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endzithefangirl · 3 months ago

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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula 1

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buckysdollbarnes · 3 months ago

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you are in love - Masterlist

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

Warnings: beefy!bucky, injury, mild language, mentions of crime, a bit of angst, eventual smut (MINORS DNI) , kind of slow burn ig, overwhelming fluff tbh

a/n: this will be a multi-part series and I will try my very best to upload regularly, not sure how many parts that will be so there's only a few placeholders for now, but it will definitely be a bit of a longer fic! im currently in college AND working so this is a passion project <3 I'd love to hear your feedback, my asks are always open! the chapters are also all based on lyrics from Taylor Swift's You Are In Love, one of my favorite love songs of all time. hope you all enjoy!!!

one - one look, dark room

two - meant just for you

three - time moved too fast

four - you play it back

TBC

#bucky fic #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

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Puzzle Pieces Pt. 2

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Part 1

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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Normally, the inside of a freezer would be packed with boxes of meat or other cold food. Normally, a freezer would just be a place where workers popped in, grabbed the item they were looking for, and popped out. Unfortunally, this was no normal freezer. Behind the large wall of maze like boxes, was a large room.

Miguel's lazy gaze followed out of the maze and into the ice cold room. There, in the middle, was a man hanging upside down. Miguel's men all moved away from the hanging man, waiting for their boss' order. Miguel let out a quick sigh, watching his breathe.

"I only like to be this cold in the winter," Miguel started as he walked around the upside down, "What month is it?"

The prisoner just spat towards the floor, refusing to answer. His scowl towards Miguel and his men was filled with anger. Miguel scoffed in response and snapped his fingers. In and instant, Ben punched the man in the stomach. Peter bend down and grabbed the enemy by the hair.

"I don't like repeating myself."

"Tch, September." The man hissed. Miguel scoffed again,

"So winter is still a ways away." He stood in front of the man and pulled out a large meat cutting tool, "Vulture has some nerve having his men enter my territory. Looks like I'll have to teach him a lesson again."

"Kill me all you want, but Vulture won't be shaken by the likes of you!"

"Kill?" Miguel snorted, his cruel laugh echoing the freezer, "You must be new. We Spiders don't kill-"

Peter and Ben dropped the man to the ground, ignoring his grunts. The two brought him to a chair and held him down. Miguel's smirk grew wider as he approached the man slowly,

"Simplemente romperemos cada hueso de tu cuerpo. Una vez que hayas aprendido tu error, haremos lo que hacen las arañas y te sacaremos de tu miseria. (We'll just break every bone in your body. Once you learned your mistake, then we'll do as Spiders do and put you out of your misery.)"

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It was finally time for you to go home. Your body was exhausted from working. If everyday was going to be like this, you honestly might not last. Slowly making your way out of the supermarket with some groceries, you whimpered. After walking a block, you finally cried. It was such a rough day.

The sheer pressure of everyone's presence was going to break you. Rubbing your eyes, you whimpered as people passed you by without a care. That was normal. It was normal. Shuddering a sigh, you continued to walk to your new home. No one ever checked up on you. No one ever thought to care how your feelings were. So why bother now?

Once you finally arrived home, you put your groceries away, showered and plopped onto your bed. You were too tired to make dinner. Too tired to check your laundry. Reaching for your phone, you double checked your alarms in case you fell asleep. As you did, you saw a text from one of your friends.

'Hey, so I know you don't want Eddie to know you moved, but like, he seems really worried.'

Your eyes started to tear up. Some friend. They were falling right into Eddie's palm. This was why you only told your parents and like two people about your sudden move. You had hoped they would keep a secret, but you should have known better. Which was why you never told them where in NYC you were.

'Don't tell him.' Was all you replied with.

This wasn't fair. You moved away for a reason. All you could do was hope that your parents and your two friends would stay quiet. Sobbing into your pillow, you curled into a ball and wept yourself to sleep.

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If any part of you was ready for a vacation, it was your eyes. They had bags all packed up and ready to go. You had been living in Nueva York for about one month now. It was still a hard adjustment for you. The trains scared you, your neighborhood scared you, your job scared you and your past haunted you.

"The usual?" Your supervisor questioned.

You raised your head tiredly, knowing that phrase by now. It was the handsome man from your first day. He only appeared every now and then to either pick something up or to do into the freezer. If not him, then one of his men.

"Number two, zero, nine, nine."

"Yes, sir."

That was a code you still couldn't memorize. Once your supervisor left, you slowly turned to place your wrapped meat into the display case. Your gaze focused on the handsome man before you, captivated by his intense stare. You could feel your heart race as it felt like he was glaring into your soul.

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Miguel had entered the supermarket, wanting to grab a quick bite to eat. He was in the area and wanted to escape his lackeys. They were about to have a meeting with another mafia gang, but Miguel had no intension of making peace.

Approaching the deli, Miguel inhaled deeply. It was busy and loud. He tilted his head, looking for the shy bunny, aka you. Once he spotted you, Miguel furrowed his brows. He approached the supervisor, demanding his usual. Once the Supervisor left, Miguel got a better look at you.

You faced him and froze. Those wide glossy eyes of yours had a wave of exhaustion. Your skin looked paler despite the redness of your cheeks. Miguel could see you tremble as you made eye contact with him. Your face turning even redder. It made him chuckle. Miguel was both amused and annoyed.

"You've gotten thinner, conejita (bunny). Are you not eating properly?" Miguel asked out of concern. Your lips parted ever so slightly,

"N-Not...um...N-Not really...B-But that's m-my fault." You whispered, shaking from his pressence.

Miguel's eyes widen as he finally heard your soft and sweet voice. It was like honey to his ears. You were so quiet that he almost didn't hear you either. Miguel watched as you played with your fingers, your sleeves rubber banded against your wrists. He furrowed his brows, wondering why they weren't rolled up any higher.

"What's your name?" Miguel asked. You flinched, glancing up at him again,

"(Y/N)." You answered.

"So sorry, sir! She's still learning the ropes here!" The Supervisor panicked as he rushed over with Miguel's order. Miguel nearly shot him a glare,

"I spoke to her first." He said and returned his gaze towards you, "It was a pleasure, (Y/N). Until next time."

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You felt your breathing return to normal as Miguel parted you with a goodbye. The way your name rolled off his tongue sounded so sweet. It almost made your heart flutter. Almost. Your fear of him was far greater than admiring him.

Returning to work, you couldn't get Miguel off your mind. You had known his name for a while, but now he finally knew yours. That and he even noticed that you lost weight. Not even your closest friends or family noticed back home. Your shoulders sunk at the thought. Were you losing too much weight now?

It was hard. You always got home tired and didn't feel like doing much of anything. Whenever you did manage to make food, it was something simple and unhealthy. This lifestyle wasn't working out for you. Perhaps you needed to schedule a doctor's appointment and get professional advice?

"M-Maybe...I'll do that...later." He mumbled to yourself.

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Miguel made his way out of the supermarket, still thinking about you. He entered his vehicle, letting his driver take him back to his headquarters. You were so shy. Not like any of the other girls. Leaning back in his seat, Miguel glanced over to the woman whom he fucked earlier that day.

What did he have to do to hear your moans? You weren't going to give him anything fake. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he licked his lips at the thought. His cock buried deep into your shaking body. Your moans coming out almost pornographic as he ravished you. Oh, the thought couldn't be anymore sweeter.

"Parece que tengo un conejito que cazar. (Looks like I have a bunny to hunt.)"

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Next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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tossawary · 11 months ago

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There is something so funny to me about "Monster of the Week" format sci-fi and fantasy shows that are stuck in one location, especially when the supernatural is hidden from general society for whatever reason and that location is just not big enough to even have a hope of properly covering any of this stuff up. Like, if weird shit is regularly going down in one corner of New York City, then some people in that neighborhood are still going to notice that something is up, but you can handwave some of the usual "why does anyone with any ability to move still live here?!" due to the fact that it's a big, anonymous city where a lot of people don't really know any of their neighbors very well.

But with smaller towns? Whatever this town may have been originally crafted to be gets transformed and/or retconned by the wild stuff that happens over the course of the show. Sometimes this is purposefully done by the writers and sometimes not! The plot changes the location as much as it does the characters, whether you like it or not!

(I don't mean to say that big cities in sci-fi and fantasy cannot be similarly transformed. The NYC of comic book universes very much becomes a different place with teenage mutant ninja turtles running around fighting demons and people from space. And it's hard to beat what Gotham City has going on! And weird shit does absolutely happen in small towns too! I just think this genre effect is even more pronounced and maybe funnier in smaller towns where these things are supposedly "a secret".)

Sunnydale, California, in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" becomes this place where half of the town have to know about the supernatural or are supernatural themselves. Too much has happened on this show! The Hellmouth has changed this place into something that is now in many ways just pretending to be "A Normal Town". And it gets so amusingly ridiculous that the show acknowledges it by making jokes and going with this flow.

People in Metropolis in "Smallville" must think that Smallville, Kansas, is the Secret Meth Lab Central of small towns or something with the way that buildings are blowing up and people get killed every few months. The quaint name of this town is doing SO MUCH heavy lifting for its reputation here. Clark Kent says that he's from Smallville in this universe and some people go, "Ha, a real farm boy, huh? Hope you're not finding the big city too tough for you!" and other people must immediately go, "Oh, shit. You've definitely seen a murder victim before." And Clark can only be like, "...Yeah... :("

#tossawary watching #btvs #smallville #tossawary dc #character death #clark kent

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laurentpark · 1 year ago

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Behind Closed Doors — Yoo Jimin

pairing: karina x aespa! reader

summary: you and your girlfriend managed to keep your relationship a secret and away from the public eye, but that doesn't mean people are convinced you two aren't inlove.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Being bored inside the dorm's bedroom with no one else in it but yourself, you decide to open youtube in hopes to find something that could cure your boredome. You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head to the side, seeing a certain video sparking your interest.

"Hm, what is this?"

Karina and Y/N being madly in love with each other for seven minutes 'straight'

You let an amused laugh escape from your lips and examine the thumbnail of the video; It was you and your member, Jimin, known as Karina in the kpop industry smiling while looking at each other, lovingly.

Why not?

You thought to yourself before clicking on the video.

Scene 1

"So Y/N I've heard you're a massive fan of the harry potter franchise?"

After the interviewer mentioned the name 'harry potter', she managed to grab Y/N's attention and nodded her head, squealing in excitement. The girl then proceeded to go on a four minute rant about the entire franchise.

Jimin gazed at her the entire time, listening to every word her member said with a loving expression and smile placed on her face.

Jimin didn't even noticed how she was staring at Y/N the entire time until her member looked at her with a confused expression.

Once they made eye contact, the leader immediately looked away, avoiding her gaze and dropped her smile.

"Why did you look at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Nevermind."

Scene 2

"Is it starting?"

"It is."

"Hi everyone!"

Y/N's cheery voice greets everyone who was watching their v-live. It was just her and Jimin at the moment since the other members have already fallen asleep.

"Pipe down, they might wake up." The leader refers to the other members and scolded Y/N, which she laughs and apologises for.

Jimin furrowed her brows, confused to why you were covering your face with your hands during the live. She turns to look at Y/N with a concerned expression.

"Why are you covering your face? MY's can't see you." Jimin comments.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, still covering her face. "I'm not wearing any makeup, I look ugly."

The leader shakes her head and gently brings Y/N's hands down, to reveal her face, no longer covering it.

"You look beautiful." Jimin couldn't help but smile after seeing her member's face getting red at her comment. "You are beautiful."

Y/N smiles back at her leader and holds her hand. She looks back at the phone, seeing the comments go wild after witnessing their wholesome moment.

Widening her eyes, Y/N drops Jimin's hand. The leader looked at her offended, but Y/N gestured to the phone.

Jimin snapped back to reality, realizing they were on live and smiled at the camera nervously.

"Anyway-"

Scene 3

"This is so pretty!" Y/N comments after a certain bracelet caught her attention at the store.

Jimin, who was the one holding the camera looked over at her member's direction. "Then buy it."

Y/N first checked the price and lets out a defeated sigh, "It's too expensive. Let's look around a bit more."

Jimin frowned once she saw Y/N putting the bracelet back, "You sure? It seems like you really wanted it."

"I'm sure I can find something much more cheaper. Let's just go."

She takes her leader's hand and drags her away from the store and Jimin lets her. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Jimin looks back at the store, taking note of it's name.

cut

The camera focused on the group, arriving at the airport. The aespa members waved and bowed at the countless paparazzis and fans who waited for their arrival.

However, there was something that caught the fans attention after watching their NYC vlog.

Y/N was wearing the bracelet that she wished for during time there.

Scene 4

"My most prized possession?"

Y/N reads the comment on her live out loud, while taking a big bite of the pizza that she ordered. She thinks for awhile before looking down at her bracelet and smiled at it.

After munching down her food, she lifts her arm up so they viewers could see the bracelet.

"This bracelet because someone very special bought it for me."

After the comments flooded her with the question to who bought it, Y/N laughs at them and answers,

"It was Jimin-unnie. Who else could it be?"

Scene 5

"Y/N-unnie, alot of people are curious. You're really pretty and we were wondering what's your ideal type?" The fan questioned her, through the fan call.

"Hmm..." The girls thinks for a moment, before replying, "Someone caring, hardworking, and thoughtful. That's it."

"I see..." The fan trailed off before continuing, "Do you have Karina-unnie in mind?"

Y/N bursted out laughing, covering her face so they won't see the pink tint that's starting to appear on her cheeks after hearing the fan's witty comment.

"I'll leave that up to your imagination."

Scene 6

Karina glared at the male model who posed with you for the givenchy shoot, her jaw clenching once the model placed his hand ontop of your head. A snort can be heard beside her and she turns to the side to see her member, Winter pointing at the camera directly at the leader.

"Karina-unnie, what's wrong?" She teased her.

Jimin pouted her lips and turned away from the camera and soon walked out, so she wouldn't have to see Y/N with the male model again, leaving Winter laughing at the leader's action.

Scene 7

"Y/N, don't you look beautiful for tonight!" The male interview complimented her look for the Cannes festival.

Y/N stopped by and smiled at him, "Thank you! I'm so nervous because there's so many famous people here but I'm also really excited!"

"Oh, pretty girl. Don't be nervous! We all love you and I'm sure you'll shine like a jewel this night!"

"Thank you so much for your kin- oh!"

Karina interrupted your interview by giving you a quick kiss on your exposed shoulder, leaving her lipstick mark on it before walking away.

She looked at the leader with a confused expression, before turning back to the interviewer with a confused smile.

"Oh, I didn't know you and your member were dating. Seems like she got jealous didn't she?"

Y/N widened her eyes and immediately shakes her head. "No, no! We're just very close friends."

The interviewer didn't seem too convinced and narrowed his eyes at you out of suspicion but went on with the interview anyway.

"What are you watching?"

After the video ended, Jimin appears out of nowhere inside your room. She walks over to your bed, and you moved so she could get more space. You showed her the video you were watching with a giddy smile and she laughs at the title.

"Do you really think they're convinced?" She asks you, wrapping her arms around behind you and places her chin on your shoulder.

"There's alot of videos like this." You chuckle, scrolling down the recommendation page. Blinking in confusion, you tilt your head to the side and show her a thumbnail of a certain video with you and giselle.

"This one's about me and Giselle."

"That's ridiculous." Jimin states, rolling her eyes in annoyance and holds on to you tightly. "The videos should only be about me and you."

You giggle when you felt her pressing wet kisses against your cheeks.

"Do I have to make our relationship more obvious and be much more affectionate to you in public so that the videos can only be about you and I?"

"You get jealous too easily, you know that right?"

"Can't help it. Everyone's trying to steal your attention away from me."

#aespa #aespa x reader #karina #karina x reader #kpop x reader #kpop #winter #giselle #ningning #yoo jimin #jimin x reader

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lowaltitude · 2 months ago

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Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.

“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”

“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”

I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”

“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”

In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.

As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.

ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?

He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.

ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.

ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.

I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.

“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”

“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.

As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.

After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.

ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?

I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.

The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?

Finally, his message came through.

MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈

I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.

ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.

ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉

I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.

ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.

I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?

When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.

Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.

Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?

I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.

ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.

My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.

ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!

I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.

Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.

As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.

"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.

"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.

Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"

The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.

Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.

I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.

To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."

Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.

"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."

She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."

Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:

Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive

MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.

Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.

My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.

Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.

Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:

MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.

The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.

My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"

I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.

As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.

In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?

As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.

I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.

As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.

On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.

ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?

The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?

My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.

The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.

MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?

I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?

ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?

I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?

His response came quickly this time.

MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?

ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.

My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?

There was a longer pause before his next message.

MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see me?

My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.

I typed again, my heart pounding.

ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.

There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.

The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.

MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.

I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

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covenists · 1 year ago

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✦ OH DAMN NEVER SEEN THAT COLOR BLUE, C. LECLERC

red is indeed his color, but what if he switched to blue?

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

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ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

charles_leclerc

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jexnkookie · 4 months ago

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The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 11]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 4k

Author's Note: *A brief spoiler* Shout out to Barcelona, which is a real bar that's actually on 55th street in NYC. My last trip to NYC, I was there several times with my friends because they had great drinks at a really great price for the city. Soooo if you're ever there, check it out! lol

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

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Series Masterlist

Love, as an emotional commodity, is something that you never know you’re low on, until you find it supplied in abundance. On a stormy Saturday afternoon, with the rain hitting the living room windows of Jung Kook’s Manhattan apartment, you felt his lips on your neck, and you couldn’t help but think that you had found that abundance of love in him.

You straddled him on the sofa, keeping your hands in his hair as he peppered your skin with kisses and soft nibbles, holding you in place by your waist with his strong hands. He gripped tight, hoping you wouldn’t leave, although he knew it was inevitable. Ever since the night he had kissed you, he became insatiable. His lips seemingly begging for more and more, and praying that you had an endless supply.

“Don’t go.” He mumbled into your skin. “Just stay here with me.”

“You know I promised him that I’d visit.” You whispered, not wanting to say his name. It would only remind you of a pain you wanted to end, but that you were scared to leave. Life without him seemed like a vast, dark unknown, and you weren’t sure that you were ready to jump head first yet.

“I know.” Jung Kook said, understanding even though his tone was sad. He pulled away, and rested his head on the cushion. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Stop.” You shook your head, looking down.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me.” He said, rubbing your skin where his hands rested as your eyes met his. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve thought so since I first met you.”

“But… What about your ex-fiancé?” You asked innocently.

“She’s my ex for a reason.” He explained, taking one of his hands to intertwine with yours. “Do you know why?”

You shook your head no, and gripped his hand back.

“She wasn’t you.” Jung Kook admitted. One confession felt like the breaking of a dam, allowing the rest to pour out. “Not her. Not any of the other women I’ve tried being with. None of them were you. None of them took you off my mind, ever.”

You stared at him in surprise, your lips parted, and your heart beating. For the first time, you thought that maybe, the dark unknown of leaving, might actually be the dark brown of Jung Kook’s eyes. Maybe that was what came next. The road wasn’t scary, or even unknown at all. It was familiar, real, and safe.

Jung Kook looked at you with a longing kind of softness, and continued holding your hand, as though if you gave him a sign, he’d take you away from the mess. The hurt, the pain, the confusing feelings in your chest. Something in the way he looked at you, held you, and kissed you, told you that he knew how to make it go away.

You didn’t know what to say, so you leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. You hoped it would suffice, and when you felt Jung Kook’s lips turn upward into a smile, you knew he understood exactly what you meant. The way you kissed him whispered, “Thank you… and, I see you. Finally. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You better go.” He whispered back, feeling confident in your return. “He’s expecting you.”

“Ok.” You replied. You gave him one last quick peck, before darting off into your bedroom to get ready for your visit. Jung Kook stayed seated on the couch, head thrown back, with a smile he couldn’t dream of erasing. Butterflies floated in his stomach, and his heart was beating hard in his chest.

You saw him. You really, truly saw him. Finally.

—————————————————————————————————————-

Jimin was the first to see you when you walked into the meeting room. Anticipating your visit, his mind was quickly thumping through thoughts. He knew, much to his own sadness, that he was playing with borrowed time. You were slipping away, and quickly. His engagement seemed to come with a hidden expiration date, and he was the one that stamped it.

When you came closer, Jimin stood up nervously, absentmindedly picking at the skin by his nails. He glanced down, and noticed your engagement ring was still missing. It had been weeks, and you never put it back on, not even to see him.

“Hi, angel.” He greeted, fighting back tears in his eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You replied softly. It wasn’t a lie. You do miss him when he’s gone. You miss Jimin so deeply, in fact, that it keeps you with him, and makes you forget the pain he causes when he’s around. Sure, you think, he hurts me. But living without him? Imagine how that would feel.

“Can… Can I kiss you, honey? Please?” He asks. You furrow your brows at the afraid tone of his voice. The man in front of you isn’t the man you recognize. Not your Jiminie. This isn’t the man who boldly negotiates in a conference room, or makes love to you passionately in the dead of night. This is a new Jimin, who looks much more like a scared child, than a confident man.

“Of course.” You answer, your voice almost silent.

Jimin smiles for the first time since you’ve seen him that day, as he takes your hand, leans in, and places his lips to yours. His kiss was weak, withholding, and scarce. It was a stark contrast to the way Jung Kook kissed you earlier that morning. Jung Kook chased after your lips, but Jimin shied away.

“I love you.” Jimin whispered. It sounded self-conscious and apprehensive, even to his own ears. His insecurities continued to bubble up in his chest. He faced them head on, without a drop of alcohol in his system, and it was hell. Without the intoxication, he could see the fragility of everything, and he wasn’t steady enough to keep it from shattering.

Especially not when he glanced down, to the right side of your neck. It was faint, barely noticeable to the naked eye. But Jimin, afraid of anything that could completely disintegrate his heart, had spotted his worst nightmare immediately; a love mark. Someone had kissed you and had touched you the way only he should, and his breathing hitched, as he knew exactly who it was.

Part of him wanted to break down; drop to the floor and beg for you to stay with him, like the vulnerable man he always knew he truly was. Part of him wanted to find Jung Kook, and throw the sharp fragments of his broken heart at the young lawyer until a piece landed a cut. He wanted to cry, and scream, and break something. He wanted to drink, more so than he had ever wanted to drink before. He wanted to sink into an abyss, and let every insecurity he’s ever had eat away at him until there was nothing left.

“My love,” He whispered, his voice eerily calm, not at all reflecting his inner thoughts. “Is he good to you?”

“What?” You responded, pulling away from him to meet his gaze.

“Is he good to you?” Jimin asked again, voice still. “Is he kind to you? Are you happy?”

“Jimin, I don’t-”

“Because that’s all that matters to me. You should be happy. You deserve that, angel.”

“Baby, you’re scaring me.” You said, grabbing both of his hands. “What’s going on?”

“I love you.” He replies, his voice turning shaky. “I would’ve done anything, anything, to make you happy.”

You put two and two together, and realized he somehow knew about Jung Kook, although you weren’t aware that he had left a mark on your neck. It clicked, that Jimin was spiraling.

“Jimin, you’re never going to be alone.” You respond, tightening your grip on his hands. “I’m so confused about what to do about so many things, but one thing I know, is that I never want you to be alone. I’ll be with you, no matter what.”

Jimin just smiled, and shook his head ‘no' through tears. He pulled his hands from you, and stared at your face; the face of a beautiful woman, who he knew he’d love for the rest of his life.

“I think you should go, Y/N.” He said softly. “I can’t do this right now.”

—————————————————————————-

Jung Kook was in the kitchen, making fresh bruschetta to surprise you from what he could only imagine was a hard visit. But when you entered through the door early, kicking off your shoes with tears in your eyes, Jung Kook knew it was worse than what he had imagined.

“Y/N?” He asked, wiping his hands on his dish towel. “Hey, c’mere. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

“He knows.” You explained in tears, holding onto him. “I don’t know how, but he’s so sad and hurt, and I never wanted to hurt him. I don’t want him to be alone, but I’ve been lonely too, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Shhh, hey, it’s alright.” Jung Kook comforts you, rubbing your back.

Inside, Jung Kook’s anger was hitting a boiling point. Never one to have a temper, Jung Kook had been pushed to his limits, seeing you upset because of Jimin once again. To him, Jimin had done everything to push you away, and then when you decide you’ve had enough, he guilt trips you into staying. It seems to be a pattern, again and again, spinning you around and around. He knew you saw it, too, but your love and connection for Jimin made it difficult to break the cycle. Jung Kook hoped that somehow, he could provide the breaks.

“I don’t like seeing you cry.” Jung Kook said, mustering up gentleness in his tone. “I hate it, actually, because you did nothing wrong, Y/N. You’re allowed to put yourself and your happiness first.”

“I know, but-”

“Nope.” Jung Kook cuts you off. “No ‘but.’ You deserve to be happy, and I don’t think you know that. You don’t deserve any of this. You don’t deserve to deal with his drinking, or with his mood swings, or with him throwing things and yelling at you. And you don’t deserve to cry and be upset when you did nothing wrong.”

“But… wasn’t it wrong?”

“You think our kiss was wrong?” Jung Kook asked, knowing you didn’t really mean your question. “Y/N, why do you stay with him?”

“I love him.”

“I know you do. But that wasn’t really what I asked.” Jung Kook replied. He picked you up to sit you on the kitchen island, and stood between your legs. “Why do you stay with him?”

“I…” You stuttered out, not knowing how to finish. What Jung Kook alluded to, was the thought that had previously walked through your mind.

Sometimes, love isn’t enough to stay. You adored Jimin, and you had no doubt in your mind that he adored you. But how can you stay and watch someone you love spiral? You knew why, but admitting it was new.

“I’m scared.” You confessed in a small voice. “I’m scared that if I leave, it’ll hurt me, and it’ll hurt him more, and… I’m scared that he’ll get worse.”

Jung Kook frowned, not at all liking your answer. He held your face in his hands, and set his eyes on yours.

“I know you love each other.” Jung Kook said. “I understand. But he hurts you, repeatedly, and you don’t deserve it. Y/N, he drinks, he throws things at you, he yells at you, he trashes your things. He scares you. You’re worried all the time. I know he’s not doing well, but I don’t like what he does to you. You shouldn’t have to be sad because you’re in love with someone, baby.”

Baby. The word slipped so easily off his tongue. It’s something Jimin called you sometimes, but it sounded different when Jung Kook said it. It sounded different in his voice, soft and gentle, like the way he held you, and looked you, and kissed you. Soft and gentle, like his chocolate brown eyes, and his presence, and the petals of the flowers he brought you, still bloomed by your bed.

Breaking the moment, your cellphone began to ring. Jung Kook struggled to take his eyes off you, but he prayed internally that Jimin’s name was not on your screen. You pursed your lips and mumbled an “I’m sorry” before untangling yourself from him, and walking over to your phone.

“Hi, Mr. Kim.” Your sweet voice greeted. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.” Namjoon said on the other line. Jung Kook couldn’t hear his voice, but watched and listened from the kitchen. “Is Mr. Park with you?”

“No, he isn’t?” Your voice sounded confused. Jung Kook furrowed his brows. “He should still be in treatment.”

“He’s not.” Namjoon responded quickly, his voice panicked. “I tried to reach his room earlier, and the staff said he had checked himself out for the evening. I thought he must with you.”

“No, he isn’t here. I don’t know where Jimin could be.” You said. Jung Kook walked over to you, and motioned for you to pass him the phone.

“Namjoon? It’s Jung Kook. What’s going on?” Jung Kook watched as you worriedly paced around back and forth, thinking back to what he had just said about Jimin’s behavior and how they affect you.

“My client is missing.” Namjoon explained. “He checked himself out for the evening, apparently with someone waiting for him. I assumed it was Ms. Y/L/N.”

“No, she’s here alone with me.” Jung Kook said, scratching the back of his neck. “Wait! My client, Kim Taehyung, they knew each other. Do you think he called Taehyung?”

“Possibly.” Namjoon said, a tint of hope in his voice. “Hold on for a second, let me call him and I’ll get back to Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Ok.” Jung Kook nodded, before hanging up the phone. “Hey, Y/N, come here.”

Jung Kook walked over to you, pulled you in close, and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“We’ll find him, baby. I promise, I’ll fix it.” Jung Kook whispered, rubbing your back. “No more tears, ok? I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

A few moments later, Namjoon called again, and Jung Kook picked up the phone.

“Hey.” He greeted, quick to get to the point.

“He’s out with Taehyung.” Namjoon said, his voice audibly angry. “They’re at a bar. Some place called Barcelona, on 55th street. I’ll get him.”

“No, Y/N and I will.” Jung Kook said.

“He’s my client.”

“He’s her fiancé.” Jung Kook responded quickly. “Let us handle this.”

“Fine.” Namjoon said through gritted teeth. “His ass better be back in the treatment center by morning, or I’m finished with him.”

“Me too.” Jung Kook grumbled, clearly agitated by Jimin’s behavior as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, visibly showing your stress and worry. Jung Kook would do anything to take that away from you, and he was growing angry with the man who refused to give you peace.

Jung Kook hung up the phone after mumbling a quick bye, and you looked over at him, waiting for an update.

“We know where he is.” He said, trying to keep his voice calm for you. “We’ll go get him together, ok?”

“He’s drinking, isn’t he?” You said quietly, silently bracing for the answer.

Jung Kook’s silence was very loud in the room, as though it could echo off the walls. Right back on the cycle you went, preparing to make yet another loop with Jimin. But this time, you weren’t alone; Jung Kook was ready to catch you when you became dizzy, refusing to let you fall. For the first time, you felt steadier on this ride.

For the first time, you felt like getting off the ride altogether.

Jung Kook walked with you out of the apartment, afraid to say anything. He didn’t know what he could say, that hasn’t already been said. He told you how he feels, how he’s always felt. He’s kissed you again, and again, and again. He’s all but told you that he believes you should leave your fiancé, and he’s held you while you cried over him. Jung Kook didn’t feel that it was his place to say what he was thinking; “Be with me. Leave him, and let me make everything ok again.”

As you walked in silent, the rain never halted. It continued, pouring down, and masked any tears that poured down your cheeks. You saw the fluorescent blue lights at the corner of the street in the shape of a whiskey glass, and you knew in your gut that you had found him. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to face him again.

You peeked into the dark, small bar, and saw him. He looked as messy as he usually did when drinking, with his dyed blonde hair tousled, and his eyelids heavy, barely holding them open. Taehyung sat next to him and continued to talk, not paying attention to the condition of his friend. He conversed with a barely-awake Jimin and the polite bartender, who nodded along to whatever the clearly drunk Taehyung told him.

Jung Kook was the first to walk in to the bar while you stood at the window a moment longer. Jimin’s eyes were glazed over in a drunken daze, but he immediately perked up when he noticed Jung Kook and then you, waiting outside. Jimin’s eyes widened and he stood quickly off the bar stool, stumbling as he did so before finding his balance. He chose to ignore Jung Kook completely, pushing past him aggressively to exit the small bar and go onto the rainy sidewalk, where you waited.

“Y/N.” He greeted angrily, his movements uncoordinated as he approached you. “Why did you bring him here?”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by the first thing he chose to say to you. “Jimin, we came to get you. You left your treatment center.”

“It’s only for a night.” Jimin rolled his irate eyes. He reached out to hold the wall to steady himself. “Why did you bring him with you? Are you trying to be selfish?”

Jung Kook, who had been standing at the door, heard the tone in Jimin’s voice and didn’t like it. As if on instinct, he walked over in front of you and gently placed a hand on your waist, to make sure you stood behind him, creating a barrier between you and Jimin. You looked up at his face, but Jung Kook was looking straight ahead, glaring at Jimin. Jimin, in return, laughed sarcastically.

“Un-fucking-believable.” His intoxicated voice slurred. “So you are fucking him. I knew it. I kn-knew you’d leave me. Embarrass me. What are we going to tell my father, Y/N?”

“Embarrass you?” Jung Kook gritted his teeth. He had finally snapped, and his patience with Jimin had worn thin. “She has done nothing but put up with your bullshit since you got here, and stood by you through all of it. You’ve hurt her over and over again, and what you’re worried about right now is being embarrassed in front of your father?”

Taehyung walked out of the bar, clueless to the situation. Jimin was irate, and between Jung Kook’s tone and his hand on your waist, he began to see red. He swung at Jung Kook, who was quick to push you away from the action, taking a hit in the process. Seeing that you were almost hit, Jung Kook became furious.

“No no no no!” You started yelling, watching Jimin try to hit Jung Kook again. “Guys, stop it!”

Jung Kook, being much larger than Jimin, was able to push him back easily against the brick wall, especially in Jimin’s drunken state. He didn’t want to fight Jimin and scare you anymore than you were already, but when Jimin came back and tried to hit him again, that was the breaking point.

“Hey!” Taehyung shouted, attempting to grab Jimin to pull him away. “That’s enough! THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Finally, Jimin was pulled away, and you ran over to Jung Kook. He immediately pulled you into him, you both soaked from the rain. His lip was busted from one of Jimin’s hits, but other than minor cuts, he was ok.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently, feeling you shiver. “I’m taking you home, away from this. Let’s go.”

“NO.” Jimin yelled, with Taehyung trying to calm him down.

“I’m taking her home.” Jung Kook repeated a bit louder and more assertive, finished with the situation. “I’m not letting her stand in the rain anymore to deal with you all night. You’re going back to your treatment center. If you’re not there by morning, Namjoon said he’s done with you.”

“Jimin, please.” You begged. “I need you to get help. I can’t… I don’t know what else to do… Please.”

The tone of your voice broke Jung Kook’s heart. You were so tired of trying, so tired of begging and pleading, so tired of negotiating. You looked at the man you loved, standing drunk in the rain, and you felt your energy slipping away. You were so exhausted, and you felt as though you hit your own breaking point. What else was there to do?

“Come on.” Jung Kook said, holding your hand to walk with you down the street.

——————————————————————————————————

As soon as you both arrived back at his apartment, you each took a hot shower to wash off the cold of the rain. Your shower ended after Jung Kook’s, and you knocked on his opened bedroom door, and heard his voice answer, “come in”, softly from his bathroom.

You went in to find him shirtless, standing at the bathroom mirror and sink, only wearing pajama pants. You could spot the few bruises Jimin was able to leave on his body, and the cut still on his lips. Your lips turned into a frown, and you walked over to sit on the bathroom counter.

“Here.” You said, grabbing the medicine from the counter. “Let me do it.”

“Y/N.” Jung Kook smiled, his boyish glow coming back to him after a difficult night. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” You responded, squeezing a bit out onto your finger. He walked a bit closer to you, and looked down at your face while you dabbed the medicine onto the cut on his lip.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sorry I did that. I’m never angry like that, and I never fight, I don’t know… He could’ve hit you, he almost hit you, and I just…”

“It’s ok.” You responded. “I promise, I understand.”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m that kind of person.”

“I know you’re not.” You assured him, putting your hand in his. “Thank you, for moving me out of the way.”

“Of course.” Jung Kook said. He squeezed your hand back. “You were scared, weren’t you?”

“Not of you.” You said. “And not of Jimin. I’m scared for him.”

“I know.” He nods. The room was still, and the rain could be heard pouring outside. Jung Kook stood so close to you. “Y/N… I need to just… I need to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“You know now, how I feel about you.” Jung Kook said, his hands now holding both of yours as he stood in between your legs. “You know how I’ve always felt about you.”

“Jung Kook…”

“I can’t promise you all of the same things he can. I know that.” Jung Kook continued. “But I can promise that I’ll make you happy. Love shouldn’t be like this, Y/N. Please… just think about it.”

“O-Ok.” You stuttered. “I will.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #the law of attraction #lawyer!jungkook #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin fanfic #jimin fic

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tizeline · 8 months ago

Note

I'm guessing that after season finale, Leo sneaking out to see Donnie is in secret. Is there a moment where Leo's other brothers find out? Do they feel betrayed, or do they assume it's part of Leo's master plan to have Donnie switch over?

Is there moments Leo stays the night at the lair cuz of tensions at home, or just because he wants to hang out with Donnie more?

Love your AU!!

Okay so here's the thing. Before the season one finale, Leo would always worry so much about living up to expectations, about what his family would think of him. This led to him keeping many secrets, his interest in Lou Jitsu plus human media and pop-culture in general, his frequenting NYC and Run Of The Mill, all of that he would spend years keeping closely hidden from his father and brothers. Then later he'd also have to hide his tense but slowly improving relationship with Donnie and his doubts about Draxum's world domination plan. When the season one finale happens and Leo teams up with Donnie, the cover is blown and essentially all of those closely guarded secrets are exposed.

So after that, Leo is done with secrets, he's tired of putting on an act all the time. His family already knows that he's befriended Donnie at this point, and not in the way they wanted. They know that he interacts with human society, and so what? Instead of hiding this part of himself, Leo does the opposite and brags about it, shoving in their face. Basically any time Leo leaves to go hang out with Donnie he will let everyone know and then teleport away in front of their faces lol. (Jokes on Leo, he is still very much putting on an act, this time it's just an act of indifference. He is very much bothered by the tension between him and his family, especially between him and his dad, but he doesn't want to admit to anyone else or himself that that's the case)

But Leo does absolutely sometimes stay overnight at Donnie's place, both as an act of rebellion but also because Draxum's displeasure with Leo really gets to him and he just doesn't wanna deal with that sometimes.

Both Draxum and Mikey are, uh, a bit salty over the whole Dark Armor fiasco, including Leo's kinda-sorta-not-really-but-also-technically-betrayal. So they have a pretty pissy attitude during this part of the story XD and Leo running yelling about HOW MUCH FUN he's having with HIS TWIN BROTHER and also how Leo was TOTALLY RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING just makes them more annoyed (and they're not even twins??? where did leo get that idea from, what is he on about???).

Meanwhile, Raph does agree with Leo when it comes the fact that destroying humanity is not a very cool thing to do, but he still doesn't exactly vibe with humans. Needless to say, he's a bit conflicted about everything which causes him to usually get caught in the middle of Leo's and Draxum + Mikey's beef where he's stuck trying to play mediator. He's not super happy with Leo running off on his own all the time to hang out with Donnie considering it means interacting with April and Splinter, which he still doesn't trust. It's not until Raph starts tagging along (partly to make sure Splinter isn't gonna kidnap Leo too haha) that he starts agreeing more with Leo's stance on things and realizes that April and Splinter are pretty cool actually.

#Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt

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buckysdollbarnes · 3 months ago

Text

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader series #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes slow burn

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