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blackhairedjjun · 29 days

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flying home to you - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, non-idol au, friends to lovers | word count: 889 | warnings: profanity (just one "shit")

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - CHOOSE: sender, realizing the receiver is about to make a huge life-changing decision (literally anything, accepting a job offer, accepting a marriage proposal, leaving the country, ANYTHING!) tells the receiver that they’re in love with them, leaving them to choose between the sender and their original path. (requested by @forevrglow - “Can you do the [CHOOSE] prompt with Yeonjun and make it kinda like the ending of Friends? Y/N got an amazing job offer in another country and just as she's about to get on the plane, yeonjun arrives to tell her he loves her and then she gets off the plane”)

author's notes: hi bri, thank you so much for the request! i had to watch clips of the friends ending on youtube for this, i couldn't make it exactly like it just because airport security has changed so much since the show aired 😭 but i tried to keep the gist of your request, i hope you enjoy!

(also to anyone else reading this, please do not take this fic as career or relationship advice!! lmao)

neither the rumbling sound of your luggage wheels nor the roars of the airplanes overhead could drown out your nervous heartbeat. you approached the entrance of the airport terminal, bags in tow, and your nerves seemed to quake more and more with each step. as you found yourself in front of the glass sliding doors, you paused, inhaled deeply, and checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

the electronic copy of your plane ticket was there, as were the email exchanges from your new employer. paris was at your fingertips and in a few hours it would be right in front of you, surrounding you, and even beneath your feet.

yet you still found yourself switching over to your text app and checking your messages with yeonjun. it had been a few hours since you sent a cordial “i’ll text you when the plane lands!” to him, and there was still no reply; he was typically the kind of person who replies as soon as he can, usually late at night before he goes to bed. he had read your text, but not responded.

this fact rattled your nerves more than the plane ticket, the email exchanges, or the flight. sighing, you pocketed your phone again and pushed thoughts of yeonjun out of your mind. maybe it got buried in his inbox...

you gripped the handle of your luggage again to wheel it over to the entrance, but your steps felt slower than ever. other passengers had to walk around you to enter the terminal. why were you so damn nervous? you knew that a new job in a new country was scary, but more than ever you felt rooted to the ground. at the back of your mind were images of your home, of downing beers with yeonjun in your kitchen, of his downcast expression when you told him about moving to paris...

“y/n! wait!”

you whipped around at the sound of a voice that made your heart beat faster. yeonjun stood in front of you as if conjured by your thoughts, out of breath, jacket hastily thrown on and hair tousled.

“yeonjun, what are you...?”

“y/n, please,” he panted, “hear me out before you go...”

you were both in the way, and passengers shot glares at you as they headed to the terminal entrance. you moved aside, and yeonjun took the opportunity to move closer to you and take both your hands in his.

“i have to be at the gate by一”

“i love you.”

you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

yeonjun’s grip on your hands grew firm. “i’m sorry i never told you earlier,” he continued, voice cracking, “but i... i didn’t want to stop your dreams. i’m sure you’ll do amazing. but now that you’re leaving, and it’s real, and i don’t know when一 shit, i love you, y/n... i love you.”

you were trembling and yeonjun could feel it in your hands. he, too, was shaking, and it took every ounce of effort for him to keep steady.

your mind swam in a haze of thoughts, feelings, images. you remembered the way yeonjun held you when your ex broke your heart, the way his hands nearly brushed yours when he walked you home. you thought of home, of that tiny apartment where you’d stayed up with him talking about your dreams.

then you thought of paris. you thought of your dream job in your dream city. you imagined your new apartment overlooking the seine, and of the picturesque walkways lined with charming houses and old-fashioned streetlamps. your mind instantly created an image of you walking along them towards your new home, surrounded by fashionable locals in elegant coats... but you walked all alone.

where is your home? what is your dream?

then it all snapped together in high clarity.

you had been silent for a while, the thoughts too overwhelming for you to respond. yeonjun was still standing in front of you, and at your silence he dropped your hands. tears formed at the corners of his eyes and you swore you felt your heart break.

“sorry, i... i shouldn’t have said that. you should go...”

he turned to head back to his car. at first you couldn’t process it, and he moved slowly as if in a dream. then your senses caught up with you and you realized 一 yeonjun was walking away. your home, your dream was walking away.

“yeonjun!”

you ran towards him, nearly bumping into several passengers heading to the terminal. he caught you in his arms and his lips met yours; you melted into his embrace, kissing him back. he felt warm and his lips were soft, and you felt the warmth spread to your chest and set your whole body alight.

when you broke apart, you could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears. your eyes met yeonjun’s, shining with adoration, and the thoughts and emotions swirling around you finally came to a still.

“i love you too, jjun,” you whispered. “i can’t leave you.”

he pulled you in for a hug and you breathed him in, your face resting against his chest. his heartbeat fell in sync with yours.

“y/n, stay...”

you gripped him even more tightly and nodded. there was no way you could leave your home.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #yeonjun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun fanfic #bhj originals #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤

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daddy-suguru · 1 year

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- ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɪʀ;

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏 | breeding w/ detective!Satoru Gojo

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs | established relationship (married), breeding/talk of pregnancy, calling each other various nicknames of baby daddy/baby mama/princess, teasing/pleading/begging, cockwarming, lingerie, food play - chocolate hearts, pussy eating, breeding, hints at round two, clit rubbing during cool-down period, squirting, praise

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ | 2.3k

There is a sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla coming from the wax warmer. While there is slow music difts from the speaker sitting on top the dresser. Where there are sprinkles of red, white, and pink rose petals.

Roses which are scattered about the rest of the room. Which is alight in a golden glow, from the clusters of pink heart-shaped candles. While, the dimmed overhead light is bright enough for you to see

Over the years Satoru's romantic gestures haven't faded. Causing you to fall in love with your best friend, partner and husband more every day.

Satoru stands at the edge of your bed. With his cock dipping slightly underneath the weight of the chocolate heart-shaped candy resting on top of his head. The rest of the candies are in the box Satoru is holding, along with a beautiful necklace.

The words, I love you on one side of the heart. Your eyes widen as you recognize the necklace. As the one on display in that cute shop in Paris. Which you visited while vacationing with Satoru a month ago. After Satoru decided a vacation was needed after the stressful solved case.

Satoru suggests, “How's a gift and some sweets from your sugar bear?” Shifting closer to the edge of the rose-petal-covered bed. To softly grab his cock, holding it still as you drag your tongue along the bottom of his cock.

The way his breathy hitches before he groans as your pussy tingling. Softly crooning to him, "You're so handsome, romantic, and sweet, Toru, I love you too." His cheeks flush from the praise.

Thick pre-cum pearls on his tip before sliding down. You admit, "I love waking up next to you every morning, going to work with you. I need your warm hugs, and I can't get over how you smile and laugh into some of our kisses." The pink hue of his cheeks turns red.

Spreading your legs wider for Satoru to step in between. As you glide your tongue over his cock head's small slit, groaning from the sweetness of his pre-cum. Because Satoru eats fruits to make sure he tastes good for you. Since he loves the way you

Satoru's voice is breathy with a raspy undertone as he expresses, "I want to make you my baby mama so badly. I keep thinking about your breasts swelling with your belly. I want to come home to you with our baby." The thought had been crossing your mind.

Satoru would make a wonderful dad, and you want to make him a dilf. Trailing kisses down his v line, to his short patch of white hair. Biting down softly, a tremor runs through Satoru's body.

Stopping to warn him, "Keep still, so you don't ruin my chocolate." Looking into his sparkling baby blue eyes, purring in between kisses. "I want to make you a daddy Toru." Sinking in your teeth in deeper as he struggles to keep still.

He gasps, "Fuck!" Before adding, "I want to be your baby daddy, make your belly swell and your tits drip with milk. I've been thinking of sucking on your soft tits while you jerk me off. I love how soft your hand feels around my cock." Satoru has always been touch sensitive.

Writhing and trembling, with his toes curling, making the chocolate wobble again. Before he grabs your hair and stills himself. The lines of his abs deepen as he tenses up, fighting the urge to move.

Rubbing your clit through your lacy panties. Causing Satoru to wonder, "Am I turning you on sweet mama, you need your pretty pussy rubbed?" Pushing your panties to the side, slipping one finger past into your wet heat.

Deciding easily, "I want your pretty face between my face, please Daddy Toru take care of your pussy." Holding your slick coated finger up for Satoru while the chocolate off the tip of Satoru's cock. Softly moaning at its sweetness as Satoru leans down, slipping his cock out of your grasp.

He leans down kissing you softly, the tip of his nose brushes your's. While he runs his tongue along your bottom lip and out of habit you part your lips. He quickly slips his tongue into your mouth. While you gasp from shock, as he steals from of the chocolate from your mouth.

Wrapping his lips around your finger after swallowing his half of the chocolate. He proclaims, "Tastes so good mixing with your sweet pussy. I want to rub the chocolates between your lips and eat both." Crouching down while setting the box of chocolate down next to you on the bed.

Grabbing the necklace out from the center. As he adds, "This would look prettier if your beautiful self is wearing it." Slipping both his hands around your neck, connecting the small clasp. Letting the heart rest softly on your chest.

Pushing softly on your shoulder, encouraging you, "Lay down for me to eat your pretty pussy out swet mama." Laying back, with your legs dangling off the bed. As Satoru slips your panties down your legs. Which he places over his shoulders, trailing sloppy wet kisses along the inside of one thigh.

Halfway along Satoru switches to your other thigh, biting down softly. As you reflexiving jerk, twisting your hips down onto the bed. While reaching down and grabbing a hanful of his soft hair.

Expressing with a groan, "Such a pretty princess pussy. Hmm I want to fill her full of cum and play with her clit till she twitching from overstimulation." Some of the chocolate smears between your lips.

Licking the remnants of chocolate before popping the candy in his mouth. Loudly groaning, as he spreads your lips apart. Looking inside to watch you clench around nothing. Before he slips one finger, knuckle deep past your lips.

Curling his finger, massaging the soft spot, Satoru says, "It's good I bought another box, which has the matching earrings and bracelet. You can wear it on our dinner date tomorrow night." Satoru likes to pick your outfits occasionally.

Dressing you always to your taste in flattering clothes for him to rip off later. His outfit is always coordinated regardless if he picks it. And he has to get pictures of both of you together.

You've grown to treasure his love of memory capturing. Since there are countless photos marking various moments between both of you that you adore looking back on.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, pushing another finger inside of you. Spreading his large fingers apart inside of you occasionally. Working on loosening your pussy to comfortably take all of him.

Slowly pumping his fingers, keeping them in pace with the circling of his tongue on your clit. While he groans, ensuring the vibrations make your clit tingle. As rubs your sweet spot, building the tension in your body.

Dragging your nails through Satoru's fluffy hair. Whimpering, "You're tongue and fingers feel soooonnngggfuck. Toru, daddy, toru please!" He speeds up the pace of his fingers, while adding more pressure onto your clit. While you grind and rock your hips.

Your pussy flutters, squeezing his fingers. He pulls away from your clit, while swishing his fingers, crooning, "Are you going to make me a daddy and let me fill your pretty princess pussy up?." Every stroke of his long, thick fingers along your squishy pussy drove you closer to that glorious peak.

Pleading, "Let me make you a handsome daddy please Toru. I want to fill your warm cum spilling deep inside me. Please Toru!"

Satoru expresses in awe, "You look so beautiful when you're about to cum." Sucking your clit, flicking it with his warm flat tongue. The tension in your gut snaps, as warm thick cream gushes onto his fingers.

Switching his fingers for his tongue instead. Lapping up your cum with a loud groan while rubbing your clit. Letting go of his hair and grabbing fist fulls of the blanket and rose petals.

Quickly grabbing your hip, pulling you back down crooning, "Then why are run away from me when I'm trying to make you my mama. Is daddy being too much for you?" His voice drops,

"That's so fucking hot. You think you're ruined now, mmm." He chuckles, "I didn't think I would have such a breeding kink but the thought of filling you up is making me feral." Slipping his tongue inside you, pumping it quickly.

His tongue is long enough to I love you so much, I want to make you my baby mama. Every day I see your pretty princess pussy I think about how beautiful she looks dripping my cum. I want to stuff my cum back inside with every drop that drips." Kissing the inside of your thighs.

Satoru adores talking about your pussy to you. You couldn't get enough of how he treats your pussy, talking about that part of you like a person. It always sends sweet, tingles throughout your pussy. While making your mind go blank, as you focus purely on the sensations.

Satoru asks, "Can you open up chocolate for me, I need another one soaked in your sweet pussy juices." Grabbing one out of the box, pausing halfway through unwrapping it. As intense, toe-curling pleasure consumes you.

Your pussy spams around his tongue which he pushes past your lips with a groan. As he rubs your sensitive clit faster. And for a moment you forget what you have in your hands.

Grinding your hips on his face, babbling, "Wanna be your pretty baby mama, please your such a handsome daddy Toru, I need you to cum in me. Make my belly swell with your cock, cum, and babies." Greediness for that mind-numb, consuming pleasure overriding the overstimulation that had you pulling away before. As Satoru slips his tongue out, you whine in protest while he reminds you,

"The chocolate my love?" Unwrapping it the rest of the way and holding it down to Satoru. Who lets go of your hip, taking the sweet from you and nudging it between your wet lips. As he keeps his strokes consistent on your clit.

Satoru gaze slips over your lingerie-covered body. The soft flowing skirt bunched up around your hips. While the upper lace shows up glimpses of your pretty nipples. As it hugs your waist and stomach, giving him the perfect outline of your beautiful body.

Smiling lovingly while admiring you, Satoru tells you, "Cum on the candy for me make it even sweeter." Clear cum trickles from your pussy. Before coming out in thicker spurts. As your pussy spasms around nothing. As Satoru slips the chocolate into his mouth.

Chewing it while watching the last spurts of your cum. As he rubs your clit slower, while you tremble. As you squeeze your thighs together the best you can with them being over Satoru's shoulders. Until he pulls his hand away, slipping your legs off his shoulders.

Ripping the lingerie off of you with ease, he lets you take a moment to bask in the afterglow of cumming twice. Standing up and dropping the scraps on the ground, while murmuring,

"Good girl squirting for me." Wrapping his hand around the hard cock, smearing your slick along his length. While some of his pre-cum drips onto the floor. He croons,

"She's going to be so sensitive, how do you want me to fuck her? Soft, slow and sweet, taking my time savoring how she flutters around me." Unable to wait any longer, Satoru nudges his cock head past your lips.

Pinning your thighs by your side as you drag your nails down his chest with each inch Satoru gives you. Till his navel is rubbing your clit, and his cockhead is rubbing your cervix.

Satoru groans, "Squeezing me trying to milk my cock of all my cum." The pink scratching on his pale chest makes you grin. As Satoru remarks,

"You like marking your baby daddy up, how about you leave some hickeys on my neck." Curling his back, hunching his tall self over your short body. While tilting his head to the side for you to sink your teeth into.

His hips shutter with jerky short thrusts as you suck on the sweet spot of his neck. Groaning as you clench Satoru while he digs his nails into your thighs while grunting, "You feel too damn good, so wet and hot, drowning my cock, soaking my balls. While moaning like that in my ear, princess you're going to make me cum too quickly."

Whimpering, "Go ahead fill your pussy up, please sugar daddy let me feel your thick warm cum deep in my guts. Please cum! Nngg please let me cum again, your cock feels so nngg! Please cum, wanna cum, please cummm, wannnng!" You're momentarily stuck moaning the same thing over. Till your moans become unintelligible while Satoru's thick hot cum spills inside of you.

Satoru pulls himself up, straightening his back out, looming over you. While your hands stay looped around his neck. And you are grateful for the sight of Satoru's face above you as he cums inside your pussy.

He's so beautiful with strands of snow-white hair falling into ocean-blue eyes. While his flush pink cheeks match the color of his plush lips. His eyes roll back. He whines, "Yourhotpussynneedmore." His words slur together as he keeps pumping his hips.

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avenging-fandoms · 4 months

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Airplane - Harry Styles

In which Harry and Yn have been divorced for a while, but they both booked a trip to Paris at the same time and are sat directly next to each other.

idk if i love or hate this. i wrote this on goodnotes w a prompt i got from google in non fanfic form turn fanfic form. so enjoy or hate it idk

**fem pronouns

Yn sighed contently as she sat in the First Class seat, a pod directly next to her on the left. She took in her surroundings a bit before bending down to grab her phone, iPad, and anything else she needs as the long plane ride begins, not realizing the person sitting next to her was entering the pod.

Harry just saw the back of her head as he put his bag on the floor, running his fingers through his hair and putting his other bag in the overhead bin. Yn sat up and Harry’s eyes widen with his stomach swarming with butterflies and his mouth went dry. Yn slides her headphones over her head, doing a double take and dropping the headphones around her neck as she looks up at her ex husband.

“Oh my God, Harry, hi.” Yn smiles, standing up and the two hug over the barrier. “You’re heading to Paris?”

“Uh.. yeah. Just.. need to clear my head.” He nods. Yn can’t help but scan her eyes over him. It had been 2 years since the divorce and nearly 18 months since they’ve last seen each other, so they both took their time checking one another out subtly.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your head clearing. Enjoy your trip, H.” Yn smiles and sits in her seat putting her headphones on. Harry sat in his seat and smiles, grabbing all the things he needed for the beginning of the plane ride. Once in the air and it was allowed, Harry opened his laptop to work on some music.

Yn got up to put her sweater on and couldn’t help but peek over at Harry who worked intently on his laptop. Yn sat down and bit her lip, pulling down the divider and Harry pulled a headphone off his ear.

“I’m sorry to bother you, and I have no business as your ex-wife to ask, but can I please listen to what you’re working on?” Yn bit her lip softly and Harry smiles, sliding his headphones off and hand them to her.

“Of course, Peach. You have all the business asking, you’re my number one fan.” Harry winks and she blushes, sliding his headphones on. “I’ll pick something for you.” He took a minute scrolling before taking a deep breath and hitting play. Music filled the headphones and Yn sits back with a smile, but her smile doesn’t last for long as she list. He’s singing about being the love of his life and not knowing what is lost until you find it. Tears streamed and the song stopped.

“Really good.” Yn compliments as she wipes her cheeks and Harry shifts in his seat.

“It’s.. not finished. “I have others to play.” Yn nods with a sniffle.

Harry loved watching her reaction to the songs, especially since most were about her.

“These are beautiful, Harry. You have such an amazing talent.” Yn boasts and it was Harry’s turn to blush.

“You’re my muse so it just naturally flows out of me.” Harry looks at his laptop and the two fell silent. Yn looks at the plane screen and saw they have 10 hours. “Why did we divorce?” Harry asked.

“Well.. I wanted to start a family,” Yn looks at Harry then back at the time they have left. “And you wanted to focus on your career.” Harry’s lips fell into a thin line. “We talked about having kids. We were gonna have 2, maybe 3. Buy a big house, one with a pool and a big backyard for them to play together. I had so many ideas.” Yn smiles to herself, her eyes going blurry from tears once again. She looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers in and out slowly.

“Yn..” Harry starts but she cuts him off.

“No, really, I’m okay. I’ve had a while to get over you. Maybe I’m not there but I’m getting damn near close. Besides, I don’t blame you for choosing your career, look what’s happened. I’m so happy I didn’t hold you back from it.” Yn put the divider back up and headed to the bathroom, taking a few deep breaths.

Harry sat in his seat, staring at the light blue divider. A few people looked over and he just clenched his jaw. He knew he was wrong, he know he broke the marriage. It was his fault.

Yn looks at herself and takes a deep breath before doing her skincare and brushing her teeth. When she left the bathroom the cabin lights were dimmed, meaning people were heading to bed. Yn quietly heads back to her pod and accidentally made eye contact with Harry who quickly looked back at his computer before she sat down.

Yn opens her phone and sees 20 text messages from Harry. His demos. She smiles widely and hearted every single one. Yn brought the divider down once more, Harry already looking at her.

“Thank you Harry.” She grins and he nods.

“Go on a date with me.” Harry blurts and it catches Yn off guard.

“Harry, what? We-”

“What? We’re both going to Paris, it’s perfect. We can see the Eiffel Tower after dinner or get lunch then go to an art museum.” Yn blinks a few times and looks at Harry. “Go on a date with me, Yn.” Yn tries to bite back a smile.

“Yes, Harry. Yes, I will go on a date with you. In Paris.” She giggles and he slaps a hand over his heart.

“Beautiful. Don’t worry about anything, I will take care of everything.” Yn nods with a chuckle. “Sweet dreams, Peach.”

“Goodnight H.” Yn slowly put up the divider and put on her headphones, playing Harry’s demos as she slept while Harry got to planning.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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flightfoot · 7 months

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Miraculous Enemies AU fanfic recs

So I was just thinking about one of my favorite Miraculous tropes, enemies au. Whether it's Marinette getting the wrong idea about Adrien from the beginning of school, or Chat being cajoled into working for his father, I adore most fics with these tropes, and I'm betting that a lot of other people do as well, so here's a list of some good ones for people to peruse!

Note: I am only listing fics that are currently completed, so you don't have to fear any of these being abandoned. They are in no particular order (or rather, they're in the order in which I was able to track them down in for this list).

cruel youth by @anyxnka

Two teenagers are chosen to wield miraculouses. Only one becomes a superhero. Weeks later, Ladybug’s lucky charm won’t stop spitting out cats.

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i have found someone (like a nomad finds a home) by @hanaasbananas

After Stoneheart, Gabriel figured out who Chat Noir was, and forced him to work for him, rather than with Ladybug. Years later, Adrien is miserable until one night, he meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

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Unstuck by @ominousunflower

Chat Noir, notorious supervillain of Paris, experiences a wardrobe malfunction in the best and worst possible place: Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony. Heart pounding, Chat pins Marinette’s wrists to the balcony. She stares up at him, her blue eyes kaleidoscopic from the lights hanging overhead, her features twisted into a scowl. “Why are you trying to take my Miraculous?” Chat hisses. “Because—you—I—” Marinette splutters, her eyes dipping down below Chat’s face. “Why is your suit unzipped?” “I—well…” Chat sighs. “My zipper got stuck.”

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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every Miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace. Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most. Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

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with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

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Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

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home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

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The Great War by icebelle24

'And maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from a crypt Telling me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it' The unthinkable happens, and suddenly, Chat Noir’s allegiances change. Now Ladybug stands on the opposite side of the battlefield from the boy who was once her partner, left alone to make sense of an impossible situation. At least she still has Adrien to give her hope. Or maybe this war is not entirely what it seems.

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Miss Dial by @mysticraven20

Adrien Agreste has always considered Marinette Dupain-Cheng entertaining. Whether it was the endless back and forth of their banter, the clumsiness he found so cute or the fact her anger levels could go from 1-100 in a mere millisecond; he always found there was something about her... if only he could get to know her better. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has always considered Adrien Agreste a pompous, arrogant asshole. From his constant teasing of her, to the obnoxious laugh at her discomfort and the way he could anger her quicker than any other human being; she knew she hated Adrien Agreste with all she was worth. But what happens when Adrien accidentally sends the wrong text to the wrong person and a new friendship blossoms - a friendship deeper than either have ever known? Will Marinette choose to stay faithful to the budding relationship with the boy on the other side of the phone? Or will a new job with an old foe fill the loneliness in her heart?

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call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

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oh, look, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can't escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn't mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn't... who will?

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Redemption by JamieHasCatEyes

Papillon has been defeated and imprisoned, but his accomplice, Chat Noir, was given a second chance. Marinette's time as Ladybug may be over, but she still has work to do if she wants to help Adrien reintegrate back into society.

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The Son Of My Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

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metamorphosis by @peachcitt

“I was thinking about that time you hated me.” “Why?” "I don’t know." “I didn’t.” “I know.” or three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

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Stealing Freedom by @rosie-b

Adrien Agreste was a good person. Marinette knew this to be true, of course; she wouldn’t be marrying him if he were some irredeemable villain. No, her fiancé was practically the opposite of evil. He cooed over babies and kittens, literally stopped to smell the roses, and always brought large bouquets of them to dates. He had trouble killing spiders and bugs, begging his partner to take on the task whenever she was around to save him. Adrien was the sweetest person Marinette knew, the most kindhearted, the most forgiving; he was almost too perfect for her sometimes. But now, Marinette knew that the same Adrien who still blushed when his fiancée kissed him was also the well-known terror of Paris, Cat Walker.

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #enemies au #ml enemies au #lovesquare #ml lovesquare

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joelsgreys · 8 months

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Talk Tonight l Part 1 (Joel Miller x OC Female Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After their flight home is canceled, two complete strangers decide to spend the entire night getting lost together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world—what could go wrong?

Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x OFC Camila Mendoza

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Only Minors DNI. NO big age gap, Joel is 35 and Reader is 29. Reader is a mixed woman of color, she is multilingual, although it is written in second person POV (I am terrible at doing third person, sorry) she does come with a name. I also do give her a physical description EXCEPT for her body type (she is shorter than Joel though). Ultimately, if you choose to read this story, you’re more than welcome to read it how you want! If you want to picture her as I write her or as your own—whatever tickles your fancy!

Chapter Warnings/Tags: preface angst (I sorry), we have our girl Sarah, Tommy is a pain in the ass but we love him, airport meet cute, Camila has a physical description, talk of her career and profession, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Well, here she is. My lil passion project. It has been kind of nice to write something with zero expectations, not going to lie. No pressure, just straight vibing with this one. This chapter is quite tame, not a whole lot of action yet, but it obviously sets the story up for the good stuff. Tbh, the next chapter is my FAVORITE of the whole series and I almost wish I could skip this part and post that one because when I tell you it is cute, it is so fucking cute lmao. But anyway. I know this series might not gain a ton of traction, but I hope that the few people who DO read this enjoy my OC and grow to love her as much as I have and that you love this story as well. Also I just want to shoutout Doni @morning-star-joy for being so lovely to me and supporting my idea and letting me scream about Camila to her. 🩷

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 26th, 2002

07:00 Hours

“I beg your pardon?”

Startled by the sound of that rich, deep voice, that heavy Southern drawl that had become so familiar to you over the last nine hours, you lifted your face from your hands and whipped around in your seat; you’d turned so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your lips parted slightly in surprise when you saw Joel Miller standing there in the aisle with his plane ticket clutched in his hand.

He looked at you, then his dark eyes flickered over to the man sitting next to you. “Sorry I don’t mean to be a bother, but would you mind swappin’ seats with me?” He asked, politely. “I’ve got a good seat up in business class. It’s all yours if you’re willin’ to switch with me.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Joel shook his head. “There ain’t no catch, sir.”

“There has to be a catch,” he said, suspiciously.

“Ain’t no catch at all. It’s all yours, no extra charge, sir,” he told him, earnestly. “It’s more comfortable; there’s plenty of legroom. There’s also free food, a better selection of movies to watch. Oh and all the complimentary drinks that you can toss back from here to Austin,” Joel added, practically shoving his ticket right under the man’s nose. He hoped it had been enough to tempt him into agreeing to switch with him. “So? What do you say? Can we swap?”

“Well, I say you had me at complimentary drinks,” he remarked with a grin. He stood up, grabbed his carry on bag from the overhead compartment and took the ticket from Joel’s hand. Eagerly, he made his way up the aisle towards the front of the plane.

Dumbfounded, you couldn’t help but stare at Joel, your eyes widening as he slid himself into the seat beside you. “Hi baby,” he greeted you, his lips, soft and warm, brushing against your temple.

“Joel?” You sniffed, quickly dabbing at your damp, swollen eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I’m confused. What in the world are you doing here? Is this even allowed?”

“It’s fine, Mila. I asked one of the flight attendants, she said it was okay so long as he agreed to it.” He put on his seatbelt and glanced over, noticing that your own seatbelt remained unfastened. Reaching over, Joel grabbed the two straps and pulled them around your hips, buckling it for you. He then gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. He felt the way you were looking at him and murmured, “Just wanna make sure you’re safe, baby. That’s all.”

“Joel,” You whispered his name thickly. “Seriously, what are you doing back here?”

Joel’s eyes met yours. “If I can get just a few more hours with you, I’m gonna take them. Camila, I will take every last second I can get with you, alright?”

“But—”

You stopped, clamping your mouth shut as a fresh batch of hot tears threatened to spill over.

“C’mere.” He cupped your cheek with his opposite hand and delicately tucked your face into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, soothing you softly, “I’m here, baby. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You clutched fistfuls of his denim jacket and clung to him desperately—it was almost as if you’d been clinging onto dear life itself.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Joel promised. “We’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna be okay.”

But that couldn’t have been father from the truth.

You and Joel weren’t going to be okay.

You knew that.

And he did too.

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 25th, 2002

21:00 Hours

“You’re still in Paris?” Sarah shrieked loudly.

Wincing, Joel pulled his Nokia away from his ear.

She had nearly blown his goddamn eardrum out.

“Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?”

He sighed heavily, tiredly rubbing at the side of his face with his opposite hand.

He should have known, expected even, that Sarah wouldn’t take the news of his current predicament all too well—she wouldn’t take it well at all.

Joel brought his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, but unfortunately this ain’t a joke, babygirl,” he replied to her after a minute, letting out another sigh. Joel glanced across the crowded airport lounge and he squinted over at the big digital sign hanging above the airline’s counter displaying all the details of his flight home to Austin, Texas. Even after about four hours, it still flashed red, signaling to everyone the flight was still very much delayed due to the harsh weather conditions on the route. Like Joel, several other passengers were growing restless. “We were supposed to take off a few hours ago, but there’s a pretty bad storm on the East Coast—”

Sarah cut him off with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, come on man! Are you fucking serious?”

“Hey now, you had best watch your language!” He chastised his teenaged daughter. “Don’t you think for one second that I ain’t gonna ground your little behind from halfway across the world, missy. I will ground you right from this airport.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I leave you alone with Uncle Tommy for one weekend—”

“Tell me you’ll be home by tomorrow night, dad.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone.

As if she already knew she would be let down.

Joel couldn’t blame her.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” he admitted. “It’s lookin’ like the flight might get even canceled.”

“But tomorrow’s your birthday!” Sarah cried. “You have to be home for your birthday.” There’s a long, silent pause on her end of the line, but just as Joel was about to ask her if she was still there, she said in a sad, devastated voice, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but Nana and Grandpa are coming into town tomorrow. We planned a big birthday dinner, even ordered a special cake and everything. You’re always working on your birthday, we haven’t had a chance to properly celebrate it together in years.”

Joel’s heart sank, the guilt creeping in. “Sarah, I’m sorry, babygirl—”

“You just can’t be stuck in Paris, dad. You can’t—”

Suddenly, he heard Tommy in the background.

“Wait a damn minute, what did you just say? He’s stuck where, now? You’ve gotta be—here, give me the phone, kiddo.” There’s another long pause and then his younger brother’s voice came on the line. “What the hell do you mean you’re stuck in Paris?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Joel replied, flatly.

“You better be fuckin’ talkin’ about Paris, Texas.”

“Christ, Tommy! Watch your fuckin’ mouth around my daughter,” he hissed, knowing damn good and well that Sarah was standing beside him, listening to him. “I’m stranded at the goddamn airport here in France. I’ve been sittin’ on my ass for hours now just waitin’ around. My flight’s delayed due to that big storm over on the East Coast,” he explained. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here since they grounded all air traffic to the States. Nothin’s flyin’ out in that direction right now.”

“Oh c’mon, that can’t be true! Somethin’s gotta be flyin’ out of that airport to the United States. Have you tried switchin’ airlines?”

Annoyed, Joel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Tommy, that ain’t how it fuckin’ works, you moron. Nothin’ is flyin’ out in that direction right now,” his voice was firm as he repeated himself. “That really so goddamn fuckin’ hard to understand?”

“Those Europeans put somethin’ in your water?”

“The hell you fuckin’ talkin’ about?”

“‘Cause your ass is crankier than usual, brother.”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure.

Even in his late twenties, Tommy refused to grow the fuck up and it often drove him to his wits end.

“Look, this long distance call is costin’ me a damn fortune, so listen and listen good, ‘cause I ain’t got a whole lot of time left,” Joel snapped. “I need you to do me a real big favor, alright?” Without waiting for a response from his brother, he continued, “It’s Sunday, so I need you to make sure that Sarah got all of her homework done this weekend. But check it for yourself—and don’t let her lie to you, Tommy. She’ll swear to you she did it, even if she didn’t. I’ll also need you to take her to school tomorrow. She can’t be late again. Her homeroom teacher already chewed me out for droppin’ her off after first bell. I need you to get her there before eight o’ clock. Do you think you can handle that for me?”

Tommy clicked his tongue. “Sorry I wasn’t listenin’ to you, what did you just say?”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “Tommy, I swear to Christ—”

He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Joel. I got it all handled, okay? Uncle Tommy to the rescue.”

“Uncle Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot,” Joel mumbled. “It ain’t a joke. Can I trust you to do this for me or do I need to call Mrs Adler and ask her for her help?”

“I’m a little offended,” Tommy scoffed out. “I think I’ve been takin’ real good care of Sarah on my own over these last few days since you’ve been gone. I mean, she’s alive and she’s breathin’ ain’t she?”

“Tommy—”

“Relax, Joel. I’ll check out her homework tonight, I promise. And I’ll get her to school tomorrow, make sure she ain’t late. You can trust me. Alright?”

“Not like I’ve got much of a choice,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Tell Sarah I love her and I’ll do my best to make it home on time for that not so surprise special birthday dinner Mama and Pop are comin’ into town for tomorrow night.”

“You got it, big brother.”

Joel ended the call and then shoved his Nokia into the pocket of his faded, black denim jacket.

He had to get back home by tomorrow night.

If he didn’t, Sarah would be absolutely crushed.

He’d spent his last three birthdays working double shifts just to help make ends meet—but ever since he finally got his construction business going with Tommy, the hours had been even more brutal now that it was just the two of them doing big jobs. He swore both to himself and to Sarah he would try to take more time off—for birthdays, holidays, soccer tournaments, dance recitals. To spend more of his time with her.

So far, he hadn’t been able to keep his word.

He felt like a jackass for it, but what could he do?

It wasn’t just about paying the bills anymore.

Sarah would be turning fourteen next year.

In a few years, he’d be putting her through college.

He needed to work to secure her future for her.

Joel sank back into his chair, taking a look around; his dark eyes scanned the lounge with disinterest.

That’s when you caught his attention.

Caught it and held onto it with a vice like grip.

Joel’s throat went dry.

Christ, you were so fucking beautiful.

Dark brown curls, soft skin the color of deep sand.

Your white sundress only accentuated the warmth of your smooth complexion, giving you a glow that was so radiant it knocked the wind from his lungs, making it hard for him to catch an even breath.

You were sitting in the row of chairs opposite his, a couple chairs down. He couldn’t be too sure, but it seemed like you were traveling alone—the chair on your left was empty and the one on your right held your tan leather satchel bag. Your nose was buried deep into a worn out, paperback book and he took notice of the way you would take the ballpoint pen that you had tucked behind your ear, using it to jot down notes on the crinkled, yellowing pages every so often. Then you would put the pen back behind your ear with a the tiniest, satisfied little grin.

Joel swallowed, his throat bobbing harshly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You must have felt his stare because you suddenly looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. You’d seemed a bit startled at first, but then flashed him a pleasant, friendly smile.

Embarrassed, Joel quickly turned away from you.

Way to go you fuckin’ idiot, he thought to himself, silently. She probably thinks you’re a damn creep.

He feigned a sudden interest in the airplane that is parked right outside the gate, the very same plane he was supposed to have boarded four hours ago.

“Êtes-vous coincé ici aussi?”

The sweet, feminine voice came from beside him.

Startled, Joel looked to see you’d moved, and now occupied the once empty seat next to him.

“Uh, sorry. I don’t speak French,” he sputtered out nervously.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” You said, making the effortless transition from French to English. “I just assumed, but I shouldn’t have.” Tossing him a soft and apologetic smile, you asked, “So then, you are an American too?” Of course, there was no reason to ask such a question when the answer was quite obvious, but you were trying to get a conversation with him going.

“Yeah.” Joel winced, mentally kicking himself over how curt he’d sounded. “I’m from Texas.”

Your hazel green eyes glimmered with amusement and you flashed him a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat or two inside his chest.

“I thought I detected a hint of a Southern drawl.”

“Oh trust me, it ain’t just a hint, darlin’.”

You threw your head back slightly, laughing. “Well, hello there cowboy,” You teased him, playfully. You were even more stunning up close and all he could do was hope that you couldn’t tell how nervous he was underneath the surface—eager to be chatting up a stunning woman like you, but still nervous.

“So what did you ask me just a minute ago?”

“I asked if you’ve been stuck here like me.”

Joel grinned, feeling a little more courageous.

“Ain’t it obvious what flight I’m waitin’ on, angel?”

“Oh very much so, cowboy.” Grinning back at him, you leaned back into your chair and made yourself comfortable. “I’m waiting on that same flight too.”

Joel chuckled. “At this rate we’d get to Austin a lot faster by swimmin’ across the Atlantic.”

“It’s too bad I don’t know how to swim. Otherwise, I’d say let’s get paddling,” You kidded, causing him to laugh again. “How long were you here in Paris?”

“Few days,” he answered. “Buddy of mine married his longtime girlfriend here. I was his best man.”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Really?”

Amused, he asked, “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“I mean, getting married in the most romantic city in the entire world? Don’t you think that’s just a bit cliché?”

Joel shrugged. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Come to think of it, can’t get more cliché than that. But I couldn’t say no to Wyatt. He’s been my best friend since we were in diapers,” he explained. “He asked me to be his best man. I couldn’t say no to him, no matter how fuckin’ cliché the whole thing was—”

He suddenly stopped, face burning.

“Sorry darlin’,” he apologized, sheepishly. “I should mind my manners. It ain’t polite to curse when I’m in the presence of a lovely lady.”

Your laugh sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Waving a hand, you assured him, “It’s totally fine. I don’t it mind at all.”

Joel smiled, angling his body towards you.

His nerves hadn’t disappeared, not completely.

But as the seconds ticked by, he felt more at ease.

Talking to you felt as natural as breathing.

Joel decided to turn the tables. “What about you? How long were you here for?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I’m actually just here on a layover.”

“From where?”

“Somalia.”

Joel frowned. “I damn near failed geography when I was in high school. You’re gonna have to help me out a little here, darlin’. Where’s Somalia?”

“East Africa.”

“Africa?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never been into traveling—he preferred to stay put in his bubble in Texas. Flying out to Paris for Wyatt and the wedding had been Joel’s first time leaving the United States. He never had a desire to go and see the world, nor the interest. But he would have been lying if he said you hadn’t piqued his interest with such an unexpected answer. “What were you doin’ down there?”

“Working. I’m a traveling physician.”

Joel’s mouth fell open slightly. “You’re a doctor?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Is that such a surprise?”

“How old are you?”

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her age,” You smacked his arm playfully. “Don’t you know that?”

He flushed. “Sorry, it’s just—you seem a bit young to be a doctor, that’s all. I wouldn’t have thought.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Well how old do you think I am, cowboy? And don’t lie to me just to stay in my good graces. I won’t be offended by your guess, I promise.”

“Twenty five?” Joel guessed, honestly. “Or twenty six?”

“You flatter me, but no. I’ll be thirty in December.”

“So tell me, doc. How long were you in Africa?”

“About a month,” You replied. “I was there with my team to visit some of the villages in Somalia to see families in need of basic healthcare. We offer them medicine and supplies, we offer vaccines. I tend to the children, mostly. I specialize in pediatrics.”

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“What?”

“That’s just really impressive,” he admitted. After a minute, he found himself asking, “Now that you’re done workin’ down there, are you goin’ back home to Austin for a while? That where you’re from?”

You shook your head, and he hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

“I’m from Laredo,” You said. “But then I moved for college. I did pre-med at The University of Texas in Austin.”

“You visitin’ your old stompin’ grounds?” he joked.

“Something like that.” You giggled. “One of my old professors, he invited me to give a lecture to some of his students who are interested in medicine and might want to pursue careers in the field—I’ll only be in Austin for a day, then it’s off to my next work assignment.”

Joel shot you another incredulous look.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“I just figured you’d have to be some old geezer to give a lecture to college students.”

“Nope. You just have to be really good at what you do,” You winked at him. “That’s all.”

Before Joel could say another word, an attendant at the airline counter picked up their radio to make an announcement over the intercom—the flight to Austin had been canceled and all passengers were required to book a new one for the following day.

There was a collective groan in the lounge.

“Well, that’s a bummer,” You let out a tiny sigh and stood up, slinging the long, thick strap of your bag over your shoulder. Turning towards him, you gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for talking to me. It was nice having some company.” Lightly touching his shoulder, you said, “Good luck in getting home tomorrow, cowboy.”

Retracting your hand, you whirled around.

Joel jumped to his feet, ready to stop you.

But it was too late.

With the hustle and bustle of everyone scrambling towards the airline ticket counter, he’d quickly lost you in the massive crowd of people.

Joel craned his neck, searching around for you.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Where’d you go?”

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Joel spotted you walking away from one of the counters with a new plane ticket in hand.

He didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Making his way through the crowd, Joel rushed to the counter and up to the same blond woman who had assisted you. “That girl who was just here, the one with the dark curly hair,” he said. “Can you tell me which flight she booked?”

The attendant gave him a strange look. “Yes she is on the first flight available to Austin,” she stated in a thick, French accent. “Seven in the morning.”

“I need to be on that flight,” Joel told her. Noticing the hint of annoyance on her face, he added in the most polite tone he could muster, “Please. And I’d like the seat next to hers, if it’s possible.”

She shot him another odd look, but typed away at her keyboard and checked the computer screen.

“My apologies, Monsieur. But the seat next to her has already been booked by another passenger.”

“What ‘bout one close to her, then?” He tried.

“I am afraid the only seats left available are at the very back of the plane or business class.”

Joel sighed. He pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans and handed her his credit card.

“Fine. I’ll just upgrade to a business class seat.”

The attendant nodded. “Of course, Monsieur.”

Once he was all set, he thanked her and started to make his way through the lounge and towards the exit. He walked outside and took a look around the terminal, his eyebrows pulling together.

He knew the chances of finding you were slim, but he took comfort in knowing that he would see you in the morning on the flight back to Austin.

Until then, he had about nine hours to kill.

“Suppose there’s worse cities to be stuck in,” Joel muttered to himself. Most places had translations, and he figured he could get by on his own alright. The hotel he’d stayed at with the wedding party, it wasn’t too far from the airport—after a drink and a bite to eat, he could book a room for the night and crash until the morning.

He started down the sidewalk, but then stopped—out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of your curls and his stomach fluttered eagerly.

You were standing in line waiting for a cab holding what appeared to be a map in your hands.

Before his mind and body could even try making a connection, he found himself walking over to you.

“Hey there,” Joel greeted as he approached you.

You looked up from your map and beamed at him.

“Hey! Did you manage to get a new flight home?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I’m on the first one out to Austin at seven o’ clock in the mornin’.”

Your smile widened. “I’m on that one too!”

“You don’t say,” Joel said in a nonchalant tone. He didn’t want to admit he already knew that. “Well, if that just ain’t a funny coincidence.” His eyes fell to the map in your hands. “What’cha got there?”

“A map to the city.”

He laughed. “Gonna go sightseein’ or what?”

“I am indeed going sightseeing, actually.”

Joel’s smile faltered. “You serious? At this time?”

“I’ve been to Paris a couple of times before. I have always wanted to see it at night, but never had the guts to do it,” You confessed. “But here I am stuck for the next nine hours, so I suppose tonight is the night I finally do it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I prefer the term adventurous.” Folding your map, you looked at him. “What about you, cowboy? You have anything planned for your night?”

Joel shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Was gonna go grab a bite to eat and then get a hotel room to crash in.”

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to ask you to join him for a late dinner and drinks—just when he had worked up the courage to go for it, you spoke.

“Did you get to see the city while you were here?”

“I didn’t see much of anythin’,” he admitted. “With the weddin’ and all, I didn’t have the time. It ain’t a big deal, though. I ain’t a big sightseein’ kinda guy to begin with, you know?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Wait a minute, I just want to make sure I have this straight—you’ve got an entire commitment free night in Paris, and you’re going to spend it cooped up in some hotel room?”

Joel shrugged. “I reckon I am.”

“No way.” You grabbed his arm and started to pull him over towards an available cab. “You’re coming with me tonight.”

“Wait just a minute, darlin’—”

Ignoring him, you continued to drag him along. “It would a crime if you didn’t see this city before you go back home,” You stated, opening the back door to the car. You tried shoving him into the backseat but he caught himself on the roof of the vehicle.

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on there a second, angel,” he said with a chortle. “You’re really just gonna spend a whole night in a foreign city with a complete and total stranger you just met half an hour ago? What if I’m some kinda serial killer?”

You blinked. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Well no I ain’t a serial killer, but my point is—”

“Then we’re fine,” You chirped. “Come on, let’s go. There’s no time to waste.”

Pushing past him, you climbed into the backseat.

“You coming?” You asked over your shoulder.

Joel chuckled, sliding in next to you.

“Guess I am.”

He shut the door behind him—this was happening and yet somehow it didn’t even feel real.

A chance to spend the entire night with you?

It just didn’t feel real to him.

“I’m Camila,” You introduced yourself, extending a hand towards him.

He took your hand, holding it in his.

“Camila,” Joel repeated with a smile. “That’s a real pretty name for a real pretty girl.”

You grinned.

“How about you, cowboy? You got a name?”

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well Joel Miller, it seems like we aren’t complete and total strangers anymore, are we now?”

His own grin widened. “No, darlin’ I suppose we ain’t.”

#queued to post #fic: talk tonight #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #Joel miller x original female character #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller story #joel miller series #pedro pascal characters

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portraitofariel · 1 month

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I came across this brilliant post and it reminded me of a dream I had a while ago about the show’s future. In my dream, Carmy eventually got back together with Claire out of loneliness and a last ditch effort to make it work because he’s too broken to go after Sydney but the relationship falls apart again. The Grand Opening is a success but not enough to generate long term interest that covers overhead, and by the end of the year, The Bear runs out of money. Cicero reluctantly calls it quits, as he can’t keep loaning them money, and there’s also internal problems. The death of Marcus’ mother is so devastating that he steps down to be with his family, Nat has a difficult birth which leaves her out of commission and motherhood is exhausting.

Carmy and Sydney don’t resolve their issues but the flame within keeps going, yet they both run from their feelings even after The Bear closes. In desperate need of a life change, Carm applies to some art schools and actually gets accepted to one in Florence, Italy. Alone and more broken than ever before, he quickly starts a new life in a foreign county—mirroring his choice to leave home for Denmark. The one exception being he doesn’t tell anyone where he is; he occasionally checks in with Sugar but only tells her he’s “somewhere safe” and “not to worry about him”.

Sydney finds herself at a crossroads. She poured everything she had into The Bear and now that’s gone, she goes through a bout of depression. She still loves to cook but her drive wains, leaving her to question what’s next for her. She considers her other passions: writing, sewing, textiles, management—and after a few months of going through the motions, she thinks about maybe stepping away from cooking as well. Emmanuel supports this idea as well and encourages her to try something new, even if it’s just for a little while. He also reiterates that she didn’t fail at The Bear and that she created something truly special, even if only for a while.

Months go by and still not a word from Carmy. She talks to Nat often, even spends time with the baby, but she stopped asking about Carm months ago. She tries to pretend his disappearance doesn’t hurt but she misses him more each day. Why, she doesn’t care to know anymore. He made his choice and now she needs to make her own.

One night while having dinner with Nat and Pete, they talk about plans for the future. Nat tells Syd she remembers that navy sweater with the hand stitched embroidery at the collar and on the sleeve (2x02 ‘SYD’ sweater with green stitching). Syd mentions her love of patterns and fabrics, and she tells them she’s been hand-sewing since middle school. She always liked bespoke items and she wishes she would’ve done more with that particular skill. This segues into a conversation about how Carmy was the one who wasn’t afraid to follow his dreams when he went to Copenhagen and Nat wagers that’s probably where he is now, or back in New York.

Syd shrugs and changes the subject to travel, stating she thought about going back to New York but says it’s not far enough (Sug’s comment about Carmy possibly being there discourages her from going). Nat lightens the mood with a joke, “I don’t think a single Berzatto has been to Italy. Pete and I have always wanted to but with Benny (Benicio—their infant son), its not gonna happen any time soon”. Syd tells she went to Paris once with her dad for her 21st birthday, but always wishes they would’ve taken the train to Milan. The culture, food, fashion, and architecture resonate with her and she always wanted to experience it firsthand. Pete chimes in “You know, there’s a fashion school there: Polimoda. My brother and his girlfriend, Louisa—they live in Florence and she goes there. I can talk to Chris (his brother) and have him email you or something. He’s a nice guy.”

Syd rebuffs the idea at first, thanking him but telling him she’s not sure she’s the “fashionista type” (air-quoting with her fingers). Then Nat interjects “Oh please! Syd, you such a unique style and perspective. You might be surprised just how much you enioy stepping away from the kitchen for a while.”

“Let’s say I entertain the idea. Nat, how would I even pay for this? I mean, yeah I’ve saved up here and there but come on, Florence? I don’t see how I could afford classes and what about housing? It’s a fever dream if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Maybe you could stay with Chris and Louisa. They have a gorgeous house, they send us pictures all the time. Look-” Pete jumps up to get his laptop and shows her the photos.

Now Sydney knows she’s lost, or is drunk, if she’s considering living with strangers in a foreign country. As the night goes on, Pete reaches out to his brother and Syd finds herself dreaming of Italy after they take her home.

Two days later she gets an email from Chris and she can’t believe he contacted her. Over the next week they Skype and discuss how this would work and if she’s a good fit. Chris and Louisa say they heard amazing things about her and her work at The Bear, and they’d love to have her. She’s overwhelmed with emotion that she’s really thinking about going and after she talks to her dad, he’s cautious but amendable. He tells her she has to decide for herself what’s best and that he trusts her to make good choices, especially after her short success at The Bear. But he also tells her not to rush or pour everything into yet another venture.

But truthfully she wants to get away, and forget about how the restaurant for a while. And so after much deliberation, she decides to do it. She figures she’ll get a job cooking part-time to supplement her expenses but focus on being more than a chef. She wants to enjoy herself for once; to live for more than trying to make everything a thing.

A month later she lands in Florence and some time later while out to dinner with Louisa, she nearly passes out when she and Carmy spot each other that night.

#charged and sexy #platonic and messy #carmy x sydney #chefs kiss #syd adamu #sydcarmy #the bear #the bear hulu #you with the dark curls #you with the watercolor eyes #wet hot and sweet #carmy the bear #syd x carmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #sydney adamu

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months

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Good afternoon! Can I request a fic with Claude Frollo x an albino!Fem!reader who is a very strict and prim aristocrat whom Frollo is madly in love with and is trying to win her over? thank you in advance!

My pale star

warning : kinda fluff, kiss, tiny comfort, implied obsession

Info : OMG I loveeee the concept of your request dear anon and the albino reader I had already an idea on what I want the outfit to look like. I really hope you like it and have fun reading ;)

cover by me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the bells rang for morning mass, the metal clashed and the rich and poor rushed to the church to cleanse themselves of their sins, she was among the masses.

He had always seen her, his white flower, his star that stood out from the crowd and that he could only see at night when she shone so beautifully.

He himself on his horse, which rode like a shadow through the streets of Paris, made his way to the church, always sending his carriage. Snowball knew he had to gallop quickly to get there before the people arrived and the judge arrived.

He got off his horse in front of the wooden door and got there a minute before she did. In his hand was the mass-produced ring, which he put back into the kelien casket when he saw the carriage arrive from the dark wood.

The horses white as the clouds overhead, white as the moon and the stars, white and pale as his favorite. His darling, his love, she had him completely under her spell.

It had been like a witch ever since he had seen her when she had lifted her veil to wipe away the tears that seemed to be in her eyes like the stars ever since he had looked under the clothes of the fine veil it had been true for him she was the most beautiful thing on this planet, free from sin and taking him with her.

All she had to do was return his love and it would be perfect. Watching as the Kutcher brought the horses to a halt and the diner jumped from the back of the carriage and opened the door, the first thing he saw was her white gloves.

He had only ever seen the light-colored fabric except for one day, but it only added to her extraordinary beauty. The white dress with the reddish ruffles embroidered by hand.

The long sleeves and slippers and on her head the veil under the white hood which only gave a hint of what her hair might look like. ,,Greetings this morning, my lady, may the Lord have mercy on your soul," he greeted her as he dismounted his horse and walked over to her, luiefe saw that she only looked at him with her eyes and held her head high.

She was an aristocrat, her father owned several plantations and textile weavers, her mother died in childbirth and she was the only child who could dispose of her own money as she wished.

,,God bless you judge and this city" she said something for the first time one morning as she went to the statue of St. Mary and left him behind. Frollo knew breaking etiquette would be an insult to her and her family he had to do it differently he had to woo her.

His angel, his lovely star as he went to the rows of wood himself and said the prayer. But his eyes kept looking at her as she lowered her head, the veil covering her. But he had seen her pale reddish eyes under the embroidered fabric that hung over her face.

He wanted to understand what was "wrong" with her, that this sin was a punishment from God, which is why she always prayed. But what was sin to her was everything to him. He wanted her like the forbidden, desirable fruit of the apple tree.

The minutes passed, the sun rose over the city and the stained glass of the windows shone on her and he fell, looking at her in color instead of white.

He lit a candle, folded his hands, and felt the ring's box in the pocket of his robe before he watched her again as she slowly rose from her kneeling position, wiped the dust from her dress and walked to the exit.

Before the people came, the people of the normal lower population. ,,My lady please wait I have heard of the good news of your lord father's factory" he began and was pleased to see her pause and wait for him.

Her hands folded in front of her dress, she watched him as best he could see under the veil. ,,I had taken the liberty of contacting him...and asked for an invitation to hear your playing your harp," he explained, knowing that she played her harp in her family circles and among her closest confidants.

He couldn't quite tell if it was indignation or exasperation that flashed in her eyes as she stood to resume her posture as an aristocrat.

,,My lord father will make a decision in your favor, I presume. Please, if it is convenient for you Judge Frollo, come to my estate and I will play for you," she replied and was about to turn away from him when he brought a ,,Wait please" after her, she paused turning her head slightly and shaking her shoulders as he handed her the casket.

,,A gift as a token of my gratitude for your generosity," he said, smiling gently as her fingers brushed over her gloves, feeling her warmth for a moment before she tucked the small box into her long sleeves.

,,That...that's very kind of you Lord Frollo, thank you" she said quietly not full of conviction more like she was embarrassed as if this fire in him had caught her for a moment.

,,Please, for such a beautiful flower, it's the least you can do," he said as a matter of course and bowed slightly as she curtseyed and stepped out of the church first, the sun flashing as the wood was opened and disappearing again as it closed.

But Frollo stayed behind, knowing that he was one step closer to her heart, she was open, he had seen it, had felt its lovely warmth and fire. There was only one last thing to do that night and she would be his.

The evening couldn't come soon enough for him. The sun was slowly setting, bathing the city in gold, but he knew that once he visited her and listened to the sound of her harp, it was only a matter of time before he would use the ring he had given her.

Her apartment, though a little smaller than his own, was lined with magnificent stone, wood and statues, the entrance lined with pictures and books, and Frollo knew he would find her in the music room.

Knew as he walked through the front door that he would hear the sound of her unnaturally pale hands wiping the pages. Her singing soft and beguiling he felt his heart beat faster. He wanted her.

He wanted her when he saw that she had taken off her veil, her fingers were not covered by gloves and he saw the silver ring with a moonstone on it. ,,You're more beautiful than any star out there in the sky," he had flattered her for a moment, watching her stop crying as she turned her head away, not yet wanting to believe his words.

,,Please my lord enjoy the play...if my appearance disturbed you the Judge I can cover myself too" she said quietly almost whispering as if she was afraid that someone would hear them both. But he only shook his head in confusion as she stopped playing, rose from her seat and came to him.

,,Your look my pretty pale flower quite the opposite it's a pleasure to see you every day" he said and let his fingers run over her ring on her finger saw how she moved back to avoid the contact almost shco was too close.

But only almost, as it was true in the Bible Eve would give in to temptation and Adam would still love her more than anything. ,,Your body is my personal carnal pleasure...you are the most beautiful thing on this earth my love" he purred and his other hand brushed a white loose strand of hair behind her ear of her elaborate hairstyle.

He saw the shame in her reddish eyes at his words, but it was the shame that made her cheeks slightly flushed. ,,You-You don't know what you're saying, Frollo," she murmured, lowering her gaze to her dress, her fingers nervously playing with one of the bows.

But when he told her to look at him again, overcoming the last few moments between them, he felt it. He finally felt her warmth on his lips as he kissed her softly, holding her body gently with his hands.

Knowing that he had committed a sin for the first time but seeing that beautiful look of love in her face as she did not break away from him, her hands remained around his and something like devotion flashed in her eyes, the judge knew that his pale flower finally belonged to him forever until the last stars in the sky would fade away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @nunezs-stuff , @magmabayvi , @aliensthegreat

#disney movies #the hunchback of notre dame #the hunchbag of notre dame frollo #judge claude frollo #claude frollo #judge claude frollo x reader #claude frollo x reader #frollo x reader

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rxgnor0k · 2 years

Text

A Stroll Around Paris — J.Quinn

Masterlist➢𖤓

Summary: <You and Joseph take a night walk down the streets of Paris, but end up confessing your love for each other >

Pairings: <Joseph Quinn x costar!reader>

Warnings: <fluff, pining, kissing>

a/n: <NOT PROOFREAD. some more Joseph content for the people who love Joseph, go check my other Joseph fic too!!! I hope you like it! >

⚠️ i will not allow anyone copy and pasting my work into any other social platform or site without consulting with me first ⚠️

꧁❦꧂

Normally the skies were full of clouds, and perhaps covered up the beauty of the whole sky. But tonight. Tonight was different. The dead and new born stars twinkled under the moon light, and complemented the shining lights upon the city of life.

It was long before you and Joseph had to fly back to London for more press tour things promoting the newest season of the Netflix hit show, Stranger Things. The two of you could’ve been planning for your trip to England, but instead, you both took a stroll around Paris. You couldn’t resist the urge to take a breathe of the air, and take in all the memories you’ve made here. This could possibly be your last chance to peer at the beautiful city before getting back to work with other film projects.

The cars drove by as the wind howled into the dark lovely night. The ends of your long, beige jacket flipped upwards by the wind, as you cling to Joseph’s arm, intertwining your arms to his.

It was a particularly colder night than the rest you’ve experienced. Usually it was a bit warmer, but the weather decided to switch up. Though you weren’t mad, it was a bit calming. It added a bit of an aesthetically pleasing feeling to the stressful interviews you had to do all day.

All you did was hang out with Joseph all day. Your characters, Jen and Eddie, were very close in the show, so why wouldn’t you be close with Joseph. There were days where you’d just sit around and talk all day, but other days you would go out to see a ballet or visit the infamous art museum, the Louvre Museum.

Though lately, you noticed things were quite different. You noticed the twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t shown before, or the way he’d smile at you when you were passionately explaining something. You could tell that there was some kind of love between the two of you, but you couldn’t own up to it. You were afraid of the rejection that you could possibly face. Which is why, in your final night in Paris, you were going to confess to your love for Joseph. You needed to face your fears and get it over with before it was too late.

Stopping at the end of a pathway in the middle of the park, you and Joseph go to sit down on a bench with a nice view of the overlay of the scenery. It was a bit dark, but that was what you wanted. The two of you sat in silence, admiring the other’s presence.

“The star’s are beautiful aren’t they,” Joseph says, glancing up at the stars overhead. “I admire them.”

“Why is that?” you ask.

“They remind me of someone,” he replies, looking straight at you. “Someone I love very much.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. “Oh.”

Joseph grinned as he took your hands in his. He could tell there was something you wanted to say, and he knew exactly what it was.

“Is there something on your mind, Y/n?” he asks. “Something that you want to throw out of your mind?”

“Yes, but I can’t say it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what they’ll think.”

“You can’t tell me anything, you that right?” he says, seemingly genuine.

You hesitate at first, but relax as you fell Joseph’s hand on your shoulder, easing you.

“Jo, there’s no other way to say this, but… I love you. I have for a very long time.”

Joseph sat up straight, facing forward and not directly at you. He chewed his bottom lip in an happy manner.

This made you nervous. Had you just risked everything and confessed to the love of your life? Maybe now wasn’t the right time to say things, but it certainly was.

Joseph took your hands in his again, and looked at you straight in the eyes with a happy grin.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

You heart stopped for a second before it began racing. If there was a camera that was hidden in your minds, loads of fireworks of gone off like it was new years celebration. The words that came out of his mouth made you melt like the butter in an heated pan.

You grabbed the collar of his jacket and engulfed him in a deep kiss. He caressed the side did your face, and slid a hand around your waist, deepening the kiss. By now you were both practically on top of each other. You both pulled away, wiping off the saliva from the others mouth. The only thing you could hear was the breathes that came out of your mouth. You went back in, but instead of kissing him, you embraced him in an hug. It took him a second to respond, but he did the same.

“I don’t think you understand how long, I’ve wanted to do that, Jo,” you say, nuzzling you face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve wanted to say those words, since our first interview together, Y/n.”

And so on, the two of you began the flourishing relationship, which took a toll on the fans. There was nothing more than the live you received from Joseph. It was like a dream come true with all the press and stuff. Right now, you were the happiest you could ever be.

꧁❦꧂

a/n: <I wrote this one in a night, not my best work, but I'm kinda of please with it. Pls don't mind the amount of spelling mistakes I've made in this. Byeee!>

Reposts and requests are always welcomed! Make sure to go check ou my other stuff! My masterlist is linked at th top of the page! Thank you for reading my fan fic!

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comatosebunny09 · 11 months

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moontide | r. kyojuro

summary: he looks at you with certainty in his eyes, as if he’s ready to dive into the crevasse with you. he'd do it a thousand times over. after all, he's waited years to take the leap. genres: romance, friends-to-lovers, modern au cw: use of alcohol, mutual pining, language, stream of consciousness, incomplete music: l'amour, les baguettes, paris - stella jang

It begins innocently enough.

Or as innocent as a reunion between friends can be, given the setting and people involved.

The bottle of Casamigos being passed around exacerbates things. Loosens tongues and inhibitions while dredging up memories of a childhood long-passed.

A cacophony of sounds typical of longtime friends paints the space beneath the gazebo. Shot glasses slam against acacia. Varying pitches of groans and laughter stain the atmosphere. Music spills from the Bluetooth speaker. Nostalgia hangs overhead, nebulous like the galaxies littering the sky.

Your laughter is amongst the fray, high and light. Soaked with Tequila, but it’s genuine. Your cheeks simmer with it, alongside the balmy caress of the breeze. Lips ache with a smile as you toy with the drawstrings of your blouse. You feel full. You missed this.

It’s divine, being home. Being tucked beneath willowy palm trees, the briny wind stinging your lungs, and sand grating the interstices of your toes. The sea at your back, singing its gentle cadence. Sandwiched between companions who have filled the gaps between your ribs for two decades. Recounting memories stashed between the folds of your mind for safekeeping.

Though the years have dragged you all apart, you’ve floated back. Eventually returned to the shoreline like driftwood.

Your gaze shifts. Caught by watercolor swatches of gold and crimson. Your smile loses a bit of its luster. Falters, because there he sits. At the edge of the bench, cheek propped on his hand, gaze swimming, mirth coloring his features. Mitsuri’s beside him, siphoning his attention.

The liquor does little to stop the envy curdling in your gut. Your mouth pulls into a grimace whilst another set of chuckles leaves Kyojuro’s lips. It’s not you eliciting such a sound, after all. It’s not—

How immature you sound—a brat forced to share a toy in the sandbox. You could smack yourself. Mitsuri is your friend. Been here since you were a teen, all awkward juts of bone and metal filling your mouth. Known of your infatuation with the blond for years. She wouldn’t dream of coming between you. Besides—a glance beneath the table reveals pale fingers twining shyly with tanned ones in her lap—Iguro holds her heart. Always has. Always will.

“—alright?”

You blink away your reverie. Vision ebbs and flows like cerulean waves lapping at the shoreline. His eyes bring you back first, wading beneath furrowed brows. Glimmering like the sunset against the ocean. Posing a question you know you’ll lie to.

Next are the worn pads of his fingers skating between the grooves of your knuckles. Gentle and homely like the caw of the seagulls in the distance. Thumb slipping beneath the clutch of your hand, memorizing every stitch and line. You flinch beneath the weight of it when he squeezes. Veins working overtime. He doesn’t seem to notice, his stare heavy and drawing you in like a whirlpool.

Sand fills your throat. Funnels into your chest. Gathers in your stomach, and your heart sinks with it. You somehow forget how to breathe. How to—okay, it goes like—

In.

Out.

In—

How—

Embarrassing. You’re 30-something. Seasoned, yet pining for your friend like he’s some grade school crush. He’s always had this way of wheedling himself beneath your skin. Peeling back the layers like an onion, leaving you raw and exposed. Even after all this time.

“I’m good,” you chuckle once your voice returns. The dissonance in your mind congeals like sea foam. You swallow against a tidal wave of anxiety. Avert your gaze to your lap, errant splinters from the table biting into your palm.

“You will let me know when you are ready to leave, right?” Kyojuro queries, dragging your stare back to him. A pang shoots like lightning through you. The softness of his voice. Warm like the summer sun beating on your chest. You don’t deserve it. Yet, it’s typical of him to ask. He’s long since assumed the role of your DD. He doesn’t drink. You’re envious of his resolve.

“Yeah,” you say simply. Lashes stained with kohl shutter, your gaze flitting down to where your hands meet. You turn your palm skyward to hold his. Harmless affection between friends. You convince yourself it means nothing when Kyojuro clutches you tighter, as if letting you go will cause you to disappear in a plume of smoke.

Mitsuri’s look is telling in your peripheral. Twinkling like sea glass beneath the golden glow of the gazebo’s lights. A beam threatens to take possession of her features. But she remains quiet, diverting her attention to Iguro. A friend through and through.

She’ll tease you about this later. You just know it.

Sanemi is the first to notice. Or the first to vocalize it.

He’s always been infuriatingly observant despite the aloofness he exudes. The low gravel of his voice cuts through the amalgam of merriment, shining the proverbial spotlight on you from the opposite end of the table. “Your glass has stayed pretty full over there,” he husks, your name added with a snort. “Wonder what our little angel has been up to in the big, bad city.”

You cut your eyes at Sanemi, your laughter petering. He looks at you from the tip of his nose, throwing back another shot of Tequila. A silent challenge leaving tension clinging to the air like sea salt.

He isn’t wrong. Since the festivities began—a wholesome game of Never Have I Ever that of course erred down a suggestive path—your shot glass has remained surprisingly full. You’ve lived several lifetimes since you left your sleepy hometown. Had a few lovers. Experimented. Unlocked different rooms of your psyche when you traded your flip-flops for high-heels and knee-length skirts. No longer the innocent husk you left behind, molded by time and experience.

“What haven't you done?” Sanemi quips, garnering the scrutiny of your friends.

With a shrug of your shoulders, you idly fiddle with your glass. Feel eight sets of eyes boring into you, kindling with various degrees of interest. Stripping you down to the marrow.

The cool glass turns in your fingers, light crystals reflecting off it. You scan the library of your muddled mind for something to dispel the silence. Something to make you human. You find your voice amid the sea, stained with nonchalance, the alcohol having thoroughly loosened your tongue.

But, of course, you would admit something so brazen. So intimate. And, of course, a particular set of sunset eyes would find yours through the discord of your friends, their collective gasps and laughter rivaling the static filling your ears.

And of course, he hasn't taken his eyes off you since.

It comes through the slurry of your thoughts. A lighthouse beaconing through the storm.

Tengen’s voice, laced with agave, crackles like pebbles dragged by the surf. His breath skates along the outskirts of your ear as he slurs, “You act like you're hot shit, but you haven’t changed one bit.” He dangles on a tightrope between sobriety and inebriation. Always been better at holding his liquor. A man his size has to.

You turn towards him in the violet haze of the night, head swimming. Catch sight of garnet-spun eyes dancing, dancing with amusement, chin propped on his palm.

Confusion occupies the space between your brows. Your lips quiver with a question you already know the answer to. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

Tengen shrugs, much to your chagrin. Gaze flicks across from you, confirming that creeping suspicion. He combs through gossamer strands whilst you peek at a certain blondie you’ve been playing peek-a-boo with all night. A smirk cants Tengen’s lips when your gazes realign, browbones waggling. The warmth blossoming in your neck stems from more than just alcohol.

It’s harder to swallow now. Harder to breathe, your throat pulsing, and your blood thundering in your ears. The frayed threads of a hole in your jeans are suddenly more interesting, twirling between shaky fingers. You chew your lip, heat spilling into your chest. Ten’s never been one to letup, cornering you like the proverbial lamb laid to slaughter.

“Better tell ‘em before I do, city girl,” Tengen drawls. Side-eyes you whilst throwing back another shot, his glass striking the table with finality.

You shrink beneath his scrutiny like a scolded child. Know that he’ll do good on his threat. He’s never one to pull punches. Your idle crush has run Tengen ragged over the years, to the point where he’s come close to diming you out on numerous occasions. Would it be selfish of you to ask him to hold on a bit longer?

He casts you another warning look before hauling himself up from the bench, the acacia groaning beneath his might. You wince at the shrillness of it. Sink further, left at the mercy of your pride and anxiety.

You reach across before you know it. Find his hand through the discord, snatching Kyojuro away from his conversation, hesitation hanging in the air. His eyes shine with worry, fingers curling into your palm.

“Think I’m ready to go,” you breathe, fluttering your lashes against the wetness gathering beneath them. You offer a facsimile of a smile. “Tequila’s not sittin’ right with me.”

He doesn’t ask questions. Rarely does. Crow’s feet line the corners of his eyes. “Let’s go,” Kyojuro mouths, drawing you up from the bench alongside him.

You don’t bother with formalities, creeping away from your friends like two teens taking part in a naughty secret. You’ll beg for their forgiveness later. For now, you need a breather. Though, it’s become increasingly difficult to breathe with him beside you, his hand warm and reassuring in yours whilst he tugs you towards the surf.

A walk along the sea-line and the glittering stars before he takes you back to the icy, lonely clutch of your home.

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #kny reader insert #rengoku kyojuro fluff #kyojuro fluff

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ao719 · 9 months

Text

…Sometimes Not (Part 6)

The Scars Still Follow Me Around

Song inspo: Don’t Hold Me - Dean Lewis

A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Thank you @burnsoslow for prereading! Please excuse any errors.

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)

Rating: T • Warnings: None but some mild language.

Catch up here

“Are you all packed?”

Reyna looked at her phone that was propped up against the pillows on her bed. “Yeah,” she replied, patting the top of her suitcase. “I think I got everything.”

“Everyone is really excited you’re coming,” Liam chuckled. “When I told Maxwell, he was practically bouncing up and down.”

Reyna smiled. “It’s been a long time …”

Liam smiled in return. “Too long.”

In the few months since Liam and Reyna’s Paris run-in, the two had quickly fallen back into the friendship they once had. They resumed their video chats a few times a week and kept one another up to date on their day-to-day, playfully bantered and bickered, and laughed and joked, just like old times.

It was crazy how once that awkwardness ebbed away, it felt like no time at all had passed. They were back to the Liam and Reyna they were before they crossed that line … and that included her keeping her feelings for him hidden, just like she had before. Their past situation had gone unspoken about by either of them, seemingly brushed under the rug and ignored as though that part of their story never happened. He didn’t bring it up, so neither did she … but maybe that was for the best.

Liam had also been in New York a few times, and the pair had hung out like they always had before. Now, Reyna was preparing for a trip to Cordonia. It was Leo’s 30th birthday, and the Aldridge family had been invited to attend the ball being thrown in his honor. Liam had called to extend the invitation himself along with the offer to send the royal jet for them. Reyna smiled as she said she was looking forward to it … but behind that smile lingered some scars.

This trip to Cordonia would mark the first time Reyna had returned since Liam’s coronation ball, the last time she saw him before their reunion three years later; it would also be the first time she would see any of the Cordonian gang since then as well. Knowing she was going back there was proving to be more difficult than she thought it would be.

More than three years had passed, but Reyna’s upcoming visit brought to light unresolved feelings and issues that she hadn’t realized she held onto until now. And along with that was a simmering resentment she didn’t even know she carried.

“You ok?” Liam asked, pulling Reyna from the daze she’d fallen into.

“Yeah,” Reyna smiled as she looked at him through the screen. “Just tired. It is almost midnight here.”

“You can sleep on the flight over,” Liam said. “Also, I made sure the jet was stocked with all your favorite snacks.”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Reyna chuckled.

Liam winked with a grin, then glanced at his watch. “Alright, I better shower and start my day. And you need to go meet your parents at the airport. I’ll see you later.”

Reyna smiled halfheartedly. “Can’t wait …”

****

A couple of hours later, high above the North Atlantic, Reyna stared down at her book, the words blurring together beneath the dim overhead cabin light. She couldn’t concentrate; the jet smelled of rich leather mixed with the lingering scent of Liam’s cologne. All she could think about was him … and her impending arrival in Cordonia.

“I’m surprised you’re not asleep,” Gideon said just above a whisper.

Reyna glanced over at him; he was sitting in the seat across from her, beside her sleeping mother. “Same to you.”

Gideon smiled. “So … what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” Reyna replied with a shrug. “Just reading.”

Gideon gave her a look, and when Reyna furrowed her brows in question, he sighed. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, the way you’ve been staring at the same page of that book for the last 45 minutes was a dead giveaway.”

Reyna sighed, closing the book and drumming her fingers against the cover. “This will be my first time back in Cordonia since … everything … and it just seems to be dredging up some stuff.”

“You and Liam are in a good place now,” Gideon said. “You can’t let what happened back then ruin what you just got back.”

“It’s not about Liam.” Not specifically. Reyna glanced over to meet her father’s gaze. “It’s the first time I’m going to see Leo …”

Gideon stared at her for a moment. “Ah,” he nodded in understanding.

“It’s been over three years and I … I didn’t know it even bothered me, but getting ready for this trip, knowing I was going to see him … it seems to have brought up this resentment I didn’t even know I had. All I can think about is what he did being the reason …” Reyna trailed off, shaking her head. “I know, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Gideon said. “But holding a grudge isn’t going to change the past, Reyna.”

“I know,” Reyna sighed.

“Well … perhaps this trip will give you some closure you didn’t know you needed.” Gideon smiled sympathetically when she looked at him. “Try and get some rest.”

****

Much later, after his last meeting of the day, Liam hurried from his study and headed to the south wing to change; Reyna and her parents would be arriving soon. He’d filled his schedule with back-to-back meetings in hopes of helping him pass the time by staying occupied, but it didn’t do much in helping to keep him distracted.

Liam was excited for Reyna’s arrival, but a little on edge, wondering how her visit would affect the way he’d already been struggling. They were in a good place now and he didn’t want anything to ruin that, which is the reason he’d kept how he still felt about her to himself the past few months since their Parisian reunion.

It hadn’t been easy.

They had fallen so easily back into their old routine, and while Liam was enjoying having his best friend back in his life, every time he saw or spoke to Reyna, he was only reminded of all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. Her bigger-than-life personality, her wit, her sense of humor, her brilliant smile and infectious laugh, her kind heart.

Holding those feelings in had been difficult, but there was one thing that helped Liam: the simple fact that he was terrified. He had just gotten Reyna back in his life and he didn’t want to do anything to risk losing her again. Sure, what they shared three years ago was without a doubt the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, but then everything went to hell and he lost his best friend because of it. And that was something they hadn’t even spoken about. They had talked about everything that had happened during those three years apart except the reason they had missed them. It was like it didn’t exist … like crossing that line and how they felt never happened. She didn’t bring it up, so neither did he … but that was probably for the best.

After changing, Liam rushed down to the foyer, having received a message from Bastien that the Aldridge clan had arrived. When he reached the top of the stairs, his eyes immediately fell on Reyna, standing with her parents while they spoke to his father and Regina; she glanced up, smiling when she saw him.

Liam descended the stairs and everyone turned their attention upon hearing him. “Your Majesty,” Gideon grinned.

“None of that,” Liam chuckled, shaking his hand before greeting Catherine with a kiss on her cheek. He then turned to Reyna, meeting her outstretched arms. “Hey, you,” he whispered; he hugged her tightly, inhaling her scent before stepping back. “It’s good to see you all. How was the flight?”

“Long,” Catherine chuckled.

“It’s a tiresome journey,” Constantine said.

“Oh yeah. Flying by private jet,” Gideon playfully rolled his eyes. “How grueling.”

Constantine chuckled and looked at Liam. “I was just saying how nice it is to have Reyna here again.” He glanced back at her, watching Liam sling his arm around her shoulder with a grin. “It’s been so long.”

Reyna smiled. “It has.”

“I couldn’t believe it when Liam told me he ran into you in Paris,” Constantine grinned.

Gideon coughed to conceal his laugh. “Yeah … small world.” He cut his eyes over to Constantine. “So, where’s Leo?”

Constantine chuckled at his quick change of subject. “He’ll be meeting us for dinner.” He looked at his watch. “Which will be in an hour. You should all get settled beforehand.”

Staff members appeared, grabbed Gideon’s and Catherine’s luggage, and headed up the stairs to the guest wing. “Come on,” Liam said as he grabbed Reyna’s bag. “You’re in the south wing with me.”

Reyna nodded, dropping his gaze as they turned toward the stairs; that wing — his wing — held so much history. It was where everything between them started … and where it ended.

“We’ll see you at dinner,” Constantine called out as they reached the top of the stairs; Liam lifted his hand in a wave of acknowledgement before they disappeared down the corridor.

When they entered the south wing, Liam started down the hall toward her room. As Reyna passed by the living area, she paused, hit with the memory of the last time she stood in there.

“I love you so much, Rey … and I wish that were enough. But things … they are different here.”

“So that’s it? Everything that we had … is just done and over … just like that? Like none of it ever happened … like none of it fucking mattered at all?”

“You matter. We matter, Reyna. We always have. I … didn’t cross that line … with the intention of us finishing here …”

“Rey?” Liam called out. She stiffened, blinking away the tears before continuing down the hall. His brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Reyna smiled. “Just jet lagged.”

Liam stepped inside her room, setting her bag down; she flopped down on the bed a moment later, and he chuckled as he laid on his side next to her, propping his head on his hand as she yawned. “You have time to rest before dinner.”

Reyna glanced at him. She wasn’t quite ready to see everyone. “Do you think we could have dinner up here, just us? We can hang out … maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Liam nodded, not thinking anything of it; he knew she was probably tired. “No one will mind. What are you in the mood for?”

They stared at one another, both their mouths curling into smiles as they tried to read the other. “Pizza,” they chuckled. “Jinx.”

“I’ll call for it and let my father know we won’t be joining them,” Liam smiled as he rose from the bed.

*******

That night, after consuming two pizzas while watching some rom-com Reyna put on, Liam lay wide awake in bed. Not only was Reyna’s presence there keeping him awake, but the way she seemed off was as well. It could have been as simple as the jet lag like she said, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something else.

Once they decided to remain in the south wing for dinner, Reyna seemed fine; she was fine while they ate and watched their movie, talking and laughing with him the entire time. Then Leo called, asking if they wanted to meet up for drinks because he hadn’t seen her yet. Reyna’s demeanor shifted; she said she was tired and was going to go to bed.

Liam rolled to his side, letting out a breath. He wondered if just being there was hard for her … and if it was hard, was it because maybe … maybe she still felt — No. He scolded himself as he closed his eyes, pushing the thought far out of his mind.

*******

The following afternoon, with the palace abuzz with final preparations for that evening’s ball, Liam and Reyna strolled through the gardens.

Liam’s eyes slid to Reyna; she’d still been acting off. Any time he asked if she was ok, she said she was fine, but he wasn’t buying it. She opted for one of his omelets that morning instead of joining their families for breakfast and seemed to get lost in thought a few times while they walked through the palace afterward. It only made him question the thought he had last night that he was trying but failing to ignore.

When they came to the hedges at the entrance of the garden maze, Liam turned to her with an impish grin. “It’s been a while … how well do you think you remember?”

Reyna laughed knowingly. “I could find my way blindfolded.”

“Bold words,” Liam quipped.

“I’ll even give you a head start so I can’t follow, and I bet I still beat your royal ass to the center.”

Liam’s brow arched at her challenge. “You must love losing.” He turned and ran into the pathway.

Reyna laughed as she started after him, but then the memory of the last time she stood in that spot between the hedges made her freeze in place.

“I wish I could go back and change it, Liam … I wish I could take it all back, that entire summer. I regret all of it.”

“Don’t say that, Rey … you don’t mean that.”

“I do. Because at least if it never happened … you and I would still be friends. The exact fear that had kept us from crossing that line all these years … has now become a reality, Liam. A decade worth of friendship … it’s been ruined. And for what? Because in the end … none of it was worth it. It broke our friendship, and I can’t speak for you … but it broke me. And there’s no coming back from it … nothing between us will ever be the way that it was before we crossed that line.”

“I don’t hear you!” Liam’s voice singsonged in the distance. “Are you lost already?”

Pulled from the memory, Reyna shook her head and let out a shuddered breath before she started after him.

****

That evening, Leo’s birthday ball was well underway. Liam stared at Reyna from where he waited at the bar for a refill while she caught up with Maxwell and Olivia. Despite appearing to have a good time to everyone else, he knew her and could tell she was putting on a bit of a front. Something was bothering her, and he was pretty certain at that point that he was right in thinking that being there was hard for her. He’d finally pieced it together once he realized the significance of each place where she seemed to get lost in thought, including that ballroom; when they entered, she momentarily froze as if hit by a painful wave of nostalgia.

What Liam couldn’t figure out is what it meant, if anything at all.

While speaking to a group of friends across the ballroom, Leo spotted Reyna as she stepped away from Maxwell and Olivia and headed for the balcony. He excused himself from the group and started making his way toward her.

Like his brother, Leo was good at reading people, and it was obvious to him that Reyna had been avoiding him since her arrival. She’d skipped out on dinner the night before, declined to have drinks, skipped breakfast that morning, and had yet to even say hello to him that night. She was alone on the balcony now, however, and there was a long overdue conversation they needed to have.

Leo knew that his actions three years ago catalyzed Liam and Reyna’s downfall. What he did was the reason things between them had ended because Liam was suddenly faced with the duty and responsibility of the crown and all of the bullshit that went along with it. He’d heard over time from both his father and Liam about how Reyna was affected by everything that transpired after.

When Leo heard from Liam that the Aldridges were coming for his birthday celebration, he told himself then that he would talk to Reyna. It might be three years too late and there was a good chance she’d never forgive him, but he needed to at least try to give her the apology he had long since owed her. She may be his brother’s best friend, but Reyna was his friend, too; he also shared over a decade worth of memories with her, and she became the sister he never had.

Reyna stood on the balcony, letting the cool night air wash over her. As good as it had been to see some familiar faces that night, that was the last place she wanted to be. The moment she stepped inside the ballroom on Liam’s arm, the night of his coronation and watching him choose someone else flashed in her mind. She’d wanted to leave ever since. It was ridiculous, she knew, to allow the past to affect her this way, but it was as if her mind and heart were screaming for closure she wasn’t sure she’d ever truly get, not when it came to Liam anyway.

That trip only continued to remind Reyna of how unfinished they felt and probably always would, at least to her.

When Leo stepped outside, Reyna turned upon hearing him; he watched her shoulders slightly stiffen, but she smiled. “Hey, stranger.”

“Hi,” Reyna replied. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Leo smiled as he came next to her.

“I was going to come find you later … once everyone stopped crowding around you,” Reyna lied.

“No worries,” Leo nodded, then looked at her. “How’s it feel to be back?”

Reyna glanced away from him. “It’s been fine.”

Leo sighed. “Listen, I, uh … I’m actually glad I caught you out here because there’s something I really need to say to you.” He let out a breath as she looked at him again. “I owe you one hell of an apology for everything that happened that summer you were here.”

Reyna was surprised he’d brought it up, but despite feeling the way she had been, she tried brushing it under the rug; she couldn’t bring herself to let him know it still bothered her. “That was three years ago,” she shook her head. “It’s in the past.”

“Is it?” Leo questioned, and she furrowed her brows. “Reyna, you’ve been avoiding me since you got here.” Guilt flashed across her face, and he shook his head. “I don’t blame you. We haven’t seen each other since that night, and I never gave you the apology you deserve. And I understand if you hate me because what I did back then was so fucked. I wish I could go back and change how I went about it, but I can’t. But I’m truly sorry for everything you had to go through and deal with because of what I did.”

Reyna stared up at him, and just like that, her resentment was snuffed out; his acknowledgment and genuine apology turned out to be exactly what she didn’t know she needed. Then, guilt of her own hit her. “I’m sorry, too … for avoiding you and not just talking about it. To be honest … I didn’t even know it bothered me until I was packing and it just … hit me that I was going to see you for the first time. Then all of these … feelings followed … and I didn’t really know how to go about dealing with them.”

“I get it,” Leo nodded. “I … I wasn’t thinking back then … at least not about anyone but myself. When I came back, Liam … boy did he let me have it.” He rubbed his jaw, remembering the crack of his brother’s fist across it that day. “He was so angry with me … and so broken. And then I heard from my father about how you had been … and I felt so guilty knowing I was the reason you both were hurting so much.”

Reyna let out a breath. “For what it’s worth … it wasn’t only your doing. I know I was to blame, too, for how certain things played out.”

Leo knitted his brows. “How are you to blame?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Reyna shook her head. “It really is in the past now,” she subtly smiled. “And if Liam can forgive you, I certainly can.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Leo scoffed. “It took him nearly a year to be close to normal with me again,” he chuckled. “But thank you … for your forgiveness. Honestly, it’s the best birthday present I could have asked for.” He held his arms out in an offer, and she smiled as she stepped forward and he pulled her into a hug. “By the way—” He squeezed her tightly before he stepped back “—It’s fucking good to have you back. Liam moped around this goddamn place for the last three years like you were his puppy someone dognapped.” Reyna snorted, but then her eyes slightly widened, darting from him to over his shoulder. Leo stiffened. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Sure the fuck am,” Liam snapped. “Mind if I steal my puppy for a moment?”

Leo grimaced guiltily as Reyna laughed. “That’s my cue.” He gave her one last hug. “Thank you again,” he whispered before kissing her cheek. He turned, chuckling as he dodged out of the way of Liam’s fist aiming for his arm before disappearing inside.

Reyna met Liam’s gaze when he turned to her; she wondered about how much, if any, of that conversation he’d heard. He smiled at her, slipping his hands into his pockets. “How does continuing our age-old tradition of sneaking out sound?”

Reyna grinned. “Heavenly.”

“Not as heavenly as the burger, fries, and milkshakes I have waiting for us up in my wing,” Liam winked as he held out his hand. Reyna laughed as she took it, and he led her off the balcony.

****

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

Reyna giggled as she stared down at Liam; his head was in her lap with a white bowed microfiber headband keeping his hair back from the facial mask she had painted on him. “Open,” she chuckled.

Liam complied, parting his lips to be fed a French fry. When she pulled the cucumber peels off his eyes, he fluttered them open, staring up at her with a deadpan expression as he chewed, which only made her laugh harder.

“Your face is gonna be so purrty,” Reyna snorted.

“I’m already purrty,” Liam scoffed, finally cracking a smile when she laughed again.

They’d come to the south wing and consumed their burgers, milkshakes, and most of their fries before she talked him into letting her give him a facial. He waited, wondering if she’d bring up the conversation she had with Leo … one he’d partially overheard. He couldn’t take it anymore, though; there was a question burning inside him about something she said that he needed an answer to.

“So … I, uh … I heard you talking to Leo on the balcony,” Liam said tentatively.

The smile faltered from Reyna’s lips. “How much did you hear?”

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was coming to get you to make our getaway … and I heard him apologizing.”

“Yeah,�� Reyna nodded.

Liam continued to stare at her. “I think it’s good that he did … and I know he appreciates you forgiving him. You didn’t hear it from me, but he was a little nervous about you coming,” he smiled ruefully.

Reyna chuckled. “Lil’ old me?”

“Please,” Liam snorted. “I’ve seen you mad. You may be small, but you’re scrappy when you want to be.”

“It’s part of my New York charm,” Reyna quipped.

“Well … I’m glad to know things between you two are back to normal, but …” Liam hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Can I ask you something?” He held her gaze as she nodded. “Why do you blame yourself?”

Reyna took in a deep breath and slowly let it out; she knew it was coming the moment he’d mentioned he overheard. Her fingers brushed against his temples as she adjusted the headband in order to distract herself long enough to come up with something plausible, but the truth came out before she could. “I wasn’t there,” she said in a cracked whisper. “Your dad gave you … gave us … a way, and when you came for me, I wasn’t there. Because I wasn’t coping like a normal person. I had hit rock bottom … and I wasn’t there.”

“Rey …” Liam sat up and turned to face her. “It’s not on you.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he stared at her misty eyes. “Ok, well … you admitted that you blame yourself, so I suppose I should admit …” That I’m still so in love with you and never stopped. “So do I. It remains the biggest regret of my life … and I’m certain it always will be.”

Reyna’s brows knit. “What does?”

“That I didn’t fight harder … for you to stay … for us … to find you when I came to New York. I should have fought harder.”

“Liam …” Reyna shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

“And it’s not yours,” Liam retorted. “It was … it was circumstance, Rey. Do I wish things had been different? Yes, more than anything …” A flash of something flickered in her gaze. Hope? He shook the thought; it wasn’t that. He cleared his throat, needing to mask his mistake. “Because, at the least, we wouldn’t have lost those three years. But taking the blame … that isn’t going to change any of it.” She nodded, knowing he was right. “So how about no more blaming ourselves? Deal?”

Reyna smiled. “Deal.”

“So … is that all that’s been on your mind?”

The way in which he asked Reyna told her he already knew the answer. She should have seen it coming based on the way he kept catching her lost in her musings and asking if she was ok each time. It didn’t matter that they had those three years apart; he still knew her better than anyone, even better than she knew herself most of the time.

“I just …” Reyna shifted her gaze from his, letting out a breath mixed with a wry laugh. “It’s my first time back since …” She trailed off, not needing or wanting to say it. “And I just keep remembering things …”

Liam nodded in genuine understanding. “I get it … I live here, so I really get it.” He had three years to get used to the memories constantly invading him. No matter where he went inside his own home, remnants of their relationship lingered everywhere, good and bad. “But maybe now that you’ve had this first visit and things are better … it’ll be easier next time … if there is a next time.”

Reyna smiled at him. “There’ll be a next time.”

“Good,” Liam smiled in return.

It wasn’t the whole conversation, but the past was somewhat acknowledged, so it would be enough. At the least, they knew that it wasn’t simply forgotten by the other.

As they stared at one another, however, those lingering confessions were on the tips of their tongues, that their past was still very much their present and they both felt the same way now as they did back then.

Neither was willing to put their friendship at risk again, however … so they swallowed the words.

After a moment, with him still staring at her with such genuine affection, Reyna’s head tilted to the side as her smile grew and a chuckle escaped her.

“What’s so funny?” Liam asked.

“I’m having a hard time taking you seriously right now,” Reyna giggled.

Liam’s brows furrowed, but then he watched her gaze flicker up to the bowed microfiber headband he’d forgotten he was wearing; he rolled his eyes with a good-natured grin as she laughed. “Get this shit off my face,” he chuckled as he turned, laying back and resting his head in her lap again.

“You love it,” Reyna smiled down at him. “Ok, but wait …” She grabbed her phone and twisted her upper body, bringing her face down next to his; holding her phone above them, she snapped a photo. “Ok,” she chuckled as she sat up. She took two facial pads, gently wiping his face clean. “There.”

Liam opened his eyes to meet her gaze, and he stared up at her. She started to lean down, and for a moment his heart shot to his throat in anticipation, but then she rested her forehead against his.

“Thank you,” Reyna whispered.

“For what?”

“Knowing me … and knowing I needed to get away and talk.”

Lifting his arm, Liam rested his hand on the back of her neck. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

***************************************

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hopelessromantic423 · 1 year

Text

Same Time, Next Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!reader

Summary: You and Bucky keep running into each other during missions. What happens when a little flirting gets added into the mix?

Warning: teasing, flirting, fluff. No smut. Reader is kind of bad at their job. Time hops.

It was a normal mission. At least, it started off as a normal mission. You were currently situated on the left side of this huge warehouse where illegal weapons were being stored. Your task was to get a specific flash drive that held all the blueprints to these guns and lasers etc.

The room was in sight. A single small room with glass windows meant easy access. You heard your teammate whisper something into your earpiece which caught you off guard.

"What do you mean there’s a guy running around in blue spandex?" you whispered back in confusion.

Like clockwork, your eyes caught Steve Rogers running across the walkway from the other side of the facility. His shield caught the overhead lights beaming downward as he sprinted from one hiding place to the next. "Why is he here," you whispered to yourself while standing up from your hiding spot.

You mapped out your next move but you didn't go far when a loud thunk sound clamored behind you. Swiftly, you turned around to spot a man you had never seen before. He wasn't wearing the facilities uniform, so you took a wild guess and connected him to Captain America.

His blue eyes shot daggers into yours as you grabbed your knife from its holster. "Hey, buddy," was all you could speak before the man with short brunette hair started throwing punches at you. You huffed out an, "excuse me!" while continually fighting the mystery man. You couldn't lie, he was a damn good fighter. "I'm a good guy," you blurted out while dodging one of his knife jabs.

The man finally eased up and took a step back, still ready to pounce at any moment. "I work for SHIELD," you said as calmly as possible. It didn't go as planned when he rolled his eyes and went back to swinging.

"SHIELD is dead," he grunted out while gliding his leg behind you, kicking both of your legs from under you.

"No, it's not! Can we talk like normal people for five seconds," you negotiated while standing up from the cold metal floor. "Jeez, my ass hurts."

"Fine," he huffed, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

"Hi," you stated calmly. "I still work for Nick Fury, you know guy with one eye? Scary as hell?"

"Yea, yea. I know him. Keep talkin'," the man huffed again with a slight New York accent showing through his speech pattern. He looked so unamused, but it was better than dodging a solid metal arm for the next five minutes.

"Newly reformed SHIELD. Blah, blah, blah, you get the gist. I'm here to get info, not get in your way."

A look of frustration still covered the brunette's face as he stared at you like he was trying to read you like a newspaper. "How do I know you're not corrupt like the rest of them?" For the first time in the last ten minutes, his tone was a little softer and more humanistic. He actually wanted to know.

"You're with the Avengers mumbo jumbo," you questioned while sliding your knife back into its holster.

"Maybe," the brunette replied with crossed arms and a look that screamed, "yes but I'm not telling you".

"I used to work with your friend Sam, Air Force."

After one last exchange of glances, you brushed past the mystery man who had an amusing dumbfounded look on his face. "Nice to meet you too asshole," you murmured close enough so he could hear you and kept walking to finish your mission.

The next time you caught up with the mystery brunette was in Paris, France of all places. The city was absolutely beautiful, the only time it wasn't pleasant was when a familiar face made an unexpected cameo.

"Hey watch it!" Feeling a figure close behind you, you couldn't help but yelp while standing on the roof of a nearby pâtisserie. "You again," you sighed taking one glance at him and then turning back to your station.

"I believe it was an asshole to you, (Y/L/N)," the brunette said in a charming tone. You couldn't lie to yourself, your knees buckled slightly as he smiled at you.

Taking a few steps toward him, your hands found themselves fiddling with the straps on the chest of his suit. "You did your research, that's cute," you cooed in a teasing manner.

"Are you going to help or what?" The heavy rope you were currently trying to tie up to the building was giving you trouble and the help happened to be the charming man standing beside you. He jumped right into the action, knotting it in less than five seconds.

"Perfect, see you later James," you stated while using the rope to slide down to the second-floor balcony, leaving him dumbfounded with rosy cheeks.

You had done a little research of your own

The most recent time you had seen James "Bucky" Barnes, famed super soldier and the former assassin was at a gala in New York. Home turf.

Standing near the dance floor with a champagne flute in hand, you eyed the crowd looking for a specific mob boss that you needed to speak with privately. Everything was going smoothly, keyword: was.

"Would you like to dance agent," Barnes whispered right beside your ear with a smart-ass smirk on his face. His short hair was slicked back and he switched his navy leather suit for a sleek all-black tux for the night. He looked like a million bucks.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you chuckled while setting your drink down on a nearby table and allowing Bucky to guide you to the dance floor by the small of your back.

“Ditched the mission suit?”

“You could say that,” you murmured.

Bucky smirked, pulling you closer to him while swaying back and forth. His cheek brushed against yours as he whispered, “for a spy, you’re not very subtle (Y/N).”

You thought you had died and gone to heaven at that moment. Luckily, you stayed on your own two feet and continued eyeing the crowd from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

“When’s your next mission?” Bucky’s deep blue eyes found yours as he questioned.

“Why do you want to know? Planning to sabotage that one too?”

Bucky chuckled while spinning you away from him and back. “I was hoping to take you out on a real date. No bad guys or top secret weapons, just us.”

“I’d like that very much.” A smile plastered on your face as you glanced up at him. Your glance made its way to Bucky’s lips, hoping he’d take the hint. "You'll be the death of me won't you,” he smirked while leaning toward you.

Just as his lips brushed yours, he pulled away making you glance up in confusion. "I think I'll save that for later,” he smiled while wrapping his hand around your waist. You sighed while shaking your head, hoping that your rosy cheeks had disbanded at that point.

"Thanks for the dance, I've got eyes on the target,” you whispered pulling away from Bucky’s grasp. “Pick me up at 6 tomorrow night?"

"I don't know where you live,” Bucky mentioned trying to suppress his smile.

"You'll find it," you said fixing his tie so that it lay flat against his chest. "Good luck," you sang while turning to walk away. Your heels clicked as the distance between the two of you grew further, but you gave him one last glance only to see him staring at you still in awe.

Before Bucky could make the next move, Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers had made their way to each side of him. Sam gave his shoulder a shake just to make sure he was still mentally available.

"I've got a date tomorrow," Bucky said blatantly while turning to Sam.

"Really?" Steve's tone was surprised. "With who?"

"Agent (Y/L/N), from SHEILD."

"How did you manage that?" Sam looked utterly shocked.

"Should I back out?"

"No!" The two men screamed in unison as if the world was ending.

"I asked her out and she shot me down like no tomorrow. Tony couldn't even get her to look in his direction,” Steve mentioned, trying to save his ego.

"Did you trick her? Blackmail?" Sam’s tone was urgent as he questioned.

"No," Bucky chuckled defensively. His hand came up to his mouth to hide his smile. "We just kept running into each other. Maybe it was fate."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fluff #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky imagine

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emjayewrites · 11 months

Text

Flashin’ Lights In A Midst of Darlin’ Nights (1/?)

A fated encounter in The City of Lights changed the lives of an actor and singer forever. And with those darlin’ nights comes even more delights.....

Synopsis: Will Poulter can count on his hands the amount of times he’s been rendered speechless, yet that was until he met singer-songwriter EmJaye. He soon finds himself speechless and dazzled every time he’s in her presence. For Mahalia-Joy, Will hooked her in with his quintessentially British banter. However, in this ruthless industry, a couple needs more to hold onto besides quick laughs and simple awe.

Pairings: Will Poulter x EmJaye (Mahalia-Joy Washington)

Warnings: cursing, adult content, mentions of drugs/alcohol. (Rated 18+)

Taglist: @vargskelegore, @pocfansmatter, @afro-hispwriter, @user0292, @unfriendlyblkhotti3, @sarcasticmrfox , @blackpearlbutterfly, @melancholymelanin, @mochachocolatteyaya, @goldentriostan, @multi-culti-girl @chaneajoyyy

A/N: I do not know Will or his family personally. This is solely fiction and any similarities are coincidental. EmJaye was previously mentioned in a Yahya fic, but her character arc is completely different/changed to fit this fic. I’m so excited to begin this! If interested/want to be tagged, please send me a DM. Enjoy the chapter.

Paris, France — Late June 2022

An upbeat French hip-hop song with a heavy bass echoed through the vast venue, simmering the cacophony of voices into a warm hum. With short, yet steady strides, EmJaye maneuvered through the horde of people until she found herself in the middle of the space.

Squinting, her eyes skimmed each placard and she immediately sat down once she found her seat. Sitting up straighter, she took a surreptitious glance at her phone before scanning the room.

Her doe-like eyes slowly swept their surroundings, stopping every so often for closer examination. Despite the sheer largeness of the space, to her, it had a lingering feeling of suffocation. The sun-filled room, with its show-stopping Baroque-styled windows and ornate furnishings, was filled to the brim with the who's who of the fashion and entertainment world.

Similar to EmJaye, the patrons were donned head-to-toe in various designs by Thom Browne. Although she’d coined herself as an extroverted introvert, the long-haul flight from New York to Paris placed her in the most dissatisfying jet lag. Her limbs were achy, her muscles tight, and her cheeks were swollen beyond relief from almost all of the common remedies.

She felt sluggish, annoyingly so, and regardless of her silent plea for a reprieve, she had to...

“Nice day, isn’t it?” an accented male voice pronounced, pulling EmJaye out of her inner thoughts unexpectedly and causing her to flinch. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A Brit, huh?

The thought disappeared as soon as it arrived in her head once their eyes connected. His blue eyes were filled with concern and EmJaye quickly alleviated his worry with a kind half-smile and a duosyllabic utterance.

“S’okay”.

Returning the gesture, he gave her a lopsided grin of his own; an expression of gratitude.

A comforting silence fell between them, giving EmJaye the chance to study him closely. His dirty blonde hair was styled in a messy, yet attractive pompadour and a smattering of freckles covered the bridge of his nose.

Her invasive thoughts protruded her concentration, reminding her of his saccharine albeit dangerous grin, which caused her eyes to travel lower, tacitly appreciating how his toned body filled his khaki suit.

“Have you been to Paris before?” he spoke without warning, again reeling her back to reality, his expressive eyebrows drawing close together in intrigue.

“Uh...yes,” replied EmJaye with a slow nod and wide grin, eyes twinkling perhaps from a delightful memory or the sheer illuminance of the fluorescent lights overhead. “It’s one of my favorite cities.”

And Will couldn’t help but become transfixed by her gorgeous face and throaty voice.

Despite her outward bravado, upon closer inspection, she released a softness that enthralled him as much as her beauty. He deduced that she was akin to an onion — guarded on the outside, but when the layers are peeled, true vulnerability is revealed.

Her eyes were almost as round as her face, making her look younger than she probably was. Soft natural makeup complemented her blemish-free mahogany skin, delicate facial structure, and lush lips. She wore her raven hair in a curly updo with tendrils falling sensually into her face, which tempted him like no other to reach out a hand to tuck the lock of hair behind her ear.

To his surprise, Will managed to control himself from doing such sinful things by smoothing down his pants.

“Same. Paris has some great food spots. Really amazing bakeries too, if you’re into that sort of thing. I’m Will, by the way.”

Nerves got the best of him, which wasn’t that surprising, yet the awkwardness of his laugh accompanied by the seductive sound of hers instantly made him feel a lot better.

“EmJaye,” she shared.

A light bulb went off in Will’s head. “Oh! You’re a singer!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in realization.

EmJaye’s forehead creased in confusion. His eagerness threw her off at first, yet she remained calm. “Yes. I tend to do that from time to time. And you?”

“Actor,” he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

EmJaye’s eyes squinted, her eyelids narrowing into thin slits as she tried to remember whether or not she saw his face on the big screen before. To be frank, if they weren’t on her list of favorite actors, which comprised mostly of Black and brown men and women then she probably never seen — rather paid attention to — him at all.

Until, suddenly, it hit her. “Hey, aren’t you that racist cop from Detroit?”

Will couldn’t help but let out a mirthless laugh at her statement as the color completely drained from his face.

“Uh...unfortunately yes. Kinda wish you remembered me from a different movie though.”

Mutual anguish clouded EmJaye’s features, and she placed a hand briefly on his knee, startling him. “Sorry,” she whispered, her apology undoubtedly spoken in double meaning.

“S’okay,” said Will, repeating her duosyllabic utterance from earlier, and pairing it with a pearly beam.

EmJaye let out a snort, much to her embarrassment, yet Will took it in stride.

“Is that the only movie you saw me in?” he wondered, his eyebrows furrowing in a combination of fear and worry. “Please don’t ruin my entire acting career by saying yes.”

EmJaye shook her head. “I mean, no...” Her answer sounded more like a question and Will inclined his head. “I don’t know, maybe?”

He covered his face with his hand, eyes gazing at her through the small spaces in between his fingers. “You’re killin’ me, girl,” groaned Will, flashing an attractive moue.

“For all intents and purposes, I am very picky about what I watch,” she countered. “And I’m sure you haven’t heard any of my songs.”

“Bullshit,” Will blatantly stated with a dramatic eye roll. “I know, for a fact,” he paused his tirade briefly to take out his iPhone from his suit jacket’s pocket, “that I have at least one of your songs on my Spotify playlist.”

“Oh, do you now?” she teased in an annoying high-pitched tone, earning a feigned shocked expression from Will. “Wanna make a bet?”

With eyes glimmering with mischief, Will’s wide, dopey smile could easily make the Cheshire Cat envious. “I’m intrigued. What’s your barter?”

“Dinner tonight,” she vocalized simply. “Loser pays for dinner tonight.”

Holy fuck, as if she couldn’t get any better. “At any place?” he questioned and EmJaye nodded, toying temptingly with a tendril of her hair. “Deal.”

His voice was gruff, practically a growl and it made her shiver in excitement.

Will extended a hand for her to shake and she took his hand, watching as her own disappeared into his much larger one. EmJaye felt an electric jolt at the contact, for which she quickly extricated her fingers to cut off the current.

She cleared her throat as she jerked her head in the direction of his phone. “Alright, let’s see.”

Will decided not to broach the subject, and he twiddled on his phone, leaning towards her to show her that he, in fact, had not one but two songs of hers on his Spotify playlist.

EmJaye let out a gasp. “You motherfucker.”

Throwing back his head, Will laughed as soon he heard her inhalation and shifted slightly to place his iPhone back in the safe constraints of his suit jacket's pocket.

"I told you," he added contemptuously once his laughter subsided.

EmJaye couldn't help but grimace at his boyishly handsome, yet annoying smug grin. Will was proud of himself, his wide chest puffed out as if he was a peacock.

She watched in a silent, borderline dissociative state for several beats as Will ran a hand through his hair, his mouth moving fast as he rambled absentmindedly about her music. EmJaye was so enraptured by Will's animated and attractive face that she was unable to pay attention to his rapid-fire questions.

"How do you learn to make beats and stuff? I always wondered how musicians do that," he queried, his eyebrows furrowing together in genuine pique interest.

And for what seems like the third time today, her bubble of random thoughts and distraction popped, eyes wide as she stared blankly at Will. "Huh?"

Will repeated his question, leaning forward to listen closely to her answer or perhaps to get closer to her. Whatever the reason may be, his long legs briefly brushed against hers, sending a tingle down her spine. He crossed his ankles in front of him and comfortably adjusted himself in his seat, his equally long arms now placed around the back of her chair.

For such a tall person, he was rather delicate; his movements were gentle and fluid, methodical in a way. EmJaye was pleased to discover that just as enraptured as she was in her thoughts, Will was just the same when speaking to someone — undoubtedly immersed with every fiber of his being.

"My father and uncles were in a band," revealed EmJaye as she fiddled with her necklace. Will's cerulean blue eyes glowed as if it was a quiet plea for her to continue. "My Uncle Jared mainly taught me about melodies and beats and all of that. He even sang background for some artists in the '80s and '90s."

At this, Will rested his chin on his palm. "Really? For whom?"

Shrugging, EmJaye let out a scoff. "You probably never heard of them. It was mainly R&B artists."

"I love R&B," he mused.

"Even '80s and '90s R&B?," EmJaye quipped, straightening in her seat. "Matter of fact, do you even have anything like that on your Spotify playlist?"

"I have a few." His pearly beam was back in full effect, eyes darkening again with mischief. Drawing nearer, he whispered: "I'm not that White."

That statement caught EmJaye off guard and she exploded in a fit of giggles. "Oh my goodness, Will!"

"What?" he says, holding up his palms in feigning innocence as he tried desperately to stifle his guffaws. Unsurprisingly, a couple of chuckles eventually escaped and they dissolved into a paroxysm of laughter, much to the chagrin of nearby patrons.

"You made it seem as if I had no idea what you're talking about," he finally added after their laughter faded. "So like TLC and Boyz II Men, right?"

"Yes!" piped Emjaye in relief. "New Edition? Jodeci?"

"Yup, yup," nodded Will.

"Yeah, that's my Uncle Jared. After that, he tried to settle into 'normal life'," she paused to dramatically add air quotes and an eye roll, "but the music industry was his life. He somehow found his way to working in A&R for a few record labels, touring around the country for the 'Next Big Thing'".

"And I'm guessing that he found you?" wondered Will.

"Yeah", she answered with a shaky breath. "Uncle Jared always knew that I could sing and enjoy music, but I wanted to become a writer. Music was something of a pipe dream, yet here I am."

Will noticed the subtle shift in her expression. Her face dulled, her shoulders sagging, her arms hugging herself protectively, and her foot began to tap the floor in a nervous fidget.

He knew those signs of anxiety all too well. Hell, in many instances, he mirrored EmJaye. In just a short amount of time of knowing her, he could easily deduce that they were cut from the same cloth.

Empathetically, sadness clouded his features and he placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Are you okay?"

Those simple three words echoed in EmJaye's mind. He was too polite and well-mannered; far from what she was accustomed to from the opposite sex. People rarely ask if she was doing okay anymore and yet this stranger had her on the verge of tears.

I'm such a wuss, she thought. I can barely keep it together.

She pursed her pouty lips. "I'm going to be. The price of fame just doesn't agree with me."

"I can relate," he told her sincerely, forehead creasing. "Pardon me for asking, but is this something that you truly wanted?"

"It is, but I hate what comes with it," EmJaye chuckled bitterly. "The stalking, the paparazzi, using aliases to order food or get hotel rooms because someone might leak it to TMZ. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the experience to perform with artists that I admire or collaborating with them and finally being recognized for all the blood, sweat, and tears I put into my work. I love my fans too, yet at times, I feel like I'm constantly on the go."

"I understand," said Will. "Do you have any breaks coming up? Maybe time to relax and decompress?"

Almost immediately, her face lit up, which made Will equally as happy. "I'm working on my second album, so I have about seven months of downtime. Well, it's not downtime, but I have more free reign. Not as many appearances either. It was kind of a blessing to win a Grammy this year; my team is too busy celebrating the success to worry about making sure I'm getting exposure."

"And congrats by the way," drawled Will, which earned him a perplexed stare from EmJaye. "The Grammy?"

Her daftness made her want to die right there on the spot. "Sorry about that," she said as she massaged her temples. "The jet lag is killing me. I literally got here about three hours ago. I'm a bit slow at the moment."

"No worries." Will shrugged it off effortlessly with a smirk. "I get like that too without my cup of coffee."

Unexpectedly, the lights dimmed and EmJaye jolted at the shock of it all. As if on cue, everyone became eerily silent, shifting their focus to the catwalk. An overhead spotlight turned on, centering on a lone model that stood at the beginning of the runway. A slow, rich rhythm began to play as the model made his way down the runway in succinct strides. Poker-faced with a clenched jaw, he stood still as the many cameramen flooded around the stage to take endless photos. The model remained stoic despite the camera flashes and EmJaye wondered how he could possibly stand there without blinking.

Surely, he must be blinded by the lights?

The fashion show carried on without a hitch. Throughout the show, she felt Will loom closer to her and he whispered every so often about which designs he liked best.

Her heart pounded like a drum each time his breath tickled the skin at the swell of her ear. The booming was incessant and furious, akin to a hummingbird's wings. His deep baritone triggered a primal reaction within her; she felt hot and as though she could combust at any moment.

EmJaye had no idea why she was feeling like this, but there was something about Will that made her feel like a lovestruck teenager. _______________________________________________

Paris Fashion Week always made EmJaye feel like she was herded cattle. Ushered from one show to the next, EmJaye could barely keep up with what was happening. Fortunately for her, today has been easy with just Thom Browne's show to attend, and once it was over, she made a haste exit, with Will in tow of course. As predicted, the evasive paparazzi waited outside, capturing picture after picture of herself and Will, ever the well-mannered gentleman, extended an arm and graciously escorted her down the flight of stairs. Without a doubt, the photos will be sold to the highest bidder, which was usually a salacious tabloid readying for their next click-bait rumor mill article.

"EmJaye! Will! Are you two dating or just friends?!" one shouted at them, making her suck her teeth.

"EmJaye, how does it feel to be dating Marvel's Golden Boy?" another heckled.

"Fucking vultures," she hissed under her breath as she hopped into her waiting black SUV. Will followed suit, thanking her chauffeur as he closed the door behind them.

The car sped off in the direction of her hotel and the ride was still at first, without a single utterance between them. That time allowed EmJaye to gather her bearings and literally let her hair down.

Will spotted her moving figure from his peripheral vision and his eyes darted over to her, watching as her hands raked through her naturally thick hair, her springy coils dancing against the soft skin of her clavicle. Mouth now slightly agape, he studied her with an unwavering focus; eyes glossing over in awe as the sun hit her brown skin in the most astounding, angelic manner known to man.

"Any ideas on where to go for dinner?"

He blinked slowly as he came out of his trance. "Um....yeah, I know this great Thai place near the Eiffel."

"Ooh," she moaned almost wantonly. "I love Thai. Is it Sawadee?"

"Yeah," chuckled Will, his eyes boring into her deeply as if he was looking directly at her soul. "Have you been there before?"

"A few times," admitted EmJaye. "The family that runs it are good people and the food is always top-notch."

Will, a self-professed foodie, nodded in agreement as she described her favorite restaurant meals. He noted that she was more at ease with both him and herself than at the fashion show. She was more secure, solvent, and knew what she wanted.

The car ventured closer to her hotel, and it was then that Will realized that he somehow found his way back to his hotel. Without warning, he averted his gaze to glance out the window to confirm his location.

"Huh, well that's convenient," he says as the car parked at the curb. Her pair of doe-like brown eyes fused with his tempting baby blues. "It seems as though I've found my way back to my hotel too."

EmJaye chuckled softly. "Bullshit. Don't tell me that we're staying in the same hotel?"

"Nah," Will responded as he shook his head. "I'm in the one across the street."

Utterly bewildered, EmJaye took the chance to stare out the window herself. Her eyes darted to her hotel first then across the street to take a look at Will's. "Interesting."

"I know," he said lowly. "I'll make a reservation at Sawadee and I'll meet you out here in about an hour and a half. Sounds good?"

"Yeah." Her lips parted in a warm smile. "It's a date." _______________________________________________

It's a date....it's a date....it's a date

Complemented by the rich timbre of her throaty voice, EmJaye's sensual smile could bring a man to his knees.

And my anxious, socially awkward arse is having a date with her? thought Will in complete disbelief.

Admittedly, he was at an unbelievable stage in his life. With landing a role in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and now being at the mercy of thirst tweets, suffice to say, Will was having some difficulty adjusting to the unwanted attention, especially since he was no longer being ridiculed for his looks. And now, here he was on the cusp of having a first date with one of the most sought-after R&B/Pop artists.

What the fuck was his life?

This will be the time when his close friend and fellow actor, Florence Pugh, would joke that he perhaps girl-bossed a bit too high, or whatever the male version may be. Or maybe he was just a lucky son of a bitch?

Will nodded at the latter option. He was wrapped up in his head, erratic thoughts plaguing his brain, so he started to pace the length of his hotel room. He could barely piece together the memory of entering his hotel, let alone leaving EmJaye's car, and he was surprised that he didn't knock anyone over in his haste. The last thing Will wanted was to act like a complete dipshit around her, and he silently gave himself a pat on the back for doing well thus far.

The question was, however: did he even want to be in a relationship?

Although none of his friends, especially the guys, would openly admit that they enjoy being single, Will had comfort in being left alone to his own devices. Of course, there was a lack of physical and emotional intimacy, yet as he slowly began to learn, there was nothing wrong with being alone. Now, as he approached being thirty years of age, his past relationships and countless sessions with his therapist had taught him to enjoy the little things in life, which has been a previously difficult thing to do. His mental struggles gnawed at him when he was younger, but he now feels refreshed and content in his being. Truth be told, some days are harder than others, which is expected, and Will continues to take it day by day.

Despite this, Will had a desire to get to know EmJaye better. She intrigued him and he found himself hanging onto her every word. Being in a relationship with her may still be out of range or maybe completely off the table, but there wasn't no harm in being just friends, right?

The shrill ringtone of his iPhone snapped him out of his reverie and therefore ceased his pacing. Taking it out, Will immediately accepted the call once he noticed that his best friend, Kola Bokinni, was ringing him.

"Wassup, mate? How's London?" Will greeted, yet Kola had other plans and ignored him.

"Yo, man, why you kept dating that EmJaye singer a secret?" queried Kola in jest.

"Kola, what the fuck are you talking about?" Will was clueless in regards to what his best friend was referring to. "I just met her today at the Thom Browne show."

"Oh," his friend exhaled in fascination. "How was that? Your fit looked sick, man."

Will couldn't help but chuckle at how easily Kola got distracted. "Thanks, mate, but what's all this about me dating EmJaye?"

Putting the call on speaker, Will sat on his hotel bed and tinkered with his phone, listening carefully as Kola vented about paparazzi and rumors.

"They're fuckin' loons, mate, I tell you," Kola complained, earning a mumble of agreement from Will, who was too focused on reserving a table for tonight's date instead of his friend. "Like bro, they out here talkin' about you smashin' her since last year, which is far from the truth."

Well, that got Will's attention. "Wait, what?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "I met her today, like for the first time."

"I know!" Kola exclaimed. "They said that you liked a post on her Instagram and now you've been smashin' her for almost a year. The Daily Mail is wildin'."

Will stared blankly as he searched in his memory to determine if he liked a post of hers on Instagram. The only logical reason was last year's World Mental Health Day and that was because he followed those types of organizations and social media tags. He could remember it clearly now; EmJaye is an ambassador for a nonprofit that focuses on mental health and she was in a campaign for them. Since he doesn't follow that many people on social media, that had to be the instance The Daily Mail was referring to. As ridiculous as this conversation was, it brought up yet another thing he and EmJaye had in common: activism. His attraction to her was enhanced by knowing she was equally passionate about mental health advocacy as he was.

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Will shoved his hair back away from his face and studied his surroundings. When he caught a glance at the clock on the wall, he muttered a curse.

"You alright there?" asked Kola, his voice full of concern and worry.

"Yeah," replied Will quickly. "Coincidently, I have a date with EmJaye and I have about fifteen minutes to get ready to meet her. I have to call you back, mate, sorry."

"You sneaky fucker," teased his best friend, causing Will to laugh. "You scored a fuckin' date after just meeting the girl? Damn, new year new Will, yeah? Alright bro, I'll let you go but you have to promise to ring me once it's over, okay?"

Will's face scrunched up, his nose crinkled in astonishment. "What, Kola, so we can cackle and gossip like schoolgirls?"

"Fuck, yeah," Kola countered with a laugh. "I know you don't usually kiss and tell, but you have to this time. That girl is too bad for you to be a chickenshit and not make a move."

"Kola, you're thinking with your dick," he drawled in a joking manner.

"And you are too."

His best friend's rejoinder made Will's jaw drop and before he could say anything back, the line went dead.

That sonofabitch. Kola was truly something else.

Will jumped off his bed to make a beeline for the adjoining bathroom, removing articles of clothing as quickly as he could to take a quick shower. He scrubbed the afternoon's dirt off his body, submerging himself in as many soap suds as was humanly possible. Afterward, he rinsed himself and repeated the process once more before exiting the shower with a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist. He was grateful that his assistant unpacked most of his belongings earlier that morning and he found an outfit to wear, which consisted of a black T-shirt with matching ripped jeans and a pair of Nike x Travis Scott's Air Max.

Dousing himself with deodorant and Jo Malone cologne, Will took yet another glance at the clock and exhaled a held breath. With five minutes to spare, he grabbed his essentials — keycard, phone, and wallet — before heading downstairs to meet EmJaye.

Will became transfixed by the goddess that stood across the street. Her shoulder-length curly hair held tight corkscrews that framed her round face. With mahogany skin that shimmered beneath the hotel awning's lights, EmJaye wore a yellow mini-dress that boded quite well with her womanly assets.

Her back was to him and when he called out to her, she turned to his direction with yet another one of those sensual smiles.

"Hi, Will," greeted EmJaye in that sexy throaty voice of hers.

He glanced at her with such profound fondness and awe. He was speechless in every aspect one could think of. His mouth fell open, causing her to bite her lower lip nervously.

"Holy shit, you look amazing," Will admired, completely stunned.

"Thanks." She shifted from one foot to the other, swinging her bag to and fro. It was another of her many nervous ticks and Will took notice, offering her a comforting arm.

"You ready to go?" he asks in a low baritone that made her entire being ache in anticipation and need.

She took his arm graciously, clinging on as if it was her lifeline. "Yes."

His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. "Let's head to dinner then."

Draping the city in a casting white glow, the crescent moon illuminated the sky overhead, giving the couple the perfect backdrop as they meandered down the busy Parisian streets to the restaurant close by.

As they walked, a few male onlookers slowed their pace to take furtive glances at EmJaye's long legs, and at that moment, a twinge of pride and protectiveness overtook Will.

Yes, he thought snidely as he glowered at them, she's all mine.

That revelation made him a tad bothered; just an hour ago he was very keen on being strictly platonic.

So much for only being friends.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#will poulter #will poulter x black!ofc #will poulter x black character #will poulter x singer #will poulter fanfiction #Flashin’ Lights In A Midst of Darlin’ Nights #emjayewrites #guardianofthegalaxy3 #adam warlock #will poulter x reader #adam warlock x reader #will poulter imagine #gotg3

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angelicvity · 6 months

Text

paris in the rain, shin yuna x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning: none

a/n: shes so <33

in the enchanting city of paris, yuna and y/n, their hearts intertwined with a deep affection, found themselves embracing the romantic ambiance as they strolled hand in hand through the rainy streets. the soft patter of raindrops overhead created a serene backdrop, perfectly mirroring the tenderness they felt for each other.

as they walked, y/n couldn't help but steal glances at yuna, her heart fluttering with affection. "yuna," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "i can't believe we're here, in this beautiful city, sharing these moments together."

yuna smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling with adoration. "me neither, jagi. being here with you feels like a dream come true."

they continued their leisurely walk, their steps synchronized as they moved in harmony. the city lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a romantic glow that mirrored the love between them.

y/n's heart swelled with emotion. "yuna, anywhere with you feels right," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "being by your side makes every moment special, even in the simplest of settings."

yuna's gaze never wavered from y/n's. "you make me feel like the luckiest person in the world," she replied softly. "being here with you, in the rain, it's like we're in our own little fairytale."

they walked hand in hand, their fingers entwined, as they explored the charming streets of paris. the rain washed away any worries, leaving only a sense of peace and contentment between them.

they found themselves in front of a quaint café, its warm lights inviting them inside. yuna pulled y/n gently towards it, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "let's take shelter from the rain and warm up with a cup of hot chocolate," she suggested.

y/n nodded, their hands still tightly clasped. they entered the café and settled into a cozy corner booth, the ambiance welcoming and comforting. their laughter filled the air as they shared stories and whispered sweet nothings to each other.

as they sipped their hot chocolate, they exchanged loving glances, their eyes speaking volumes of their affection. y/n leaned across the table, her voice filled with adoration. "you know, every moment in your presence is filled with magic and love. it feels like a fairytale."

yuna reached out to caress y/n's cheek, her touch sending shivers down y/n's spine. "you're my everything, y/n. cause anywhere with you feels right. you make every place feel like home."

their conversation continued, filled with laughter, affectionate touches, and heartfelt promises. they lost track of time, blissfully lost in each other's company.

when the rain finally subsided, they left the café, hand in hand, ready to continue their adventure through the streets of paris. the city seemed to come alive, vibrant and welcoming, as if celebrating their love.

as they wandered through the charming streets, y/n couldn't help but lean into yuna's embrace, feeling the warmth and comfort of her presence.

yuna pressed a soft kiss to y/n's lips, their love sealing the moment in time. it was a gentle and passionate kiss that spoke volumes of their affection.

they broke apart, their eyes locked, and shared a tender smile before continuing their journey.

as they walked, a mischievous grin spread across y/n's face. "hey, yuna," she said playfully. "do you remember that time we got caught in the rain and ended up dancing like fools?"

yuna chuckled, a gleam of amusement in her eyes. "how could i forget? we were soaked from head to toe, but we laughed so hard that day."

y/n's laughter filled the air as she mimicked their clumsy dance moves. "we must have looked ridiculous! but it was one of the happiest moments of my life."

yuna joined in the laughter, her heart filled with joy. "yes, it was. and it's moments like those that make our journey together so special."

they continued to share stories of their silly adventures, their laughter intertwining with the sounds of the city. in that moment, they knew that their love was not only deep and passionate but also filled with lightheartedness and joy.

hand in hand, they walked on, their steps light and filled with joy, knowing that as long as they were together, anywhere they found themselves would feel right, just like their own personal paradise—paris in the rain.

#gxg fluff #gxg imagine #kpop gg #gxg #gg imagines #wlw #wlw post #wlw imagine #shin yuna #itzy shin yuna #itzy yuna #yuna x reader #yuna x fem reader #itzy x reader #itzy x you #itzy x yn #itzy imagines

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ggomos-maribat · 7 months

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4 | about the Paris Mademoiselle

Part 4 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

After hearing out Adrien's suggestion on where to have a meal, Tim and Jason ended up in the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Might as well check out where she lived, right? Tim looked around the homey place as the overhead bell chimed behind them. It was small, simple: glass cases enclosing an assortment of doughnuts, croissants, danishes, eclairs, cookies, pies, and even single-tiered cakes. There was a tip jar next to the register labeled with a cute scribble, positioned next to a statuette of the Eiffel. Warm scents wafted from the kitchen at the back, and Tim could even pick up the faint smell of caffeine from the coffee-making station.

He and Jason took their seats near the register, allowing Tim to peer at the picture frames hung up on the wall. Though most of the photos were mundane, one stood out at the center: a picture of Marinette standing behind the counter, dressed in an apron and a bright grin.

"You're still not allowed to drink coffee," Jason said suddenly.

"I wasn't going to." He rolled his eyes.

From looking around, there didn't seem to be too many 'hints' of Marinette around aside from the photos. The place seemed moderately busy, with a short-haired woman—Sabine Cheng perhaps?—manning the register.

Tim lined up behind two women pointing at the pastries. The blonde one wearing a blue dress pointed at the glass. "Hey, those pink macarons! Weren't they her favorite?"

The other woman, cropped pixie cut, elbowed her companion, hissing, "Rory!"

Then, she turned to Sabine Cheng, "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Cheng."

"It's quite alright, dears." There was a fond sparkle on the eyes of the older woman. "You're right, those macarons were her favorite."

Tim and Jason shared a look. 'Her' . . . did that mean Marinette? Quickly, he took his phone out to make a quick profile search—the two customers turned out to be former students of Francois Dupont, but not part of Marinette's class: Mireille Caquet and Aurore Beauréal. Both were based outside of Paris but still within Europe, and seemed to be back in the city for a brief visit.

"We'll take those macarons, Mrs. Cheng." Aurore smiled apologetically. "And two coffees, please."

"Of course. It's on the house, girls."

Mireille paused from reaching for her wallet. "No, you don't have to!"

"I insist. You're only here for a few days, yes? Consider it a welcome back home."

After the girls politely extended their thanks, Tim ordered lunch for himself and Jason, whilst paying close attention to the macaron selection. Pink strawberry macarons, huh? He thought. That does suit her.

He lent Jason his phone for him to take a look at his brief research about the two women. "They knew her, I think." Tim stole a glance at the next table. "Not very close, but she helped them out during their reporter gigs."

"There's nothing out of place around here," Jason commented as he idly read over the profiles.

"One camera pointing at the front door, and one at the back door. There are barely any blind spots, but if she did slip past surveillance, the streets on the way to bridge should've caught her at least." Tim's expression twisted.

"Tampering?"

"Doubt it. It doesn't look edited." Tim shrugged. "I asked Babs to be sure and she says so."

He took out the small wrinkled list from his pocket and cleanly crossed out Adrien's name. Can we ask those two women? It didn't feel right interrogating them out of the blue, especially when they were in Marinette's family bakery, with her mother close by. Still, it was an opportunity for them.

Jason even looked like he was ready to ask.

"Jay, come on, we have to think this through."

"Dickie would ask if he were here."

"Dick's a smooth-talker. We're not."

Jason tilted his head. "We have Adrien's excuse."

"Er, hello? It's still bad timing."

"Fine. Let's just go over what we have then."

"She was bullied, even though the school records said otherwise; she was involved in multiple extracurriculars; and according to both her friend and parents, she wasn't acting odd before her death," Tim listed off from the top of his head.

"If she wanted to expose Lilia, then . . . isn't that a motive?"

How much of that conflict could've elevated into murder? Tim couldn't piece it together. He didn't want to rule out everything else just because Lilia Ross was so easy to accuse. "Tricky part is that Lilia actually has an alibi that time."

Jason's eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Two years ago, she was just starting things out with her brand and during the week Marinette died, she was on another part of France, having product meetings with her suppliers." And that alibi was airtight.

"Okay, fine, let's back up. The rest of the class was on Lila's side. Is it possible that it was any of them?" Jason suggested.

"They don't exactly have alibis, but I can't track down where exactly each of them were on that day either." Tim glanced at the other table, where Sabine Cheng served the girls their orders, plus free croissants as well. "And going back to the details of it, could they have pulled off something as—er—clean of evidence as that?"

"A lot of them are rich kids, you know."

"Fine, then say we suspect someone else in their class, do you really think any of them would have the heart to do . . . that to their classmate?"

"Who else could've had a vendetta against her?

One name occurred in Tim's mind, a flash of dark purple and gentle wings. He hesitated a little before saying, "Hawkmoth."

"Hawkmoth?"

"That's the only one I can think of, okay!" Tim shifted in his seat, and then lowered his voice. "Apart from Adrien, Marinette had been the only one to never have been akumatized in their class. That kind of strength to resist akumas is something Hawkmoth would prey on."

"I think you overlooked one problem here, Timbers." Jason looked unimpressed. "Hawkmoth was defeated five months before she died. Ladybug herself said that his Miraculous was taken from him."

"I don't know, maybe he's still a powerful person behind the mask. Or like, it was an accomplice."

It was tricky that Hawkmoth's real identity wasn't ever revealed despite his defeat. It caused quite an uproar within Paris, but Ladybug was set on that decision. As for the reason, all Tim could think of is that the heroes were trying to avoid backlash on whoever was close to the 'real' Hawkmoth.

"You're saying he was fixated on this one girl he can't akumatize?" asked Jason.

"Are you saying that your theory is more likely?" Tim retorted back.

"I'm saying we need so much more evidence to figure this thing out."

Tim sighed audibly. It was true that they were fully basing their guesses on speculations. If they could dig a little bit deeper, they should find a clue that leads to the truth.

"Monsieurs."

Tim stiffened all over in just a span of a second. Were we too loud? When he looked up, both Aurore and Mireille were standing by their table. He quickly checked if Sabine Cheng had heard anything, but she seemed preoccupied with the pastries, fortunately.

"Were you talking about . . ." Aurore whispered. "Marinette?"

"No," Tim lamely replied.

Mireille crossed her arms. "You were. We heard. What is going on?"

"There has been an anonymous request to reopen the investigation," Jason lied smoothly, eyes flickering over to the counter. "But you must understand that her parents are not to be involved."

"What is the reason for this 'reopening'?"

Before Tim or Jason could say anything, Aurore spoke: "Lila. It's Lilia Ross, isn't it?"

"We're not on her side, if that's what you're thinking," said Tim hastily. "Maybe there's something you know?"

Both girls looked at each other, as if sharing a silent conversation. Then, Mireille answered morosely, "We wish we knew more. We couldn't pry into it because she closed herself off from us—even Marc Anciel, one of our common friends."

"Did you know what Lilia Ross did to her?"

"We saw what she did," Aurore said bitterly. "Poor Mari couldn't even catch a break; she was never herself anymore."

"We could've done more," Mireille mumbled. "We tried looking for more information about her death but . . . there's nothing. We even asked Monsieur Raincomprix—that's the father of one of our schoolmates, he was part of the investigation team—and he never said a word."

Aurore nodded, "No one from the police disclosed it."

"Why did they leave the case?" Tim asked. "Did her parents ask . . .?"

Yet again, the two shared a look before Aurore said, "There was someone who asked for the investigation to be closed. Her parents had no choice but to consent to it."

"There was someone pulling the strings from behind?" Jason frowned.

Mireille pinched the bridge of her nose. "Looked like it. That's the only thing we know." She heaved out a sigh. "Actually . . . there is one person who might know or has the means to find out. We can't approach them because, well, it is simply too awkward but maybe the two of you will have more luck. She actually flew over from New York yesterday."

"Who?" Tim leaned in.

"The editor-in-chief of Paris Mademoiselle, Chloe Bourgeois."

***

"What's CEO Timothy Drake-Wayne doing investigating the death of a French teenager?"

Tim internally winced, not anticipating that Chloe Bourgeois had recognized him. The blonde had surprisingly let them into her office (which was also surprisingly extremely messy) next to Le Grand Paris Hotel. Their encounter reminded Tim of a principal's confrontation with students—Chloe's eyes were unwaveringly cold towards them.

"He's just tagging along for my case." Jason brandished a fake ID, naming himself as a private consultant. "We're here at an anonymous request to re-investigate the incident. We want to ask you about Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Who requested it?"

"We can't say—"

"Was it Adrien?"

Jason shook his head calmly. "We can't disclose any details."

Chloe sighed in exasperation. Like with Adrien, the exhaustion behind her face but she hid it more loosely. Even deeper than that, Tim saw fatigue, restlessness, jetlag, a hint of sadness.

"She was my classmate," Chloe began. "Well, I think she should be more than that to me. I've known her since kindergarten. She was always top of the class, all smiles, kind to a fault, so much of a klutz, habitually late . . ." She paused. "I was just her bully."

She has that deep faraway gaze. If there was anyone who didn't bother to hide the hurt from losing Marinette, it was her. Chloe Bourgeois. "I've known her since kindergarten but we were never friends. It's my petty jealousy's fault, I don't know. Even if I mocked her so many times, she always fought back in some way. She had such a sharp tongue. She despised me as much as I despised her.

"Did you know she had a crush on Adrien? I bet you didn't. It was embarrassingly massive that she'd trip all over the place. I'd pick on her about it." She fiddled with a button on her blazer. "The crush mellowed out over time but—but everything about her mellowed out so much. I don't know why I did anything but I asked my Dad how she died. No matter how much I begged, he said 'his hands were tied'. Believe me, my father always gave anything I asked.

"You won't believe how devastated everyone was when she was gone. My dad cried. Hell, my mother shed a tear. Andre the ice cream man cried. Nadja Chamack broke down on live TV. Everyone outside our class cried. Her friends who abandoned her had the audacity to fucking cry. It was like the whole city was grieving. You know why? Because Hawkmoth was already gone at that time. Everyone thought it was finally our time to heal but nooo, they didn't see how much it took a toll on those who barely kept it together the whole time.

"Marinette was never akumatized. She's been targeted by so many akumas, had so much done to her but I never once saw her break. Not even close. Of course she wasn't fucking okay enduring all of that. Of course I had to be the idiot who never tried to apologize to her," Chloe spat out. "There. There's my statement."

Tim felt so pinned down by her gaze. The irony . . . it was Chloe who talked more about her than Adrien.

Jason cleared his throat. "There's one more thing. Lilia Ross—"

"Lila?" She sneered. "No, don't get me started on her. You should be smarter than believing that stupid act she puts on."

"Did her transfer . . . change Marinette somehow?"

"Uh, yeah! She practically lost all her friends," she scoffed. "I'd say everything was going downhill at about Quatriéme, but steeply when Lila showed up."

"Why? What was in Quatriéme?"

Chloe raised a judgmental eyebrow.

"When Hawkmoth first showed up," Tim mumbled. "Did you collect other evidence aside from asking your father? Didn't you ever want to know why?"

"It's useless. I have other things taking up my time right now." But in Chloe's eyes, Tim could clearly see that she wanted to know. Desperately.

"Besides," Chloe added, "My dad's not mayor anymore. I can't exactly pull any strings."

"Do you know anyone else we can ask?" Jason questioned.

"Not really." Her voice turned soft. "I'm not in close contact with anyone anymore. But there's something I've been wondering about myself, and maybe you can look into it."

Chloe reached up to rub her shoulder. "Those rumors online about Lila. They turned up out of the blue, didn't they? Now, who's exactly behind all of that?"

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#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #character death #major character death #angst #MDC is Dead #dc x miraculous #tw mentions of suicide #tw mention of death #if youve asked to be tagged before and I haven't tagged you please let me know!!

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