their bodies next to each other as stares at her drink, the tension was tight and somehow warm â and the fact that Logan is questioning about this random dude who came up to her basically checking her out, it's not helping.
he doesn't want to sound possessive.
she's not his.
she doesn't want to avoid the guy either.
it's not like he's going to get jealous.
he didn't mutter any response but the moment she looked at him, she can hear the mutters inside his head â she knows that she agreed to not read his mind but she couldn't help, her head got ears and it's hearing too well.
"I'm not going with him, not worth my time. Rather, I know someone's better at wasting my time." she mutters underneath her breath quickly looking back at her whiskey as he looks back â he clicked his tongue putting the glass down in the counter, she then looks back making their eyes locked at each other.
it was deep, it was something, what do you call that? mind fucking?
she's sure it's not her telepathy thing that is wanting to pull him into a kiss right now and let him do the things that he wanted to do to her, and Logan is also sure that's it's not only him who's been feeling this close and those gazes and touches didn't have any meaning.
"fuck." she mutters underneath her breath as she holds into the bathroom's towel rail for balance as Logan's teeth leaves marks on her neck â she can't help but to wince and moan lightly as he squeezes her glutes, feeling the tight pressure.
"Logan, it's going to be visible." she sighs as he pulls away with her free hand resting on the back of his head.
"can't find the problem."
fuck, literally.
she pulls him in a passionate kiss, feeling almost like high or euphoric just by this. It was an overwhelming gut rush that she couldn't explain, she can taste the bitterness of the liquor he just had mixing with hers and it's getting her almost feral â "fuck me, Logan." she groans in his ears, like that her request is what he fulfils.
it would be a lie if both of them say everything happened once or twice, it was more than that â they didn't shared just themselves, their body, a kiss but an intimacy that she knew she wouldn't have with anyone else except for Logan.
it wouldn't be the same if it's not Logan.
every night, as they lay together in bed with Logan next to her sleeping his ass off â she couldn't help but to think, what they really are.
sometimes she would just be there and imagine their future together, kids, a nice house, and them being together â a small house down town just perfectly enough for their family, she even promised herself that if they're going to have their first son, it's name is going to be James Howlett Jr.
she's never really been a vocal type of person since from the start, she prefers quiet over anything else in this world â she never once brought the words, "what are we?" or maybe ask him if they're more than just sharing naked bodies at one bed or crashing lips together as the world falls apart around them.
but then she just spends her whole night pondering when's the right time going to be to just ask him if,
if he feels more than just sexual tension or whatever was this.
like, it couldn't be so casual that he'd hug her from behind or be a worrywart everytime she's out of sight during missions â and most of all, friends don't say I love you during sex, right?
she'd always remember when a fortune teller told her that 'you wouldn't know when the universe is going to turn against you' she never believed it not until she came home from a mission along with kitty â as she walk in the halls, she could already hear the familiar voice; his voice.
and jean's voice?
when she was only few steps away from the room where all the noises of the room is coming from, she was fighting with herself wether to just stay and listen or just walk by the room so maybe he'll notice that she's there or maybe just mind her own business, they're just friends right?
she can hear Logan's chuckle as she teases him over something.
she couldn't help but to feel this weird ache in her stomach, she couldn't explain the feeling but it was slowly going up her chest until it reaches her throat â her chest rises she closed her eyes trying to take deep breaths and thinking to just walk away.
she opens her eyes and exhales heavily, almost audible â she walked pass by the room purposely making her steps audible, she didn't even know why she did that.
she walked quickly back to her room and closed the door behind her, then leaning her back into the door with a heavy sigh â why did I do that?
why do I feel like this?
why,
why,
and why's.
that's all she could think of all night, they're just friends right?
the kiss
the way he holds her hand
no, she pushed herself to calm down â Logan can be friends with anyone, what she witnessed is just a friendly conversation so where's the reason to be paranoid?
and they aren't even together.
each night she wasted her time pondering what to do because they are slowly drifting away from each other â as time passes Logan and Jean's relationship are getting tighter, closer, it's like they're sewn together and she's just there.
letting things be,
letting everything go it's way like nothing happened between them.
"are you seriously going to stand there and just watch them?" rogue scoffs while holding a cup of coffee, scooting herself next to her friend who seems to be swimming in her own thoughts â her mind was blank while leaning into the balcony as the stars shines bright, she's well aware of the company that rogue and kitty offered her.
"didn't know you're a masochist now." kitty teased making rogue let out a low chuckle as she sips her coffee â no reaction from her, she just breaths heavily.
the atmosphere was quiet for a moment, only the sound of crickets was audible but she broke it after seconds â "I don't know, if he wanted me in the first place it wouldn't be like this."
"I mean like, the real thing."
rogue and kitty exchanged glances feeling bad for their friend, rogue looked at her for a moment then let's out a heavy sigh.
"you should talk to him, you know, to have a closure of what you two did isn't just games."
"I wish it was that easy." she says looking back at rogue, "I've made numerous attempts but when it's the actual thing and he's there, it's so hard to speak."
rogue and kitty couldn't find the perfect words to help her put her hopes up, they haven't been in her place â she's not asking for it either, she's doing okay and she appreciated the time her friends are putting on her to help her with this.
"if you wouldn't try, you wouldn't know right?" kitty spoke
she understood both of her friends suggestion to what to do, it's easy when you think about it but when you're actually there the aching feeling that slowly crawls up to her throat was getting her,
but she couldn't just sit there and wait because at some point he'll probably never try because he's focused on someone else.
cinnamon girl, is that what she is right now?
he's addicted on something and couldn't bring himself to care about her, anymore?
she wouldn't say that he completely shut her off his life, sometimes when they would run against each other, they would exchange glances but never would say a thing â sometimes during dinner the whole team would talk, then Logan would agree to her words â after missions Logan would check up the other people and she's one of them, but then she'll just smile and nod.
he's there, but not completely there.
she hated how casual it is for him to just walk pass by her, stand next to her like nothing happened, talk to jean as if she wasn't there.
this wasn't them numerous days ago, she's longing for it and it hurts so bad.
she just wanted to run away from it, but with him and jean being in the same roof as hers â it's so hard to find an excuse.
during dinner, she was so quiet as she was eating this whatever food it was â she couldn't even think straight, all of the people that surrounds her are laughing and she's just there drowning herself in a pool filled thoughts.
"right, (y/n)?" rogue chuckles nudging her arms which made her quickly looked around the people in the table, almost feeling like she just woke up in from daydream which made everyone around the table confused and exchange glances.
"yeah, yeah." she nodded awkwardly chuckling looking back at her food, kitty and rogue exchanging looks as if they already know the reason behind her behavior right now.
to fill the awkward atmosphere gambit created a joke making the whole table laugh again as if nothing happened, there she was so low in her food.
she glared around the people making sure their attention wasn't on hers because honestly it was that embarrassing, but then her eyes landed on Logan who quickly looked back.
no shit.
she glared back at her food and continue to finish it off so she could finally leave the table and rest.
on the other hand, Logan looked confused yet seem to already be puzzling the reasons why her behaviors like that right now.
later that night after the dinner, rogue and kitty said their goodnights to her and made their way to their rooms â while she was walking in the hall she was still lost of what's happening around her, she couldn't help but to think, think, and think.
out of nowhere she had this urge to stop walking, and yeah right.
Logan was in the hall too,making his way somewhere she doesn't know.
Logan also stopped his tracks and looked at her, both of their faces blank.
What do I do?
Should I?
she's fighting with herself inside, wether to approach him and talk about it or just once let it go.
her chest was rising heavily, it's visible and the tension right now is almost compacted as if there's no air.
"Logan."
"(y/n)."
both of their names slipped from each's lips on the same time â is he aware?
"can we talk? please." she exhales feeling the aching torns building up her throat once again, almost choking her â Logan nodded, she gave the somewhere private look and he shrugged agreeing with her.
You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight. â You don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight.
they are in the balcony, with the cold wind feeding the almost dry atmosphere â she can't really explain what she felt but it's almost like she's trapped in a box and she's slowly exploding, it's an overwhelming feeling having him here.
she doesn't know how to start and he's just standing there waiting for her to say the words he needed to hear, she gulps and looked at him with her eyes reflecting the bright colors of the stars and moon.
"it's, about us." she finally spoke, her voice almost cracking through the words â she's fighting the urge not to cry right now, her chest just feels so heavy.
she can see in her eyes how Logan reacted when the word us slips from her lips, he knows that what she's talking about and if she's in the right state she would've plucked her mind to get under his to read whatever he's thinking right now.
he didn't respond, "Logan, what am I to you? Are you really going to shut me off like I was someone who you didn't know." she says with her fist tightening into a ball and her voice raising a little â frustration and pain.
"Logan, are you really going to act like this forever, like I wasn't here?" she says with a firm tone.
"are you really going to forget about what we had?"
"those kisses, sweet nothings, touch, and whatever the fuck it is!"
"(y/n)."
"don't fucking call me now, Logan, I am so fucking hurt." she says pointing at his chest out of frustration, she felt like exploding right now.
beads of tears was already slipping in her cheeks, her chest rising continuously.
he was dumbfounded, not being able to find the right words to defend himself â because it was true, it all happened and he couldn't just pretend that it didn't happened.
"tell me, those fucking things that we had is nothing to you!"
"that's not true."
"then why!" she sobs trying her best to keep her voice down, "Logan, why?"
"I don't know."
"what do you mean you don't know?" she sobs again feeling so frustrated, "Logan, I'm sure those things are easy to forget shit."
"if it's just fucking, flirting, comforting to you. Logan to me it's the real fucking thing, what do you call that again? Love?"
she never once wanted to admit that she's in love, she hated love, they both hated love and all this time they both believed that what they did is just nothing, something they can easily forget â sorry for breaking it to him, she fooled herself for thinking it's love.
"I never learned to care until I met you."
"I never learned to love until I met you." she says almost choking from her own spit as tears continuously pouring.
again, Logan couldn't bring himself to speak â it's not like he doesn't care to what's happening right now, he just didn't know this is what she felt all this time. He thought she felt the way he does, all of this are nonsense.
"I thought it was all nothing." he says back, "I thought you and I agreed that we're doing that no strings attached."
"but you said I love you, and I'm sorry clinged to that but I hoped." she quickly responded, "my mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may like me the way that I do was stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since." she says with her voice cracking mid sentence.
"I didn't mean to make you feel that way, but you know we both agreed right? that we don't have something."
"and that was my mistake, but you couldn't just say you love me like it was nothing."
she still remembers it perfect in her head, she can still hear how he said it during sex, while they're just together, kissing her forehead and mumbles I love you before mission â it was all nothing?
"I just wished you could've told me before you," she pauses wiping her tears, in fact she couldn't even bring herself to say her name.
"you could've told me that before meeting Jean, because I felt like I'm some kind of toy that you got sicked of playing."
it was nothing but quiet for a few seconds but Logan cutted the silence as he attempted to explain for himself.
"I was the first person Jean got closed with and during that time you were nowhere to be found, maybe you're there but so far."
"I thought you didn't want me anymore."
she did, she did spaced away from him thinking he doesn't her anymore â it's her mistake for not talking this out ever since she felt jealous.
"but that's not a reason to completely shut me off, you could've ended whatever we are doing in a good way so I wouldn't hope anymore that you would still be knocking at my door, to talk to me." she added
they're are both standing at their own points.
she already felt tired at this moment and just wanted to cry her eyes out in her room and Logan was completely lost right now, conflicted between Her and Jean.
she already know that he wouldn't at least try to explain that he once loved her like she did, she's so dumb for even thinking about it.
"then I'm sorry, if that's what you wanted to hear."
why is he making it sound like she's demanding for an apology? she doesn't want to see him anymore, she's so miserable right now.
she sighs, she doesn't even know what to say now everything is messing up with her head, she already said what she have to say to him and it made her chest lighter now â but there's still an open wound in her heart right now.
"I love her, but I appreciated you."
and when she heard those words it felt like the world came crashing to her and continuously slaps her on the face, Logan then turned back, having himself looking back at her before walking way.
as much as she wanted to stop him, she thought it's for the best to let him be â it already happened, it's clear that he didn't want her from the start.
So this is it?
That's it?
Should I be happy that he appreciated me?
Logan could still here muffles and cries that night, he was in his bed trying to shake off the feeling â this weird feeling, he knew that he should be sorry but in the first place he thought both of them doesn't believe in love, he clinged into that.
He'd be lying if he didn't admit he didn't mean to say those words, those sweet nothings, and those love gestures â he was conflicted between the forming feelings for her and the fact that she once admitted that she doesn't believe in love.
so he stopped himself and found Jean, Jean wasn't so scared of showing her love and the slow burning start of their romance â if he knew that they're both in love from the start maybe he wouldn't be here in this bed right now remembering the words she have said.
he was a jerk and he knows that, but he it'll make things tougher if he admitted that he also felt something for her â it would be useless now that him and jean had this thing now, it'll hurt her more.
Last minute regret, he's going to carry this forever.
"I have to find my myself professor, I think this is just not for me." she mutters underneath her breath while looking at the man in front of her, Professor Charles Xavier.
she professor was dumbfounded for her sudden departure with the reason of she felt like what she's doing wasn't really for her â as much as professor x wanted to disagree because of her helpful abilities that put the team together, it's almost like him and her are alike, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.
there's this energy that tells him that she is in agony, a sense of lost, as if she was in grief â he didn't bother to read her mind, it feels too wrong especially when she look like this.
"if that what makes you happy, I am delighted to fully support your decision, I just wanted you to know that the door is open when you wanted to come back, (y/n)." the professor said with a grin on his face, which somehow sent her a sense of comfort.
"I am holding into that." she smiles, but she remembered something before going.
"please don't tell them, the only people who are aware are rogue and kitty, please?"
"as you wish."
and that she traveled where she can, wherever her feet brings her finding the peace that she wanted â she wanted to leave who she was, wanting her old self dead and forgotten.
as much as it hurts her, she wanted to space away not wanting to drown herself once again â maybe she really love him that much that she reached this point.
Logan was her first love, and she knows it's going to take a long time forgetting that face.
she changed everything about her from head to toes, cut and dyed her hair, attempted to find a new style which she successfully did and to forget everything in the past leaving them where they belong.
she found herself in Switzerland, wherein she built a flower shop and when she's not busy she'll be a part time teacher in preschool â with that being said, that's the same place she met her husband.
he always buys flowers in her shop for his mother who was sick, there he learned his interest towards her â Long story short, they got married and shared three children; James, Julien, and Peter.
and ever since she met her husband she forgot about Logan, not even thinking's where he is, how is he doing, if he is still actually alive â she never once think of him, even the school and her friends.
"Mommy! The school bus is here!" when she heard a familiar voice coming from down the attic she quickly stuffed the box and what it contains somewhere that wouldn't be found by any of the people inside this house except her, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath.
"I'm done, hold on." she says before grabbing a random photograph with Logan and tearing it apart quickly making her way down the attic, handing it to James as fast as possible.
"kids!" she calls out as she walk fast guiding the kids out of the house with the big yellow bus waiting outside.
:: additional note â LMK IF YOU WANTED THIS BUT LOGAN'S POV CUZ LIKE I FELT I DID LOGAN DIRTY WITH THIS ONE đ THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC SO FAR đ I'M TIRED BYE.
áŻâ
pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission â REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW ARE APPRECIATED !
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#james howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#jean grey#jean grey x logan howlett#x men last stand#professor x#charles xavier#rogue#gambit#kitty pryde#magneto#erik lehnsherr#hugh jackman#Logan#x men first class#storm xmen#deadpool#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#ryan reynolds
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when you know you know | tom blyth
summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)
an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times đ also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a
âdonât look now, but the guy behind you is staring.â your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.
âheâs cute,â your other friend, layne, joined in.
your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. âsomeoneâs got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.â
you rolled your eyes. âi donât even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.â
âhe has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think thatâs all you need to know about your future man.â meg said.
âyou just described almost every boy here,â you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. âi like being single anyways. i have more me time.â
âbabe, we know you donât like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you donât like him then thatâs that. we wonât push you to talk to any one else ever again.â layne said.
âjust this one time.â you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.
you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldnât figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.
you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.
âoh my god, iâm so sorry.â you immediately apologize.
âitâs okay, um are you . . . okay?â he asked shyly.
âyeah, Iâm good. iâm sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.â you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.
âiâm tom.â he introduced himself.
âiâm yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. itâs a habit.â you chuckled nervously.
get it together, yn
âno, itâs fine, wasnât really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?â he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it mightâve sounded creepy.
âno, iâm with my friends. iâm sorry, again, i noticed the accent, youâre british. are you visiting good olâ new york?â you questioned.
âstudying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?â
âiâm actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. itâs my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.â
from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.
âdoes anyone know how to lip read?â
âshhh! shut up layne!â
âwhoâs gonna tell her thatâs not the guy we were talking about?â
âi donât want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.â
#tom blyth one shot#tom blyth fanfic#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth fanfiction#billy the kid#tbosas#coriolanus snow#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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yang jungwon fic recs!
â
the language of flowers - @soobnny (jungwonâs just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its ownerâs grandson finds solace in you.)
â
GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST - @snowbabys (you heard jungwon isnât one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and itâs not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.)
â
âŁď¸ âŻâŻ youâre mine . - @goldenhypen
â
infrunami - @jennaissantes (PROMPT: âfixing their tieâ)
â
LOVE NEWS ! â YJW SMAU - @hanniluvi (BREAKING NEWS! valentineâs is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didnât think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where youâll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints youâve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. thereâs no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe itâs just fake or actual love news?)
â
ADMIRING YOU ! - @hanniluvi (You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma cafĂŠ. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?)
â
nice to meet you, boyfriend!â⥠â y.jw - @delcakoo (when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays alongâŚ)
â
scaring a guy away - @delcakoo
â
cat boy - @jaeyunverse (yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwonâs cat plays cupid and sets you up.)
â
iâm your cat, meow - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (in which jungwon is jealous of a cat)
â
classmate au | yang jungwon - @soobnny
â
Baked with Love - @demusewriter (You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place.)
â
in my head - yjw - @j1nniee (youâve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; heâs self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, youâve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohooâŚ). with no other choice, youâre forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.)
â
A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART - @snwpcktz (the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?)
â
â attractive things jungwon does ⨞ - @aakomii
â
super shy - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (jungwon isnât used to having company when heâs studying - especially when the company is one of the most popular girls in school)
â
âĄđ START NOW ! - @loveywon (you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in.)
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fic recs#enhypen x reader#kpop fic recs#jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon fluff#yang jungwon#enhypen jungwon#enhypen fluff#jungwon oneshot#enhypen oneshot#jungwon fic#enhypen fic#jungwon imagines#jungwon oneshots#enhypen oneshots
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