#i’ve watched this one thousand times today and i’ll watch it again!!!!!

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come Morning Light

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta spend a lazy day together, baking bread and drawing. takes place after first games before cf

After learning from Effie that you had a rare day off, you made your way over to Peeta’s house in the Victors Village. Things had been weird between you since returning from the games and you wanted a chance to spend some time with him to settle things. You knocked on his door and when you found it open, you made your way inside.

“Oh. Hey.” He smiled when you found him in his kitchen.

“Hey. Did I hear correctly that we actually have the day off?”

“We do. And Effie made it very clear we’re not getting another one anytime soon. So we better enjoy it.”

“How are you gonna spend it?” You asked as you leaned against his kitchen table.

“I’m just gonna bake some bread and watch the rain. All boring stuff.” Peeta said with a soft smile. Peeta thought you would leave after that, but you didn’t budge.

“Why? What were you gonna do?” He asked curiously.

“Bother you.” You shrugged with a coy smile. Peeta returned the smile when he realized you wanted to hang out but didn’t know how to ask.

“Impossible. You never bother me.” He declared.

“Never? Even after all the times I’ve woken you up screaming?”

“No. Because when I hear screaming, I know that means I get to hold you. So no, you’re never a bother.” Peeta said as if it were the most simple thing in the world. You looked down to hide the smile that he always managed to put on your face. He could never know how much you missed that reassurance that he would always be there for you when you had your nightmares.

“You know, Haymitch once told me I could live a thousand lives and never deserve you.” You told him.

“Oh, did he?” Peeta smirked and folded his arms.

“I think it may have been one of the rare times he was right about something.” You said playfully. Peeta felt ecstatic to hear you say this, but played it cool.

“Well. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” He replied. You smiled at him before going over to where he had his baking supplies set up.

“So what kind of bread are we making today?” You asked as you picked up his apron. He playfully snatched it from you and tied it around it waist. You pretended to be offended for a second, but he was quick to provide you with a matching apron. You didn’t know why he had two if he lived alone, but you didn’t question it. You just held out hope that maybe it was for you.

“I’m making challah bread. You can just sit there and look pretty.” Peeta nodded towards his kitchen table as he tied your apron around your waist.

“Peeta, I won the Hunger Games with nothing but a bow and some berries. What makes you think I can’t make bread?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I know you can’t make bread.” He insisted. “And I know that because before you win the game, you fed me disgusting soup.”

“You said you liked my cave soup.” You gasped.

“I was trying to spare your feelings.” He said with a cheeky smile. You pretended to be offended again and threw some flour at his face.

“Wow, Peeta. Next time you get injured, don’t come to me for help.”

“Well I definitely won’t come to you for food.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. You gasped and tried to throw more flour at him but he caught your wrist and spun you around. You smiled at the gesture before playfully shoving him away.

“Please let me help. I’ll do better then the cave soup. I promise.”

“Fine. You can mix this.” Peeta said as he poured two cups of something into a mixing bowl and handed it to you. You smiled proudly and mixed the contents of the bowl with a wooden spatula.

“Is this important? Am I being helpful?” You asked as you mixed.

“No. That was just two cups of flour. You didn’t actually mix anything.” Peeta admitted. You looked up at him in surprise and he was armed and ready with a handful of flour. He tossed it at your face and laughed as you coughed.

“Peeta. Let me help.” You whined as you cleaned your face.

“Just leave the baking to the baker, all right? I don’t show up in the woods and try to hunt.” He teased as he folded some eggs into his dough.

You watched him expertly mix the dough until a light and fluffy consistency was left in the bowl. You couldn’t help but admire the way he worked, moving as if with muscle memory. To get a better look, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. Peeta stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into you.

“There’s no cameras in here, you know. You don’t have to pretend.” He said quietly. You were surprised by this comment and pressed your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not pretending anything.” You told him. “I just wanted to hold you.”

“So you’re not acting? You really want to help me bake bread?” Peeta asked skeptically as he turned around in your arms. You toyed with the strings of his apron for a second before looking up into his eyes.

“I really do.” You answered honestly. “We never get to do anything normal together. I just wanted one day where we can just be us.”

Peeta stared into your eyes for a while as he tried to decide whether he should believe you or not. He so badly wanted to, but could never fully let his guard down around you after you revealed the way you acted in the first games was partially an act.

“Okay. Come here. We have to knead the bread.” Peeta said once he decided he was satisfied with your answer. He pulled you by the hand and placed you in front of him before wrapping both arms around you.

“Oh no.” You chuckled dryly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Oh yes. I’m a romantic. This is how we teach.” Peeta said as he put his hands over yours and began to knead the bread. You had seen this scene play out in old romantic movies that sometimes played on your TV and you knew Peeta must’ve seen them too. It was stupid, but it made you feel good inside.

“Do you teach everyone to knead bread like this?” You looked over your shoulder to question him.

“I don’t exactly go around teaching people how to make bread.” Peeta chuckled.

“Oh. I must be special then.” You smiled coyly and made eye contact with him over your shoulder. He was so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and it sent tingles down your spine.

“Must be.” Peeta mumbled in your ear. You gulped and felt your face heat up, feeling grateful Peeta was behind you so he couldn’t see what he was doing to you. He continued to use his strong hands to make yours knead the bread.

“I hate the way this feels.” You said to break the silence.

“Then you’re gonna hate to hear that we have to do this for at least ten minutes.” Peeta laughed as you groaned.

“Peeta.” You whined but didn’t try to stop.

“You’re the one who wanted to stay and make bread. You could’ve run off into the forest to hunt with Gale, but you chose to spend your day off with me.” He reminded you.

“You’re right. I did.” You agreed with him as you squished the bread between your fingers.

“Where is Gale, anyway?” Peeta asked, and you could tell his intentions no matter how cool he tried to play it. He wanted to know if you were only with him today because Gale was busy.

“Probably at the Hob or something.” You shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

“You don’t know where he is? Aren’t you guys always together?”

“Not always. I’m with you.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him. Peeta smiled timidly as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re with me?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I’m with you.” You smiled at him before returned your attention to the bread.

“I can’t help but wonder for how long.” Peeta said softly. There was no self-pity in his voice, just an honest expression. You stared into the dough and felt guilty pile up in your stomach.

“I know it’s confusing. I know I’m confusing. I wish I had more answers to give you.” You said quietly without looking at him.

“It’s okay. I’m happy just doing this.” Peeta answered honestly.

“So am I.” You realized and leaned back into him.

You continued to knead the bread in comfortable silence as a gentle rain patter hit the windows. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, peace only Peeta could give you.

“Is it done yet because it’s seriously grossing me out.” You said after a minute of the silence.

“It’s done.” Peeta chuckled. “You’re free.”

You slipped your hands out of his and quickly ran to the sink to rinse them.

“Ew, ew, ew.” You grimaced as you cleaned your hands. “That was grosser than when I had to clean out your leg wound.”

“Really? This is more disgusting than that?” Peeta laughed in surprise.

“Yes. I don’t know how you do it.” You stuck your tongue out as you dried your hands.

“I’m a baker. It’s my passion. I don’t know how you skin animals and don’t throw up.” Peeta remarked as he tossed the dough around a little and worked his hands into it. You shamelessly watched him do this for a second before snapping out of it.

“I’m a hunter. It’s my passion.” You humored him. Peeta looked at you fondly as he let out a laugh.

“You’re funny when you want to be.” He remarked as he put the loaf in the oven.

“Not you, though. You’re always funny. Even in the most life threatening situations, you’ve still made me laugh. And nobody can make me laugh.”

“I’ve noticed that. That nobody else can do it. Maybe that’s why I try so hard to be the one who can.” He admitted as he stared at you with that ever present fondness.

“Well it works.” You shrugged and held his gaze. You stared at each other for a moment before looking away in embarrassment.

“So how long does that bake for?” You asked him.

“30 minutes. Then we test it to see if it’s risen.”

“Hm. What should we do for the next 30 minutes?”

“Actually, there is something I’ve always wanted to do.” Peeta said with a timid smile.

“Uh oh. What’s that?” You asked coyly.

“Draw you. If that’s okay.”

“Haven’t you drawn me before?” You asked, knowing you’d caught glimpses of his sketches every now and then.

“Yes. But they’re all side profiles because I draw you when you aren’t looking. I want one of you facing front.”

“Okay.” You agreed as your face heated up from the request. Peeta grinned and went to grab his sketchbook as you sat on his couch. You felt the almost untouched furniture and felt sad that he lived in this great big house all by himself. When he came back, he positioned himself across from you and looked up eagerly.

“How should I pose?” You asked and raised your arms in a dramatic way you’d seen people in The Capital pose.

“Just relax. Sit how you would normally sit.” Peeta chuckled and began to sketch out your face.

“Well I don’t remember how to do that anymore.” You realized as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

“Then just pick a way to sit and stay like that.” Peeta laughed again. You obliged and relaxed into his couch as you stared at him. He sketched the outline of your head while you studied his face closely. The sun was beginning to dim below the horizon, making Peeta’s foyer his favorite color, a soft orange. The way the light hit him made his blonde hair and eyelashes appear golden.

“Your eyelashes are so blond.” You commented without thinking.

“What?” Peeta looked up as his entire face turned red.

“I’ve never noticed that before. They’re so blond and shiny. They look almost golden from here. Like Effie’s hair.”

“This place gets really good lighting. It’s a shame I’m the only one who knows that.” Peeta said with a sad smile.

“Now you’re one of two who knows.” You replied, making his smile go from sad to lovelorn.

“That’s true.” He said softly. You exchanged a smile before he went back to drawing you. You felt like you were spying on him from his closely you were watching him but you never got to see him this peaceful. You studied the way his hands moved around his sketchbook and admired how they somehow knew exactly where to go.

“What are you staring at?” Peeta asked, catching you in the act. You gulped and knew you were caught, so you just came clean.

“Your hands.” You admitted and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Why?” He asked, face still in a rose blush.

“I can’t talk. I’m posing.” You said in an attempt to change the subject with a joke.

“You’re all done posing, actually. Come take a look.” Peeta said. You got up from your couch and leaned over him to look at what he had drawn. On his sketch pad was a perfect little charcoal drawing of you. You hadn’t posed for him yet he managed to perfectly capture your most neutral expression. You knew he most likely drew it from memory since you were definitely no help while posing.

“Peeta. That’s beautiful.” You gasped and looked into his eyes. Peeta looked up at you as you leaned over him and blinked slowly.

“Yeah. You are.” He spoke softly. You looked into Peeta’s eyes before letting your gaze drop down to his lips. Before you could psych yourself out, you leaned down to kiss him. Your lips had merely brushed his when the timer went off, making you jump at the sound.

“The bread is-“

Peeta cut your sentence off by tilting his chin the rest of the way up to kiss you. He sat up on his knees and slipped a hand behind your head to properly kiss you as the timer continued to go off in the background. When he pulled away, you were left breathless while he moved some hair off your forehead.

“Sorry. I wasn’t about to miss out on that kiss for bread.” Peeta smirked as he got off the couch. You watched him walk back into the kitchen and touched your fingertips to your lips. You were still buzzing from the kiss as you walked into the kitchen.

“It smells amazing. I can’t wait to try it.” You smiled politely while Peeta took the bread out of the oven. Once it cooled, you took a knife and went to cut into it.

“Woah woah, what are you doing?” Peeta stopped you.

“Cutting the bread?”

“You can’t just hack into it. There is an art to cutting bread, my dear. Here. Let me show you.” Peeta said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind again.

“Oh boy. Here we go.” You playfully rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

“It’s like this. Yeah?” He said into your ear. You stayed silent as you watched his hands work over yours to cut the bread into perfect diagonal slices.

“You staring at my hands again?” He asked suddenly, making you freeze.

“Maybe.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” He chuckled softly in your ear.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just like them and can’t really explain why.”

“I know the feeling.” He whispered in your ear after a beat of silence. Peeta let go of one of your hands and used it to touch your side braid.

“Your braid is on a different side today.”

“Oh. Yeah. It is.” You gulped as he toyed with the end of your braid. His hand moved to your shoulder as he placed a kiss on the side of your neck that your braid wasn’t on. It sent shivers down your spine and you didn’t want him to stop.

“I like it.” He whispered against your skin and placed another kiss on your neck.

“You noticed that it was different?” You asked as you turned around in his arms.

“I notice everything about you.” Peeta said simply. You looked into his eyes and smiled before taking hand hand. You brought two prices of bread over to his front door and opened it. You sat across from each other and watched the late afternoon rain that drizzled through the dimming sunshine. You bit into the warm bread and listened the rain falling while Peeta just watched you. When you noticed him staring, you gave him a pointed look and nudged his shoe with your foot.

“You know, Effie told me there’s a stove on the train.” You told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can show me how to make cake tomorrow?” You asked, making Peeta’s smile grow.

“Sure.” He nodded. “Anything you want.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #Peeta mellark fanfic #Peeta mellark fanfiction #Peeta mellark x you #Peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark

[brnesblogposts]

bucky barnes what a man

bucky barnes fic i had no idea what to name it but yeah

bucky barnes x gn ¡ neurodivergent reader

warnings: none! there’s no use of y/n or any gender or racial descriptors of any kind so this can be read by anyone! if i’ve made any mistakes please let me know! but this is safe to read no matter your identity :)

——————————————————————

Bucky was sat on the couch opposite you glaring broodingly into the distance, you stared back at him hoping to catch his attention but didn’t have any luck as he continued to have the thousand yard stare, he was in his head most likely which is not good.

“What’s up sunshine?” You broke the silence, Bucky simply shrugged and then got up and walked away. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong, you wanted to be able to help. Quickly getting up and catching up with him you ask “what’s got your panties in a twist?” To which he says “it’s nothing” you don’t buy it — “are you sure” furrowing your brows, but you know Bucky isn’t one to talk about his feelings unless it’s with his therapist so your hopes aren’t held high that he’ll tell you what’s bothering him.

Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder you say “If you change your mind and want to talk about it, you know where to find me.” Your words sincere, he nods and responds with a quiet “I know” before wondering off again. After that you go about your day and are sure Bucky goes about his and your paths don’t cross again. As you’re on your way to your room you pass Natasha, “hey, Nat?” Your voice quiet “You okay, sweetheart?” She scans your features, “i’m okay” you reassure her “do you know what’s up with Buck?” Natasha informs you that “he’s in a mood today” and you nod understandingly, “just give him some space and i’m sure he’ll be okay, he’ll come round eventually.” She smiles and strokes your cheek before excusing herself and you continue to your room.

——

Lego batman is playing on your tv while you lay on your bed both laughing at the movie but also thinking about Bucky and hoping he’s okay. A faint knock on your door catches your attention as you hear a familiar voice say your name on the other side “Bucky?” You respond and a few moments later he’s opening your door and walking into your room. There’s a look of worry on his face as he speaks “Can I talk to you for a second?” You nod and pat the place next to you on your bed signalling Bucky to sit, which he does.

Bucky takes a deep breath “I just want to apologise for being distant and a moody broody ass,” he looks down at your comforter and he speaks, you reach out and put your hand over his “That’s okay, we all have our days.” He looks up now to see a soft reassuring smile gracing your face “Thanks, I just had a bit of a rough day but i’ll be alright, i’m okay.” He is reassuring you all of a sudden and you just want to hug him, you meet his eyes for a couple of seconds before looking down at where your hand covers his;

“You don't need to lie to me, it's okay to not be okay. You of all people have every right to feel the way you do, with everything you've been through. You're a survivor and a warrior and it's normal to have rough days. There's no need to apologise for feeling down, your feelings are valid” You squeeze his hand. You look up a little to see he’s now smiling softly “thank you. It’s just I had a few flashbacks to my time at HYDRA, it’s kind of hard to shake those feelings that arise when i’m reminded of that time in my life.” He glares at the ground as he gets what has been bugging him off of his chest, “sorry to hear that Buck.” You’re squeezing his hand again “hey do you want to hang out and watch the rest of this movie with me?” He takes a second before nodding as you shuffle along your bed to allow him to lay down, he does so and you automatically nuzzle into him and he wraps his arms around you while leaning his chin on your head.

“You ever seen lego batman?” You ask from your place beside him he announces“I have not.” At this you sit up and gasp “Your life is about to change for the better.” He laughs at your dramatics and motions for you to lay back down “I’m excited now so hurry up and press play!” He teases.

Everytime he hears you laugh at the movie a warmth spreads in his chest and he can’t help but smile and laugh along with you, he can see why you like this movie it’s right up your alley. You absentmindedly start playing with the hem of his shirt, using it to stim, at this Bucky smiles admirably at you “You’re cute when you stim” He practically whispers not wanting to disrupt the movie too much. He feels you move to hide your face in his side and can’t help but smile, he plays with your hair “Nothing to be embarrassed about, doll, it’s cute” He states matter-o-factly placing a kiss on the top of your head. You whisper a thanks and continue to hide as a blush takes over your face “I love you, you know that right?” He’s still playing with you hair until you sit up a little “I love you too, Buck” You smile. Nuzzling back into his side a thought pops into your head “Hey, Buck?” You ask inquisitively “Yeah, dollface?” He responds enthusiastically “would you still love me if I was a worm?” You’re playing with the hem of his shirt again as a light laugh escapes him “Yeah,” he kisses your temple and you smile “why?” He asks “just curious” you shrug. Bucky smiles again “I love you whether you're a worm, or a squirrel, or even if you're an inanimate brick.” At this a grin breaks out on your face as you sit up and respond “as i would with you!” He cups your face “awww thanks, gorgeous,” this time his thumb is stroking your cheek as his hand cups your jaw so you can’t hide the blush that creeps up your neck, Bucky loves making you flustered and only smirks at your reaction. You slap his hand away and lightheartedly say “Shut up” which only earns you a whole hearted laugh from the man next to you as he puts his arm out for you to lay back down.

A little while later you let out a yawn and burrow into Bucky even further, he’s like a human furnace. He moves the hair out of your face with his cool metal hand “you tired, angel?” You can only mumble an “Mhmm” as speaking would be too much energy, “go to sleep then, sweetheart. i’ll be right here when you wake up” Once again a kiss is placed on your forehead as sleep takes over and Bucky watches you for a few moments smiling at your soft features and the little sounds you make as you sleep before he closes his eyes too.

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reblogs appreciated !

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfiction

[sinswithpleasure]

I Double Fucking Dare You (ft. TWICE's Chaeyoung)

—--------

One night only return from the dead comes my TWICE writing juice

This will not be regular.

—---------

"So you're the photographer."

You look up from fiddling with your camera into the eyes of TWICE's Son Chaeyoung, the model for today. She's already dressed in her outfit for the shoot—Calvin Klein white sports bra and black shorts, paired with CK socks and shoes of the same color as her bra, with a large jacket over her body, left open, and the hood over her blonde locks. She reaches out her hand. 

"I'm Chaeyoung, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, I'm Youngjin."

You return the handshake firmly. Chaeyoung's lips curl up into a small grin, and you return it to her before you place your attention on your camera again. Chaeyoung watches as you make your last minute adjustments, her right shoulder against the wall as she leans against the surface. You look up to her once more, your eyes meeting hers. 

"Is there something wrong, Miss Son?"

"Oh, no. Just wondering if you were free right now."

"Yeah, we have forty minutes before the shoot, what's up?"

"Could you help me take a few pics for my Instagram?"

—---

Chaeyoung leads you round the corner to her dressing room, which is empty. She passes you her phone and directs you to kneel at a spot on the floor. She sits down and begins to pose with the jacket off her shoulders, her stare right into the lens. You move into work mode and begin snapping pictures, occasionally changing locations and poses. You use the couch, the fake wall of a makeshift changing cubicle, and even the tiled walls of the room, either directing Chaeyoung through a few poses or her directing you on the angles she wants.

"Wow, these are really nice! Thanks, Youngjin."

"No problem, Miss Son."

"Just Chaeyoung is fine, Youngjin."

She swipes through the photos one more time, and you prepare to head back. Your camera sits on one of the desks, and when you reach for it, Chaeyoung grabs you by the wrist. 

"Youngjin."

"Yes, Chaeyoung?"

"How about a few more pics?"

You start to retract your hand from your camera when Chaeyoung interrupts.

"Use the camera."

Hm…?

"I'll pay you a lot for this one, but you have to keep it secret."

One glance on your watch shows thirty minutes to the shoot. What does she want?

"What do you want me to do, Chaeyoung?"

"Let's do a more risque shoot. This is just for me. And you, I guess."

Hmm, risque? How risque? You wonder what the veteran idol is getting at. 

Chaeyoung responds by pulling one strap of her bra off her shoulder. She motions for you to pick up the camera. 

"Wait. You still haven't told me what we're doing."

"Thirty minutes, right? Let's just stay here and take a few photos of me in various states of undress. I've always wanted to be a nude model, but in a mix of artsy yet pornographic style. I know it's not something an idol should be doing, but the artist in me wants to try."

You hum in contemplation, both as an artist and a hormonal man. It wasn't every day a woman, let alone one of the most popular idols of this generation, proposes a secret nude photoshoot. While her reasoning wasn't something unique—you have other friends in the field that've done the same thing—you respect the courage to try asking. 

"I'll pay you ten thousand straight. If you do well, there might be more."

Well, shit. That's more than enough money for you to nod already, considering who was the one asking. 

—---

Chaeyoung has a clear vision in mind, and with her clear instructions, you make quick work of the angles and shots you take. The first shot has Chaeyoung's bra strap and jacket off her shoulder, a seductive gaze leveled right into the lens. A few more shots later, Chaeyoung's bra is off, held in her hand as she holds an unlit cigarette in the other, courtesy of you. She glares into the camera with confidence, which both speaks right to your artist's heart, and shamefully, your horny side. You can't help but snap a few shots of her torso and the cigarette in frame as well when the opportunity arises—you feel like it had potential. 

"I like it, Youngjin. Keep it up."

Chaeyoung pats you on the back, and you grin. You take the chance to check out her body for a bit when she leans over to monitor the other shots. She looks up at you, and she smirks when your eyes dart up to meet hers. A flash of panic at being caught shoots through your veins, but you try to conceal it. 

"Let's move on."

Chaeyoung's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you stare as she pushes her shorts off her hips. The now nude idol kicks the clothing aside, and she pulls the jacket off her body to wrap around her forearms and waist, the cloth falling over her plump ass and concealing it from sight. She stands facing a mirror, her hair covering her face, and you take position right behind her, where her reflection lines up with her body, and take the shot. She then takes one arm out of the jacket, and the other side hanging off her shoulder. Chaeyoung turns her head to the left, her side face impassive, and that's your cue to capture her image. Another shot has her holding the jacket up with one finger to her right, the cigarette between her teeth as she leans against the wall with one foot planted on the wall, the other supporting her weight, all while facing the lens. She ends with a couple of shots of her on the couch with the jacket on but open, sitting in various positions that would surely get the disapproval of many for being "unladylike". The camera captures every inch of her body, the unblinking eye of the lens burning each and every pixel into memory. This shoot is just as quick as the one earlier.

"Good job, Youngjin. You knew exactly what I wanted."

Chaeyoung clicks through the many shots you've taken throughout the ten minutes that've elapsed. She doesn't move to put on her clothing at all—she lounges on the couch just scrolling through the shots, and then she returns the camera. 

"One more thing.

"You've impressed me with these shots, as I knew you would. I've checked your portfolio, Youngjin, and I knew this is the quality I would get out of it.

"We should discuss the reward part a little more, shouldn't we? The ten thousand still remains on the table, but I'm going to sweeten the pot for the both of us.

"We have twenty minutes left, and I know you're attracted to me. We're alone in a room, one man and one woman, and I'm naked. I think you know what happens."

Chaeyoung stands up and takes a step towards you. Her body is dangerously close to yours, as are her lips. You can even feel the hot breath that brushes against your own lips when she speaks.

"I'll let you fuck me right now."

She continues on right through your shock and arousal.

"I've set the camera to video mode. Put it somewhere good and start recording us. I want a copy of it when we're done, together with all of the photos. You can keep a copy too, so you can jerk off to me whenever you want.

"What do you say, Youngjin? Wanna make a sex tape with TWICE's Son Chaeyoung?

You must have hesitated for a bit.

"I fucking dare you, Youngjin. I double fucking dare you."

You can't say no, and neither would you, now that she's challenging you. Your eyes dart around the room for a good spot, and you catch it—the desk next to you has a good view of both the couch and the empty space next to it. You rush to set it up, and you turn back to Chaeyoung while tugging your own shirt off. The satisfactory smirk Chaeyoung wears as she watches you undress only grows bigger when she sees your hard cock snap out of your boxers when you take them off. She leads you right in front of the camera, and she smiles at it as she kneels down. She brings her lips to your cock, and you groan when she kisses your wet tip, then takes your length into her warm, wet mouth. 

Chaeyoung wastes no time—her tongue teases your tip as she bobs her head along your shaft. Saliva coasts every inch of your shaft as she blows you hard and fast. You know she's only doing this to prepare you for her pussy—she's been wet already for the last few shots, and with fifteen minutes left before the shoot, you're both not left with the luxury of time to have sex at your own pace. You groan with every bob of her head, and you can hear Chaeyoung rubbing herself below as well, the moans of pleasure and wet sounds of masturbation joining your vocalizations of pleasure.

When the idol gets up from your blowjob, her next instructions are softly whispered against your lips again.

"Fuck me, Youngjin."

It doesn't take long for Chaeyoung to lead your cock to line up with her pussy. You can feel her juices coat your tip as she leans back against the wall to line you up, and when she nods, you thrust your hard shaft right between her nether lips, and you penetrate Chaeyoung inch by inch. Both you and her moan loudly as the pleasure you draw from each other's body. When you hilt into Chaeyoung, she hops onto you, her legs locking around your waist into a stand-and-carry position, assisted by the smooth wall behind her. 

"Fuck me Youngjin," she repeats.

"Fuck me and make me cum, and I'll let you finish inside my pussy."

Ten minutes remain. 

"Oh, fuck yes, fuck yes, that's it Youngjin."

Chaeyoung's soft moans of pleasure mesh against your own when you begin to fuck up into her wet cunt. Her warm tight velvety walls grip your cock hard with every thrust, and you can't help but give in to the streaks of pleasure that it brings you. Chaeyoung's moans get louder when you kiss her breasts, your lips planting soft peck after soft peck on her petite chest until your tongue swipes over her taut bud. Your lips wrap around it, and you suck on her right breast while you fuck her, her moans increasing in volume at your actions.

"So good, Youngjin, fuck, fuck!"

"Damn it, Chaeyoung, you're so damn tight, fuck!"

Seven minutes.

"Quick, Youngjin."

You begin to ramp up the thrusts. With your hands on Chaeyoung's hips and ass, you hold her steady while you begin to thrust harder and faster. Both yours and Chaeyoung's moans increase in volume and frequency in time with your thrusts, and the world-famous idol begins to play with her own breasts while fuck into her. Chaeyoung has her eyes closed, her jaw slack as each thrust rocks her body. 

"How does it feel, Chaeyoung?"

"So good, so fucking good. How about you, Youngjin, does it feel good fucking an idol?"

"So fucking good, Chaeyoung."

"Good, good, now fucking make me cum."

With your instructions delivered, you begin to move to the final act with Chaeyoung. Four minutes left, and you desperately need to cum, as does she. You begin to pound her right where you are in front of the camera, and you crush your lips to Chaeyoung's in a bid to muffle both yours and her moans. The loud claps and wet sounds of sex echo around the room as you make out with her while pounding her tight pussy, and you can feel your orgasm beginning to approach. 

"Oh, fuck, Youngjin, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck I—!!"

Chaeyoung's words devolve into a broken yet drawn out moan as she shudders within your embrace. Her hips buck harshly as her tight pussy walls quiver around your cock, and the world famous TWICE member cums right on your cock. Chaeyoung gasps and whines as the orgasm takes hold of her, and you keep on fucking her throughout the entire process. Thrust after thrust, you send your cock deep into Chaeyoung's orgasming cunt while chasing your peak, and it comes mere seconds later as your hips stutter and lose their rhythm. 

"Chaeyoung, I—!"

You don't even get to finish your sentence before the first blast of semen fires deep into Chaeyoung's pussy. You moan with every subsequent shot of thick hot cum into her womb, and you empty your balls deep into Chaeyoung's needy cunt with every shallow thrust you can make, all until you feel the last droplets of cum spurt into her tight walls. 

The rush to switch the camera off and get dressed is crazy, but you'd have it no other way. Both you and Chaeyoung help to find each other's clothing, and you both manage to get yourselves back to looking semi-professional in the last two minutes before moving out together to the shoot location down the hallway. 

Chaeyoung whispers in your ear before both of you move to part and get ready for your individual jobs.

"Get my number from my manager. I'd love to shoot more with you."

She turns to leave, but she turns back again. 

"Maybe next time, we'll have more time to fuck."

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #male reader insert #twice smut #twice chaeyoung smut #son chaeyoung smut

[cxsmicbaby]

something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES 

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.” 

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer. 

“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears. 

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy. 

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. 

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily. 

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure. 

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel. 

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it. 

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely. 

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?” 

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me. 

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go. 

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school. 

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me. 

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place. 

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.” 

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform. 

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.” 

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them. 

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.” 

I smile. “You know I am.” 

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks. 

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules. 

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it. 

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically. 

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person. 

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.” 

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!” 

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?” 

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason. 

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it. 

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.” 

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby. 

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing. 

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same. 

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me. 

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now. 

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me. 

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.” 

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall. 

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing. 

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head. 

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.” 

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real. 

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.” 

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!” 

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head. 

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.” 

                                                       𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?” 

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you. 

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does. 

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it. 

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away. 

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.” 

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown. 

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never. 

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling. 

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it. 

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.” 

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave. 

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave. 

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself. 

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed. 

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.  

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time. 

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for. 

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected. 

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.  

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him. 

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it. 

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be. 

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy. 

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry. 

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place. 

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you. 

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him. 

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him. 

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice. 

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing. 

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you. 

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away. 

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough. 

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him. 

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan. 

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself. 

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower. 

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are. 

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #spiderman #spider-man 2099 #spiderverse #smut #miguel smut #spiderman smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut #peter parker #peter parker smut #marvel #marvel smut #x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #miguel x fem #fem!reader

[moralesmilesanhour]

'cold turkey' but i rewrote it - part two!

summary: the festivities have begun! but you forgot the drinks. whoops. wc: 2k+ a/n: I almost cut this short at like a thousand words but I knew in my SPIRIIITT that I wanted to add more twists and turns to this thing. It's a bit rushed but let's just say I'm very glad I did! if you feel like it: comment your favorite holiday-related dishes :) part one part two

“Traffic was nuts today,” your older sister Alanna sighed as she hauled a carton full of cans of soda over to the kitchen. She looked up and saw Miles, who smiled and gave her a quick wave. “Oh my god, Miles?”

“One and only,” he replied. “Been a minute, ain’t it?”

The woman set the carton down on the floor. “When did you get so big? You're taller than me!”

Miles shrugged. “Growth spurt.”

“Alright then, nice seeing you,” Alanna turned and joined you on the couch with that glint in her eye and smirk that appeared only when she was scheming. “He’s mad cute now, right?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “ ‘Lana, no. Not happening.”

“Come on, I’ve seen the niggas you been with and he’s literally your type–”

“Can you lower your voice? He’s right there!” you yell-whispered. 

You craned your neck to see if Miles was listening. His head was down, all focus seemingly directed towards cooking beans. 

You turned back towards Alanna. “Anyway, he’s Jeff’s kid. I don’t want beef with Jeff or his mama if we break up. They literally live around the corner, do you know how awkward that’s gonna be?”

“So pessimistic,” Alanna’s lips were upturned into a pout. “How you just met him and you already imagining the breakup?”

“I’m being realisti–”

“The beans are done!” Miles’ voice interrupted. 

You called out, “That’s great, thank you so much! I’ll see you later this evening?”

He emerged from the kitchen and began to put on his sneakers. “Yup, lookin’ forward to it,” he stood up and made direct eye contact with you as he smiled. “Good luck with med school.”

With that, Miles grabbed his jacket off of the hook by the entrance, and left.

Your sister watched the door shut behind him with a satisfied grin. “He likes you.”

“No he don’t,” you retorted, keeping your eyes glued to your socks. “You want him to like me.”

The image of fluttering lashes and the scar on his cheek returned to you. How Alanna could tell even without her knowing about that little encounter was a mystery.

“Well, either way, do what you want,” she rose from the couch with a sigh of resignation. “I’m just saying he seems sweet. Now, help me decorate, and I’ll let you make the playlist after.”

You perked up at the thought of having DJ privileges and hopped to your feet. “You got it!”

-

Only half an hour had passed since relatives and family friends began trickling in, but you were already exhausted. One more inescapable hug and barrage of questioning, and you swore you’d have a breakdown. 

Ding dong!

“I’ll get it!” you announced, narrowly escaping being accosted by one of your aunts as you made a beeline for the door.

It was Miles again, this time with company.

“Welcome back,” you greeted Miles and stepped back to open the door wider. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Morales!”

“Y/N! It’s been so long, tú eres tan guapa!” Rio Morales briefly took both of your hands in hers before entering, tugging Miles along with her.

Jefferson Morales was the last to go inside. His warm smile was a stark contrast to his wide, imposing frame. “I see Miles didn’t burn your kitchen down,” he laughed heartily. “He wasn’t too much trouble?”

Not in the way you were expecting.

You shook her head politely, “No, not at all! He even helped me finish dinner.”

Jefferson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, that’s good to hear. We really appreciate the invite.”

“No problem,” you nodded as you shut the door.

“Y/N!” Alanna rushed up to you not a moment later, looking mildly panicked. “Do you remember where you put the drinks? The alcoholic ones, I mean.”

Your eyes widened. “Fuck, I think I forgot to buy them.”

“...Now, your mother was going to nursing school at the time, so she had to…”

Jefferson’s deep voice carried over the music, catching Alanna’s attention. He stood near the tin of mac and cheese telling a story that–judging by the look on Miles’ face–he had told several times before.

That same smirk from before spread across her lips. ‘Do what you want’, sure, but a little helpful push wouldn’t hurt.

“Miles, do you wanna help out Y/N again? She forgot to go out and buy drinks.”

He perked up, relief written all over his face. “Yeah, it’s no problem! I’ll drive her.”

You narrowed your eyes at your sister, but didn’t push back. “That’s cool with me. I’ll go get my sweater.”

-

You squeezed your fingers nervously as Miles turned the key and brought the car roaring to life. 

What could you possibly say to him? ‘Hey, so we almost kissed earlier. Thoughts on that?’ 

“What kinda drinks y’all need?” his voice ripped you away from your thoughts as he pulled onto the road. 

You didn’t answer, your eyes fixated on the motion of his hands spinning the wheel.

“Y/N?”

You blinked.

“Huh?”

“What kind of drinks are we looking for?”

“Oh, um, wine and cider and shit,” you waved a hand in the air, “Stuff that goes with turkey.”

“Cool.”

The ride was quiet, largely because you were busy racking your brain trying to think of something–anything–to fill the silence with. You’d already asked about school, and you knew Miles’ parents. But what about him?

He stopped at a red light, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“So what do you do, like, outside of school?”

You winced. Small talk was not your forte.

Miles didn’t seem to mind though, appearing deep in thought before he answered, “I draw, when I got the time. Sing a little on the side.”

“I believe you. You look like you have a nice voice.”

An impish smile played on his lips. “Is that your way of saying I’m cute?”

“I…” the words were trapped in your throat. Part of you didn’t want to tell him the truth outright, but he was smiling at you and the sparkle in his eyes made you feel funny. 

“Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So there’s a low, but non-zero chance.”

You snorted, “Alright, physics major. The light’s green.”

“Oh, shit. Thanks.” Miles focused his attention back onto the road and continued driving.

You didn’t say anything more for the remainder of the ride, but he caught you staring at him every now and then through the rear view mirror, curiosity written on your face.

Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the supermarket.

“Think you’ll find ‘stuff that goes with turkey’ in here?”

“I hope so,” you laughed, unbuckling your seat belt, “My sister’s gonna put me in the dirt if I don’t.”

“Well, good luck!”

Miles unlocked the door, and you set out on your mission.

Luckily, it only took you about twenty minutes to locate a bottle of moscato and some hard apple cider. Just as he saw you emerge from the double doors, though, a familiar buzzing in the back of his head tipped him off.

Really? On Thanksgiving?

A man wearing an inconspicuous black ski mask and hoodie stood waiting by the entrance, ready to strike. 

“Yo, empty your pocke–”

Miles swung into action the moment he spotted the gleam of a firearm.

You yelped as a string of white web shot out from seemingly nowhere and yanked the gun from your assailant’s hands. 

“It’s the holidays! C’mon, man!” 

“Spider-Man?” Your jaw dropped at the sight of the masked hero. 

He was perched on top of a low building right next to the supermarket, only his white eyes and the bright red streaks lining his suit visible in the pitch-black of night.

“At your service, ma’am!” 

With a quick salute, he was gone as suddenly as he’d appeared. Like, literally gone. You didn’t see him leave.

You let out a deep exhale and made your way back to Miles’ car, but you couldn’t see him in the window. A pit began to form in your stomach, until a voice made you jump.

“Hey, you alright?”

It was Miles, who had somehow appeared at your side without a sound. He was out of breath, leaning his elbow on the side of the vehicle for support.

Your eyes narrowed. “I’m…fine. Are you okay? Where’d you go?”

“Bathroom,” he lied. He pointed towards the bags you were holding. “Need help with those?”

You handed them over without a second thought. “Definitely. You know this nigga almost robbed me outside the store just now? Then, right as he’s about to pull a gun on me, guess who shows up?”

Miles grinned knowingly. “Spider-Man?”

“Showed up quick as hell! Even on Thanksgiving, can you imagine?”

“Crazy.”

He opened the door to the passenger’s side for you to get in. 

“Thanks.”

Miles did a slight bow, allowing you to catch a flash of red and black peeking out from beneath his jacket. You had assumed that he was wearing a turtleneck at first, but upon closer inspection–

“At your service,” he said with a grin before making his way over to the driver’s seat.

As you shut the door, Spider-Man’s voice returned to you.

At your service, ma’am.

The rest of the way home, you replayed both sentences in your head, alternating between the two and replaying the night’s events.

Miles had just so happened to reappear mere seconds after Spider-Man had said the words. They even shared an accent. You considered the absurd possibility for a moment; the police chief’s son being the masked vigilante would make quite the headline, almost poetic in its irony. 

Too poetic.

But just as you were about to let it go, Miles went over a speedbump, causing a jolt that made something begin to slip out from his jacket’s right pocket.

Black, red and white.

You pondered how to broach the subject once he pulled up in front of your house, when a lightbulb went off in your head.

Reaching over to the red button that released your seatbelt, you pressed it halfway, over and over again.

“Miles, I think my seatbelt’s stuck. Help me out?”

Miles removed his own with a click. “Sure, lemme see.”

He leaned over and reached the passenger’s seat with ease. His breath hit the side of your neck as he moved closer, making your heart rate quicken, but you maintained focus.

What mattered was that he was in close quarters. You had to see the suit.

“Got it,” Miles said once he released your not-actually-stuck seatbelt. “You’re free–”

Before he could move any further, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and unzipped it halfway.

“I knew it!”

The look of sheer terror on Miles’ face sealed the deal. Here was Spider-Man, in all of his glory.

“Are you…gonna…tell anyone?” 

His voice was hushed as he spoke. Almost small. You looked into those round, glassy eyes and felt a wave of guilt. 

“I–no, of course not,” you shook your head. “I just…I needed to be sure.”

He relaxed, some of the humor returning to his face. “And now that you’re sure?”

A cheeky grin spread across your lips.

“I guess I should thank you.”

You tugged at his collar one more time and brought his lips crashing against yours.

After getting over the initial surprise, Miles brought a hand up to caress one side of your face and deepen the kiss. Your other hand reached up and brushed the cold metal of one of his stud earrings before you snaked your arm around his neck.

Miles was the first to pull away, zipping his jacket back up.

“I don’t think I can stay in this position for that long,” he smiled. “We gotta get back inside with these drinks.”

You sighed, head still pounding with adrenaline. “You’re right, let’s get outta here.”

By the time you made it up the steps, Alanna was already holding the door open. She gave your face a good once-over and stifled a laugh.

“Did you two have fun on your little adventure?”

You took one of the bags from Miles and held it up like a trophy. “Yup, mission accomplished.”

“That’s not what I meant, baby,” she gestured towards her lips and mouthed “your lip gloss.”

Your eyes widened as she snickered, and let the two of you in. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll fix it in the bathroom. Hurry up!”

A few makeup wipes and a liner touch-up later, you emerged from the bathroom just in time for dinner.

Out of all the chairs strewn about the living room, you ended up seated between Miles and Jefferson. The former kept quiet, save for the occasional joke or wink thrown in your direction. Jefferson kept inquiring about your studies, which would then bounce back to Miles’ studies, which Miles then would somehow deflect back to you. Any and all conversation with Jeff became awkward, considering you had just made out with his son.

The party ending felt like a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

You stood at the entrance, waving goodbye to the steady stream of guests as their conversations stretched on, even from their cars. The Morales family were the last to leave.

After his parents went down the steps, Miles stopped in front of the door.

“Hey,” he smiled and tilted his head.

“Hey. You ready to go? I’m not letting you stay the night,” you teased.

“Wasn’t planning to, I promise. I just wanted to ask…” 

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “When are you goin’ back to campus?”

“Monday.”

Miles winced, “Damn.”

“I know, I literally gotta start packing to-night! It’s a nightmare!”

“In that case,” he took out his phone, and held it out to you gingerly. “Can we keep in touch?”

You accepted the offer, rapidly entering your digits and saving them under your name. “Worried about me spilling your secret identity?”

“Absolutely. I gotta keep an eye on you from now on. Like witness protection, but backwards–”

“Miles, vamos!” Rio called out from a distance.

“I’m coming, mami!” he replied before turning back to you. “See you winter break?”

You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe. Non-zero chance.”

"I'll take it."

#miles morales x reader #miles morales fic #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x fem!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv x reader #moralesanhour

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Evermore - Part 5

Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to return is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been in front of you this whole time?

Chapter Summary: Eddie sees a few old faces and starts to realize that maybe his actions have consequences.

Warnings: Angst. Bad feelings. Per usual, Eddie turns to drugs/alcohol to numb/avoid his feelings. AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

You and Steve had fallen asleep on the couch. The movie ended and the VCR started to auto rewind the tape, the small noise in the otherwise quiet space roused you awake. You were curled into him, head still resting on his chest, arm wrapped around his torso while his was slung over you, hand resting on your hip.

He was leaning back on the couch, mouth slightly ajar from the angle with small snores escaping his sleeping form with his glasses still perched on his nose. He hated the way he looked in them, though you frequently assured him he was still just as devastatingly handsome.   

Looking so peaceful you didn’t want to wake him, but your back was now screaming at you to move from being crouched over in the somewhat awkward position for so long.

“Stevie,” softly speaking his name, shaking him slightly where your hand rested on his stomach. He shifted a bit more toward you gripping your side, pulling you closer to him with a small “hmph” escaping his now slightly parted lips.

“Stevie, wake up. We fell asleep.” You spoke a little more loudly this time. Your voice stirred him awake, only then releasing the death grip he held you in.

Finally able to stretch your achy muscles, moving away from him as he sat up, taking the glasses from his face rubbing his eyes and face.

“Shit, what time is it?” he spoke, while he brought his wrist up trying to focus. “Shit” he muttered again before you could find the clock to answer him.

“I told Robin I’d pick Maddie up 15 minutes ago,” sighing, putting his glasses back on. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to call.”  

You laugh knowing it’s true. Robin is a chronic worrier.

Laying a hand to your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he rose. Stretching, with his shirt riding up exposing the sliver of skin below his navel, his dark hair that your eyes drifted to where you know it trailed further hidden beneath his sweats. You looked away before he noticed where your gaze had landed.

“Hey,” looking up at him then, his warm honey hued eyes caught yours, “you’re welcome to come with. You can stay over mine tonight.”

Reaching up for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze as you spoke, “I’ll be ok for at least one night. I’ve got to take inventory since I’m watching Maddie tomorrow.”

He squeezed back, harder than you had. “If, you’re sure.”

“Course Steve, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He nods, releasing your hand, albeit a little reluctantly, bending down with a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“See you tomorrow,” he gathers his things and heads out the door but not without sparing another disquieting glance your way, chewing his bottom lip just a bit. He looked like he was about to say something, lips parting slightly but instead shook his head lightly, then smiling before closing the door.

You were alone once with your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You were spiraling and this isn’t what you wanted to happen. For the last few hours, Steve served as a nice distraction. You could imagine that Eddie had never shown back up and all was right with the world. You were over him, so why was seeing him today so difficult?

“Nope!” you yelled into the expanse of the empty house. Inventory was going to happen a little earlier than usual.

Eddie had made it an entire 30 minutes in the Hideout parking lot before he was completely bored out of his mind, which by his standards may have been a record for sitting still.

He noticed the coffee shop across the street was open and lively, so he thought he’d grab a cup and stroll around downtown for a bit. Just another couple of hours before he could binge away the day and probably most of the night. He was already planning on leaving tomorrow anyway, why not go out with a bang?

The little coffee shop was named ‘Peaches and Cream’. He supposed it was appropriate, everything else in this God forsaken town reminded him of his failings and regrets.

He walked in as the bell above his head announced his arrival with a small chime. It drew the attention of some of the people sitting around already enjoying their steaming cups. It wasn’t every day they had some metalhead rockstar covered in tattoos and dressed in all black walk into this quiet little shop. His appearance was stark in contrast with the cheery, neutral setting.

“Well, I guess hell finally froze over,” a snarky, all too familiar voice from behind the counter captured his attention.

Snapping his head in that direction, he was met with a fiery red head starring daggers straight through him. Her arms were crossed above the apron that was adorned with the name of the shop. She was older, but still looked the same in many ways and by the sounds of it still had a sharp tongue that could still give Mike Wheeler a run for his money.

“Red.” He stated, sending a small smile her way that she didn’t return.  

“Oh, so you do remember us small town folk.” Cynical attitude on full display, though he thought he rightly deserved it. “What are you doing here? Trying to earn a stalking charge?”

“What the hell is that supposed that mean?” he quipped back, shuffling forward.

“Like you don’t know this is her shop. Get real Munson.” She scoffed and started walking through the double doors that led to the back of the store.

“Wait, Red. She own’s this place?” his voice suddenly felt small. He had made his way up to the counter, and placed both his palms on the cool surface, trying to regain some composure. Wayne’s words coming back to him, “doing real good for herself.”

Max rounded and eyed him wearily.

“You didn’t know?” she questioned, eyebrows scrunching with confusion for a moment before scoffing again, rolling her eyes. “Wow, well, I mean it really doesn’t shock me. Not like you kept in touch with any of your friends. You know when you took off, Peach isn’t the only one you left behind Eddie.”

“Max, just… just cut the shit!” exasperated, he raised his voice, gaining the attention of the patrons around the place once more.

“I just need a black coffee and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t have the time or patience for this right now.” Time was something he had, patience he very much lacked.

She moved then, grabbing the pot and filling a to-go cup for him, placing it on the counter in front of him, as he pulled out his wallet.

“I should charge you triple,” she mumbled under her breath, as she started to ring up the single coffee.

He pulled out a twenty, laid it on the counter and started to walk away.

“Hey,” Max shouted, looking back up. “I was just kidding”. But he was already out the door.

“Max!” you yelled as you entered the back of the coffee shop.

She poked her head through the doors, “Hey Peach! You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I uh… Didn’t feel like sitting around the house all day.” You joined her up front, probably looking a little disheveled from the nap earlier. You hadn’t taken the time to look in the mirror before leaving, getting dressed and gathering your things as quickly as possible.  

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Munson being back in town, would it?” She eyed you, tilting her head as she crossed her arms, leaning against the back counter.

“Ah, I guess word has gotten around then?”

“I mean yeah, but he also just left about 10 minutes ago. He really looks like shit.” She stated matter-of-factly.

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, he does look a little worse for wear.” She shrugged as she walked to lock up for the day.

She helped you take inventory like she did most Sundays. You and Max had stayed close even after you graduated, you were like the big sister she never had. After Eddie had left, she moved in with you until you had bought the house. She had stayed in the apartment above the Hideout until she eventually moved in with Lucas.

After your work was done, you drove by the Hideout, seeing a black sedan parked there knowing immediately who it was. Did he really have nothing else to do?  

You headed home, ready to rid yourself of the past, you wanted to forget he had ever come back to darken your doorstep. You have made your own life here. He was now an unwanted intrusion. Dreams once shared together now a distant echo of the past.

Does everyone in this fucking town really want to tear him a new one? He left the coffee shop more irritated than when he left your house. At least he knew exactly what he was getting himself into showing up there. The sudden rush he had felt seeing a familiar face quickly faded, feeling cornered all over again lashing out at Max.

He kept checking his watch, counting down the minutes until the Hideout would finally open and he could stifle some of this misery for at least a little while.

He would wallow in his self-pity today and tomorrow he would be back on his way to L.A. There was no place left in your life for him. What did he really expect? You welcoming him with open arms like nothing had ever happened? He must be more delusional than he thought. You’ve always been stubborn. There was a better chance of Hell freezing over than you ever forgiving him. But was it forgiveness he was really seeking? No, he had wanted more. A second chance to make things right.

When 4 PM rolled around, Eddie shot out of the car, hoping whoever was working had opened on time.

He threw open the door, the scent of cheap alcohol and stale peanuts hit him. Nostalgia at its best. At this point, all he could do is ride the wave, there is nowhere in Hawkins that wouldn’t stir some sort of memory or feelings for him.

It still looked relatively the same. He could tell it had a fresh paint job in recent years though the walls remained the same shade of hunter green they had always been. He noted that there were band posters hung around the place featuring more modern musicians. Maybe ole’ Hank was trying to draw in a younger crowd, growing with the times.

The bar top remained the same warm wood he remembered. I bet if he looked hard enough the initials of yours and his he had carved in the surface would still be there.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” you whispered, as he took out his pocketknife, scratching into the wood with ease.

“Shhhh… just keep a look out for your Uncle.” He whispered back.

You were both a little tipsy that night. Hank had let you stay after hours. The boys had a show earlier, but it was just you and him left. Doors already locked for the night.

“He’s going to kill you when he sees that.” You giggle, knowing Hank wouldn’t really care. You scooted closer to him, feeling the warmth his body pressed close to yours provided. Pink tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, a habit he had when concentrating.

“Done!” he sat back a little, as you peeked over his shoulder. He had carved both your initials with a heart around it. “Just a little something for this town to remember us by when we’re long gone.”

 Your hand reached out tracing the letters as he swung his arm around you pulling you in to kiss your temple.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of that imagery. Avoiding that stool knowing exactly where those initials would be, instead opting for the last seat at the end of the bar.

The place was void of any life. He sat down, waiting a few moments before raising his voice a bit, “Hello?”

A younger guy walked from the back room. Eddie thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him. Probably someone who went to school with him.

“Oh Hi, sorry. Don’t usually get too many folks in here this early.” The younger man smiled warmly.

“Look, I just need you to give me a Jack, with ice. Keep em’ coming and it’ll be worth your while. Kay?” He flashed a few hundreds the young man’s way.

“Whatever you say sir.” He pocketed the money and poured the drink.

The end of the bar gave him a little privacy. It was darker, hidden from the direct eye line of the entrance.

By the time 7 rolled around he was feeling about half as good as he wanted to, it took a lot to get him messed up these days. The bar was a little livelier than when he was younger. Seemed to be more people around his age instead of the older crowd that hung around back when the Corroded Coffin boys were still in school.  

Closer to 9 with blood shot eyes, pupils dilated and speech starting to slur he asked the bartender, Randy, whose name he had finally caught, for another but that’s when the younger man hesitated. He had noticed the way the metalhead started to fade.

“Hey man, think you may have had enough, yeah?”

Eddie shot a pensive look at the man, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t I tell you to keep em’ coming? Huh?”

“You did, but uh… I think my boss would kill me if they knew I were serving you too much.”

“Hank? Nah, I know Hank.” He shot back dismissively with a wave of his hand.

“Hank hasn’t owned this place for a couple of years now. Retired.” Randy stood his ground.

“Well,” Eddie stood then, with a sway, losing his balance but quickly righting himself. “I don’t care who the owner is, I paid you good money to keep the drinks coming.” Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat back down with a thud.

One more drink before him now, nodding and tipping it back.

Not long after, Randy had decided it was time he phoned the local Sherriff before things got out of hand.

Arriving a short time later in a gruff mood, being interrupted from his nice Sunday evening with the family, getting a call that the local celebrity was starting to raise a ruckus in the small bar wasn’t what he had expected.

He slinked up to Eddie and sat on the stool next to him. He never even looked up, eyes trained ahead as if the bar top was the most interesting thing in the world.

Jim wasn’t in uniform, thinking it best to not make it a bigger deal than it may have already been. He would attempt to quietly get them both the hell out of there taking him somewhere to sleep it off until morning.

He waved at Randy, who immediately grabbed him a beer. Sitting it before him with a thump, finally gaining the attention of the other man knocking him out of whatever little world he had been in.

“Hop… Hopper?” he pensively asked. More a statement but came as a question.

“Hey son,” he looked over then, Eddie’s eyes starting to grow heavier. Hopper had been around long enough to tell alcohol didn’t seem to be the only thing in the younger man’s system, but that would need be left for another conversation.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” he started, drawing a cigarette from the new packet he produced from his pocket, lighting it. “I’m going to finish this beer that Randy here was kind enough to get me, then you and I are going to take a little walk.”

Eddie just nodded. Coherent thoughts drowned out by the music and the haze of the alcohol taking full effect. And that’s what happened, Hopper drank as Eddie sat quietly; head hung until he heard him snivel.

The old juke box in the corner kicked up an old song, yet another reminder of the past. “Mmm yeah! Tonight, I want to give it all to you.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he lowly murmured to himself, shaking his head lightly, catching the other man’s attention.

“You know, this was her favorite song.” A moment of clarity in the haze that hung over his mind.

The song continued to play, “I was made for lovin’ you baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” The universe was truly toying with him.

The vivid picture of you dancing around the little apartment rattled around. You had this song on full blast, using a ladle you had grabbed from the counter, singing along. Your laughter bubbling over once Eddie had joined in on the impromptu concert.

Jim didn’t say anything at first, waiting for Eddie to continue but he didn’t, already lost in that thought. He hung his head back down, hair effectively hiding his face and the tears that were threatening to spill, eyes stinging from the sensation.

“I never meant to hurt her like that… I… I fucked up,” he said lowly.

“You ever tell her that?” Hopper asked, as if it was the most sensical thing.

“I tried.” He nodded. Hopper was a man of few words when it came to matters of the heart. Actions always outweigh words.

The older man then paid for his drink and started to help Eddie from the stool, grabbing under his arm to stabilize him.

“Alright Bud, let’s go.”

Randy started to ask, “Do I need to call…?”

Jim cut him off with a harsh glance and shake of his head, “I’ll take care of it.” Then turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Come on kid, let’s get you somewhere you can rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Eddie yanked his arm from his grip with so much force he would have assuredly fell to the ground had it not been for the older man catching his jacket.

Jim just dragged him from the bar without so much as another word or glance back. Once they reached the parking lot, Eddie stopped again, feet planted firmly this time.

“Where… where is she? I… I need ta’ talk to her.” He slurred.

“Look, son, now is not the time to start this mopey sad shit. You’re drunk, I’ll call Wayne. He can get you home to sleep this off.”

“No!” he yelled now, “Where’s Peach? I need ta’ tell her. I need ta’ talk to her. Please man.” He was thinking of what he had done that night. Seemingly taking what he needed and then taking his leave. He never meant it, he wished he could take it all back.

Eddie was staring at him with pleading, glazed over eyes. He started to break down, as he was led to the back of the cruiser. The older man took pity on him, even though he knew it was a bad idea. He was able to get him into the back without much more coaxing, accepting his fate.

He made sure the door was secure and went back into the bar to use the phone.

Hesitantly, he dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Hey, it’s Jim. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

Taglist: @josephquinncore @theawkwardbutterfly @munsonmecrazy @jadedhillon @pettydonuts @angelina16torres-blog @justheretoreadleavemealone @heyyimmisunderstood @micheledawn1975 @devilslittlebabyxx @luciferiorbxtch @bebe07011 @yunnie-f1 @akiratoro420 @evansslutt @sheerfreesia007 @tlclick73 @bakugouswh0r3 @vintagehellfire @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @ali-r3n

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #dad! steve harrington #older!eddie #older!steve #evermore part 5 #evermore

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails before spring ends

✰ pairings: felix x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, modern royalty au

✰ warnings: mentions of alcohol, insecurities, some cursing (only damn and that too once), felix belittles himself very much

✰ word count: 1.5k + words (got too carried away with this)

FELIX | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | seun gmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

today is another day of me thinking i wish we weren’t impossible. a rather blunt way to start it is, i know. but i cannot help myself as i watch you from across the room, in the arms of a rather worthy man. and i cannot help but think what it is to have what he does. fame, money, personality and. . . looks. i cover up my freckles and drew new ones because they look rather unorganised. i have to set my hair every ten minutes, in hopes i don’t look like i’m at my worst. or maybe, to have your attention on me. how utterly pleasing must it be. the gentlemen– he is everything i’m not. he is everything i try to be. he is everything i ever wanted to be. and now, he’s also stealing the most precious thing i ever had. you. and i’m helpless. i can’t do anything but watch. as i’m only your royal advisor.

two 𖨂

you tell me you love me at midnight. you cup my cheeks and kiss me deeply at midnight. you again tell me that you love me and snuggle against me at midnight. and i love it. every bit of it. but i must ask, why midnight? why not in the daylight? or is it too embarrassing for you to be seen caught in such acts? once again i ask, what’s wrong with us? why are we impossible? that’s the only reason i won’t admit that i love you. because if i do, i’m afraid that it’ll come true. and it’s barbaric. because i can’t love you. you don’t need my love when you have thousands of suitors up in line with proposals. and it’s rather upsetting to say i don’t even stand a chance among these royals. i’m. . . the watcher. just watching you all the time. tell me, is it love if i think of you all the time? and even though i shouldn’t be, i can’t help it. not when you look utterly beautiful when you wake up. your unruly hair, bare face and your smile– the one that has kept me under your spell. and though, i should be sending you the proposal requests from all across the city, i keep them with me. in my chambers, locked up in some rusty box so you don’t get taken away from me. and it is selfish of me indeed. but if it means, i can avoid watching you fall for another man for some weeks, i suppose it’s a rather good idea. good for my heart too.

three 𖨂

why do you make it so hard for me to leave quietly? why did you have to take my leaving notice and tear it? why? i demand answers. why don’t you understand how hard it is for me? let go of me please. along with the thoughts that we would ever have a happily ever after. i have gotten rid of it as well. it’s impossible, sweetheart. and i’m sorry– for not trying harder and going away this easily. but i’ve seen your heart, and i know it longs for me just like mine does. and that’s all i ever need to know. that’s all. but if you still continue to stop me i’ll have to remind you of the harsh reality. yes, reality. what you’re thinking is just a dream. you and me, we’re on two different levels. so, please don’t make it harder for me than it already is. and i wish it didn’t have to be this soon or under such unforeseen circumstances, but i’ll say it right now. i love you. but i hate love. so much. i’m terribly miserable without you. and i want to spend every second of my life with you. and now, here i am. bitterly laughing at myself while thinking of my dreams. dreams, no wonder they sound so unrealistic. it took me a lot of courage to say all this, many bottles of fine wine and a broken heart. you’re the person i cannot love. and even though a mere thought of you has me smiling foolishly to myself, allowing myself to lower my walls and let you in and see my vulnerability, i still cannot love you. because i can never have you. never.

four 𖨂

darling stop hurting yourself over me. please. you deserve someone who can make you happy. someone who has money to spend on you and your future children, someone who has time to take you out and roam around the city and someone. . . who is truly as valuable as you are. as high as you are. an equal. that’s who you need. don’t cry for me. what we had was beautiful. yet tragic. and it’s something i won’t even forget or move on from. it hurts me knowing i can’t comfort you any longer, as i’m too far away now. so far that you can’t even reach it if you wanted to. stop searching for me. stop trying to come to me. stop, just stop. i’m sorry that i loved you. but i don’t regret it in a bad way. i regret that i couldn’t buy you expensive gifts that you received from other suitors, or even cherish you properly. but the intimacy we had was sincere. and i can still sense it. i did receive your calls and texts, but it’s inappropriate of us to be talking that way when your engagement has been announced, my love. whatever we had, should end right here before anyone else finds out. and if they do, i don’t know how i’ll control myself. you need to understand the urgency! they can hurt you, kill you and even use you if they ever find out! and i don’t want anyone looking at you, touching you in a way that can cause you harm. please, for my sake, stop. i’ll meet you one last time, just like you wanted and after that don’t call out for me anymore. i love you. and that’s why it’s my responsibility to also protect you. though not physically, but i can try to avoid any danger that’s walking towards you. text me, only if there’s an emergency. good night sweetheart, try to sleep okay? read the book from where we last left it if you can’t seem to fall asleep. okay? i miss you too, i hope you know that.

five 𖨂

our last time was a goodbye, and i hated that it felt like one so damn much. you looked so weak, are you sure you’re taking proper care of yourself? it was hard to pull away from that hug. because i knew that if i did, you would have to walk away from me. and even though you should, since it’s unsafe for you to be seen around me, it stung pretty badly. every word you said to me– i have it written down in my diary just so that i don’t forget. and when you said, “felix, i’m sorry to have been born in this life where you couldn’t publicly be mine, neither could i be yours. but i hope you know that our hearts are entangled deep with each other”, i felt that. it struck me so hard that i get tears everytime it replays in my head. you may call me a coward for not fighting, but nothing matters more than your safety and wellbeing. nothing at all. i would like to say something as well, and please remember it. i just want to say that our love it’s true, it’s pure and passionate and keeps growing no matter the time, place or the distance between us. in this life, i couldn’t have you. . . but in next life, i won’t let go of you. i’ll stop you, love you and fight for you. i would do all the things i couldn’t complete in this life. perhaps, in the next life this love story of ours will have a happily ever after and i’ll pray for it.

six 𖨂

remember when i told you that you remind me of springtime? i didn’t lie. the air smells different, the flowers begin to bud, after that dark and cold winter; it brings out smiles. and you, my love after the definition of spring, you’re the rebirth of all my laughs that i lost in my childhood. you gave me a new life, a new will to live. you’re the light to my life, like the fresh innocence of spring. forever until death brings us together, i’m yours and yours only. and i wish you a life full of joy. like the spring you are, let’s give us a rebirth and act like strangers who once were lovers as well. i hope to meet you again when spring starts. just like the beat of my heart, i longingly stare at you, so don’t worry, i’ll always have my eye on you darling. spring ends tomorrow, and we do too. i love you even through the harsh winters and scorching suns.

PERM TAGLIST: @taeriffic 🧣 @hello-2-u-from-me 🧣 @ilychee08 🧣 @sleepyleeji 🧣 @spacegirlstuff

#ॱଳ͘ #k labels #straykids reactions #stray kids fluff #straykids angst #stray kids x reader #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #lee felix #felix angst #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz angst #skz felix #skz x female reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[bimbodoggie]

cybersex • (simon “ghost” riley x camgirl!reader)

contents/warnings: fem reader, consensual filming, toys, mean!dom simon, impregnating mention, face sitting, yourself on the shelf position, reader is plus sized, size kink, hair pulling, also simon is an asshole, oh also simon has a jacob’s ladder teehee :3

a/n: i started school and this semester has been beating my ass, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!, all art is by @ave661

your job was way easier than simon’s, you’d play dress up and take pretty pictures and videos for thousands of people on the internet….but simon he didn’t mind it because he knew that you were untouchable.

sometimes it did bother him tho, the fact others got to see what was his on the daily, but you could quit anytime you wanted, but this particular day it was different. the way simon was acting was kind of….strange, but then again he’s a 6’2 1/2 man who parades in a skull eggshell mask and the occasional balaclava with gunpowder or charcoal to match

all day your mind was filled by your thoughts of how he’s probably on the verge of breaking up with you right now, but then again this is the same man who spent his free time on base using your photos and videos as jerk bait….the front door creaked open and the sound of his boots and duffle bag hit the floor, its like this man had no trace of sound because next thing you know you two were eye to eye staring at each other.

it was embarrassing to say the least because well, you were naked and vulnerable…the only noise that came from his mouth was a satisfied grunt followed by a quick kiss on the mouth, you decided breaking the silence first was the best thing to do considering…

“are you leaving me?” was the question of the day, he froze, like a deer in headlights…if only you knew that was the complete opposite of what needed to be said from his mouth…once again silence filled the room as he walked over and shut off your camera which made you wonder even more about what his next move was

“you know, i’ve been thinking…that maybe instead of being being the director i get my role of the old pervert, something we can both remember yeah?”

what the fuck…is this the big secret he was storing away in his file cabinet? a fantasy, your mouth opened and closed, simon’s reaction was pretty expected, a hearty laugh a booming one at that…

“cmon use your words i know somewhere in that empty brain of yours you can conjure up a couple words yeah?”

instead of a verbal response which he wanted you just shook your head and ignored him which you would have to pay the price later but who cares at least him leaving you isn’t in the equation.

without warning simon picked you up and put you on the bed, looking you in your eyes to indicate that you either was going to break or he was going to break you.

he lifted his mask and started kissing from your neck all the way down to your malleolus bone, this man knew your body like the back of his hand, all the sensitive spots, where to lick, bite and touch he knew it all. he paused to turn on the camera.

“the first thing you’re gonna do is get on your knees and tell the audience what you’re doing today, then depending on how good you are i’ll let you be in charge for a little how does that sound lovey”

your brain circuited and was now functioning off of the commands from simon you scrambled from the bed to the floor…your big eyes met his lifeless ones.

“hi- hi everyone today i will be letting my boyfriend ghost be in my- my vids”

this was humiliating but you enjoyed every single moment, your mouth met his tip which was glistening with pre and begging to be touched, his cock was decorated with piercing jewelry which was a stimulant for your cunt, with his free hand he grabbed a fistful of hair and guided you to what he wanted to do, after that nothing but grunts and degrading phrases bounced around the walls

before he was remotely close to finishing he then picked you up and fucked into you, it was too much to bare, thousands of people watching you and how your boyfriend abuses your cunt on the daily basis, simon’s hand came into contact with your ass groping it, and leaving marks which will show in the morning

there was a heart shaped, light pink butt plug jewel which sparkled in the reflection of the light, the sounds of skin filled the room as you cried out for him to be gentle, he ignored your plea but instead moved a little closer to the camera putting your holes on display for thousands to see

user239329849: he’s such a lucky man

anon3453905: i would do anything to get my hands on her

simon laughed at the desperation comments that entailed of men and their sick fantasies, but simon was the only one who could act on them…he then put you down and signaled you to sit on his face, as much as you wanted to tell him your cunt was saying too much, you wanted him and needed him…the way his warm tongue consoled your weeping cunt had you in tears, the whining and crying for him to slow down was non existent to him.

he then positioned you to where your face was in the camera while he spread open the globes of your brown ass, “gonna give you a baby, i always know when you’re ovulating, i always track it on my calendar in my phone to make sure i get you pregnant” he rasped as he increased his pace….so much was going on which made you wonder if you could take him or not

he wanted a view of how your skin turned red at the sight of him battering your insides like it was some sick recipe…. “si baby, please im just please” your replied to him as he looked you in the eyes, a light slap from his hand was to question if you were still there or if you was just brainless, you started babbling incoherent sentences which was an indication to simon you were close, he took his hand pressed it again your lower abdomen…you tried you really did but he knew your body like a map

“you really are braindead, just a hole f’me and nothin else yea?”

that sent you overboard, it was enough with the jewelry that decorated his cock, you felt the band in your stomach pop making you to make a mess, it felt as if he planned this, he was sick but you liked it….he then turn your ass and cunt to the camera to show the cum leaking out of your throbbing hole….a sloppy kiss from simon was all you needed, you felt like he was breaking you

“touch her and i will find you personally and kill you”

he then ended the live stream to give you aftercare but deep down you knew he was serious

#cod mw2 smut #simon ghost riley smut #callofdutysmut #simon riley x black!reader #call of duty smut #codsmut #simon riley smut #dom!simonriley #simon riley plus sized!reader

[gaysindistress]

This is self indulgent and I don’t care.

Enjoy my pain:

Panic attacks; racing heart beats,breathing too fast, the feeling of drowning but you can’t swim any longer, and the fear. The symptoms of anxiety are not new to him but nonetheless they take him by surprise.

He calls me every time. Whether on purpose or not, he calls me every time they sneak up. He tries to tell me that they’re getting better but I can hear the shallowness and breathlessness in his voice. He tries to chuckle to cover it but i hear it every time.

“Hey.”

I smile to myself as I hear his voice crackle through the phone, “hi, bubba.”

“How..how are you?”

He’s trying so hard to make normal conversation regardless of the fact that it’s 6 am and we both know he’s been up for hours.

“I’m good, how are you?”

Hesitation is never a good sign.

“I…well,” he starts before stopping to let out a shaky breath, “I’m out front.”

“I’ll be there in a second,” I tell him but don’t hang up. When he’s like this any time alone gives him too opportunities to overthink and spiral. I don’t talk but hearing me moving around and breath is enough until he can see me.

Only when I open the door and am able to see him do I end the call.

“Hi,” he says with an awkward small smile.

“Hi,” I repeat as I step back and allow him to come in. He pushes off his hood and takes off his running shoes, evidence that he tried to run from his anxiety but wasn’t successful. I watch him and offer out my hand when he straightens back up.

Bucky glances down at my hand and then to my face, waiting for me to back away or otherwise reject him. This is another thing he does every time; he gives me the chance to take back my open arms and unconditional support.

I wiggle my fingers at him as a gentle “come on” and he reaches for it with his metal hand but pauses. I imagine if he could, he would never touch me with it out of fear that he will hurt me. I also imagine that he wants nothing more than to be able to embrace me without restraints so I take his hand before he can pull away.

I grip the freezing metal hand in my own two and pretend to blow on it to warm it up. He lets out a half hearted chuckle, “what are you doing?”

“Warming you up. You’re freezing,” I state as if it’s the obvious thing in the world and that seems to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Today we’re buying you more layers,” I tell him as I lead him towards my room, “if you’re going to go out in the literal snow, you will be wearing a sufficient amount of layers.”

He laughs again and this time it’s more genuine than before.

We both slide under the worn and loved covers on my bed, lying so that we facing one another.

“I love you,” I whisper to him as I trace the lines of his face. It’s an unspoken understanding between us that he doesn’t have to say it back. He shows it in the ways he chooses and words is not his favored method.

“I am safe,” I start and he repeats.

“I am free.”

“I am grounded, centered, and stable.”

“I am supported.”

“I have the power to control my emotions.”

“I choose to think positive thoughts.”

“I am strong, resilient, and capable.”

“I am not my past.”

“I am loved.”

“I am worthy.”

“I belong here.”

“I have the power to choose my future.”

“I free myself from the fear of the unknown.”

“I am safe.”

“I am free.”

“What Im feeling is temporary.”

“I choose peace.”

“I am not my past.”

“I am loved.”

“I am free.”

“I am the most handsome man in the world and I have the most amazing friend ever,” I sneak in there but he catches it and laughs with his entire body. It rumbles through his chest and lightly shakes the bed, vibrating through me too.

My own smile turns into a fit of laughter and we’re both breathless from our joy as we try to catch our breath.

“Thank you,” he whispers when he able to speak and scoots closer to me.

“Bubba,” I say as sadness clutches at my heart, “I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t need to thank me.”

While no words come out, his eyes say it all; he needs to because otherwise he’ll feel like he’s taking advantage of me.

I press a kiss to the knuckles on his left hand and nod for him to turn over. He does and I slide one arm under his head to play with his hair while the other slips under his left arm. With my arm across his chest, I lace our fingers together and hold him tightly against my body as his relaxes.

We stay like this as he finds comfort in my touch and allows himself to be cared for. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and twist the short strands long after his breathing has become heavy and rhythmic. I keep my tight hold long after his has loosened and sleep has taken him.

I refuse to stop loving him even if he wouldn’t know.

I refuse to stop because I know he wouldn’t.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Five]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.2k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Chapter five is here with some emotional hurt/comfort! I've had Mikey stuck on the brain so y'all get another chapter and I hope you enjoy it! Chapter six will most likely come some time after I focus a bit more on my Matty stories. Feel free to leave love if you enjoyed this one! Mikey and Reader get a little closer...

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella2 @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars

“I don’t know how you watch these mindless shows,” you muttered, eyes on the reality romance show your sister was watching.

The pair of you were curled up on either end of the couch in her living room, an oversized plush blanket tossed over the both of you. You’d made dinner tonight and had it ready for when Megan had finished her shift at the hospital today, having spent your morning restocking her fridge and her pantry. You’d later spent your afternoon grudgingly working on writing after Angela had checked in with you, but you’d only managed a measly two thousand words today. You weren't exactly thrilled about that, but you had admittedly been distracted after yesterday. 

Thankfully nothing strange and out of the ordinary had happened today. There had been no weird traces of him cropping up anywhere–in your life or online. Which you’d been grateful for, your fear lessening just a bit today. You figured if he’d found you, you’d certainly know by now. 

“Considering my love life has been very much lacking,” Megan replied from the other end of the couch, “I’ll take my romance wherever I can get it. And speaking of–” she continued, her head rising from off the pillow as she focused on you, “–what’s going on with you and the attractive ex-felon next door?”

Your head shifted on the pillow, your attention turning to your sister. Eyebrows rising onto your forehead, you sent her a questioning look.

“What’re you talking about?” you asked her.

She rolled her eyes, a grin forming on her mouth. One of her feet nudged you in the leg before she shot you a pointed look. “Come on,” she said. “I’ve seen you and him outside chatting a couple of times now.”

“Twice,” you told her. “You’ve seen us chatting twice .”

Her grin widened into something sly. “Birdy says she saw you taking a walk with him the other day,” she shot back. “So spill, sis. Is there some romance going on in your life?”

You stiffened a little at your sister’s words. Birdy had seen you going on a walk with Michael? Well that was news to you. Unwelcome news, too, because you’d clearly done something to end up on her radar. Especially if she was chatting with Megan about you. You’d have to be careful with her.

“No,” you told Megan firmly. “There’s nothing going on there.”

“You think he’s cute?” she pressed.

“Christ, Megan!” you cursed. “What does it matter? I’m literally trying to hide out here, I’m not looking for a boyfriend! You know that!”

It only irritated you further when her smile grew wider.

“You think he’s hot, don’t you?” she teased.

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to the show. Megan nudged you with her foot again. When you didn’t respond, she began to repeatedly poke you with her foot, each time more aggressively than the last.

"Would you stop?" you grumbled. 

"Then answer me, please," she begged. 

With a huff you pushed yourself upright into a sitting position on the couch, glaring at your sister. "He's attractive, yes. Would I fuck him? Absolutely. You happy with that?" you snapped.

Megan gradually pushed herself up on the other end of the couch, her eyes meeting yours. The amused expression that had been there moments ago was quickly replaced with something serious now.

"I just want you to be happy," she said softly. "And it seems like you might be interested in him. Maybe let your guard down with him a bit? That’s all I’m saying."

One of your brows arched up at her. "You're encouraging me to date an ex-felon fresh out of prison," you pointed out. "You know that, right?"

"You and I both know there's more to someone than the mistakes of their past," she replied. "Plus," she added, her lips curling into a coy smile, "Birdy said he seems interested in you."

Your gaze dropped down to your hands where they were fidgeting with the soft, blue blanket. Twisting the fabric between your fingers, you quietly admitted, "He asked me on a date last night."

Megan practically shot herself across the couch at you, the sudden movement startling you. She gripped your shoulders tight in both hands, a bright smile spreading across her face. 

"Please tell me you said yes," she begged. “ Please , for the love of God, tell me you said yes!”

"I told him no," you answered, watching as her face instantly fell. "Meg, I can't date right now. Who knows if I might need to disappear again at a moment’s notice. It would be so much harder if I had feelings for someone. Not to mention, I'd be putting him in danger, too. You know if Victor ever found out I was seeing someone he would certainly go after them."

“Well,” Megan said, “I get the feeling Michael can take care of himself.”

“I don’t want him involved,” you told her.

“He could probably help you,” she pushed.

“I don’t want him involved,” you repeated more firmly.

Her shoulders dropped as she sat back against the couch with a sigh. “Fine, at least tell me how he asked you out?” she asked. “Let me live through you? Because I haven’t been asked out on a date since shortly after I moved here.”

You shrugged, your eyes dropping back down to the blanket. “He just asked if I wanted to get drinks with him. As a thank you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, wait, hold on,” Megan said, abruptly sitting forward again and holding up a hand. “He–he asked you to get drinks as a thank you ? A thank you for what, exactly?” Her eyes widened as she excitedly asked, “Did you give him really good head or something?”

Your gaze instantly snapped up to Megan, your mouth dropping open. “No!” you shrieked. “Christ, get your mind out of the gutter. The man had a seizure the other night–or at least I’m very certain it was. He claims he doesn’t have seizures. But I saw and I helped him. That’s it.”

“You should tell him to get that checked out then,” Megan said, her tone suddenly professional. “If he has epilepsy there’s medication that’ll help.”

“Thanks nurse Megan,” you deadpanned. “I’ll certainly tell him that.”

She waved a dismissive hand at you. “Okay, so he wanted to thank you for helping him. That’s sweet, sis. He sounds sweet.”

“Yeah, he certainly seems that way,” you mumbled, your eyes returning to your fidgeting hands.

Megan bumped your shoulder with hers lightly. “Maybe you should really consider just opening up to him? Tell him the truth about Vic. I’m sure that family is great at keeping secrets with what they probably do. I bet he’d have no trouble keeping yours. And maybe he could help? You can’t exactly spend your entire life on the run, changing names and addresses every few months. That’s not living.”

“I know it’s not,” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes. 

“There’s really no harm in letting him in,” she said softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Telling him the truth. Maybe give him a chance. Who knows, you might end up happy.”

“Or he might end up dead,” you rebutted.

“Hey, you said it yourself,” Megan countered. “Victor doesn’t have the support of the Serpents on this anymore. It’s just him chasing you. They know he’s gone off the rails.”

You ducked your head, eyes dropping down to where your hands were more aggressively worrying the blanket between your fingers. “All the more reason for him to want to kill me and get on with the Club. But honestly, if he said he found me and asked them for help in any way–travel, money, disposing of my fucking body–he’d get help. They won’t actively help him search for me, but they’d certainly have his back.”

“Well I think you should give Michael a chance,” Megan replied. “Tell him the truth. Maybe get ahead of things before the Kinsellas find out you’re not who you say you are. They might be sympathetic–especially the Kinsella that wants to take you out for drinks.”

Eyes slowly shifting towards your sister, you watched her for a moment as you silently contemplated her words. Would Michael be more understanding than you’d initially thought? He had certainly seemed different than you’d envisioned him being. He had come out last night on his own just to check on you. And there was that gentleness you seemed to pick up on from him. Something warm and welcoming that you’d found yourself curious to explore. But would he be safe? Could you actually trust him? Let your guard down with him?

Could he actually hold his own against your ex?

Megan’s loud ringtone blared from her phone on the coffee table, the noise breaking through your thoughts. Your sister slipped her arm from around your shoulders and leaned forward, picking it up. You saw the frown on her lips as she looked at the screen before she answered the call.

“Hey Dev, what’s going on?” Megan asked.

You watched her quietly from your place on the couch, listening in to the one-sided conversation. It was a minute before she was off of the phone, exhaling a long breath. Slowly she turned, sending you a tense smile.

“I’m needed to cover a short shift at the hospital,” she said. 

Your brows furrowed at her words. “But you just got back a couple of hours ago?”

“They’re understaffed,” she said, pushing the blanket from her lap and rising to her feet. “There was a shooting tonight.” She glanced at you, her eyes softening. “Devon said one of the Kinsella’s had been shot and…one of their younger boys had been killed accidentally in the incident.”

Lips parting in surprise, your heart suddenly pounded hard in your chest. “Michael?” you breathed out.

Megan sent you a sad smile, shaking her head. “No, his cousin Eric. But it–it was his nephew that was shot and killed.”

“Shit,” you whispered.

“I uh, I’m going to change and head out,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you told her, waving her off. “Go. I don’t want to hold you up.”

Megan sent you one last smile before she turned, making her way up the stairs and towards her room to change. You sat there on the couch, your eyes on the television but your mind unable to focus on anything but what Megan had just told you. You figured Michael would be hurting tonight once he’d gotten this news. For some reason you couldn’t seem to shake him from your mind, even long after Megan had left for the hospital.

You’d been sitting on your bed for the past couple of hours trying to focus on your writing. Your laptop was situated on your mattress before you, your fingers hovering just over the keys as your eyes stared at the blinking cursor. Truthfully you’d barely managed to write much of anything. You couldn’t concentrate.

Shortly before you’d come upstairs there had been a handful of police down the street, their lights flashing through the front windows of Megan’s house. You’d assumed they were here informing the family of the young boy who’d been killed about the situation, especially considering the heartbreaking scream you’d heard down the street not long after they'd shown up.

You’d come upstairs to get away from the flashing lights, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts you didn’t understand why you were having. You didn’t know Michael or his family that well. This shouldn’t be bothering you as much as it was. And you’d certainly been more closely connected to shootings than this in your past. 

Yet still, here you sat, unable to focus.

A light in Michael’s bedroom turned on, the sudden brightness of it catching your attention. Your eyes flew up from your laptop screen and straight towards his room, your breath catching in your throat. He shuffled into his bedroom, both of his hands covering his face. When he reached his bed, you saw him crumple to his knees–but not as if he was having a seizure. As if the pain of his grief from what had happened to his family tonight had been too much to bear and he’d simply collapsed under the weight of it.

Not even thinking, you closed your laptop, instinctively leaning forward on your bed towards your window. You were gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, your heart twisting in your chest at the sight of Michael. Unlike last time, you couldn’t just hop a fence to get to him. But would he even want you to see him like this? You were still just a stranger to him, after all. Even if he’d been interested enough to ask you on a date. He probably didn’t even know his curtains were open and that you were watching him right now. You should really look away, leave the room and give him his privacy.

But you couldn’t. 

You sat there conflicted on your bed, watching his shoulders shake against the edge of his mattress. It wasn’t until you saw him slide down the side of it, curling into a ball on the floor of his bedroom, that you found yourself climbing off of your bed. 

You didn’t know what it was that had come over you, but you grabbed a knitted cardigan from your closet, threw your arms into it, and then slipped your phone into your pocket. You were rushing out of your bedroom and taking the stairs two at a time soon after. As you passed the kitchen, you grabbed the house key from off of the hook and pushed your way out of the front door. You only paused to quickly lock the door behind you before you were making your way down the driveway, your arms wrapped around your chest to block some of the cold. 

You rounded the stone fence and took a sharp left, making your way up Michael’s empty driveway. Still nervously chewing your lip, you came to a stop in front of his door. Your fist rose towards it, but it hovered in the air for a minute.

Was this too far? Should you just turn back around and head home? Surely he wouldn’t want you banging on his door tonight and bothering him with what was going on. But the image of Michael crumpled on the floor of his bedroom, crying all alone, flashed through your mind. That haunted, despairing look you often caught in his eyes had you wondering how much pain this man held inside and how often he was alone enduring it.

Without another thought, your fist finally closed the remaining distance, three loud knocks ringing out. Your heart began wildly beating in your chest immediately afterwards, your arms hugging yourself a bit tighter as your eyes snapped shut. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

You’d actually just knocked on his door. What the hell were you even going to say ? You hadn’t even thought that far ahead, just strangely drawn here by the desire to help ease his pain somehow and you didn’t even know why. Shrinking in on yourself, you took a step back. This was a bad idea, you thought. It was stupid. You should leave him alone. 

Turning away from his door, you ducked your head and started to make your way back to your place. Though you’d only made it three steps before you heard the door unlock and swing open behind you. You winced, pausing at the sound of his voice.

“Grace?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you slowly turned around. Michael was standing in his doorway dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, his blue and white striped sweater rumpled on his torso. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through it, and you could see the dampness on his cheeks and the redness in his eyes. He looked broken and exhausted from where he stood in the doorway, but it also looked like he was doing his best to bury all of that back down.

“Hey,” you greeted him awkwardly.

“What’re ya–ya doin’ here?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Somethin’–somethin’ wrong? Did ya need help?”

Your lips parted in surprise at his words. With what you knew he had going on, his first thought was to ask if you needed help? For a moment you stood there stunned and speechless as his sorrowful eyes scanned you over. Snapping out of it, you shook your head.

“No, I–” you began, but you quickly stopped yourself.

What the hell did you even say?

Swallowing hard, your mouth felt like it was drying up as your nerves swirled in your gut. In the doorway, Michael’s face fell. He nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to his feet.

“So ya heard, yeah?” he asked quietly.

You nervously shifted your weight from foot to foot as you stood there before him. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted.

He nodded again, his eyes still not focused on you. “Ya come to tell me to stay away? Because I understand, don’t worry. I won’t–”

“No,” you cut him off quickly.

His eyes rose, landing back on yours almost instantaneously. The dark brows on his forehead pulled tight together, a crease forming between them. He looked a mixture of shocked and confused.

“I came to see how you were doing,” you admitted. “Megan–my half-sister–was called back to the hospital. She uh, she mentioned what happened and I–I wanted to make sure you were doing okay…I guess.”

The expression on his face never changed as he stood there leaning against the doorframe. Even in the dim light washing over him from the room behind him, you could see the way his eyes were studying your face very closely.

“Ya came to see if I was okay?” he clarified after a moment.

You shrugged, ducking your head as you ran a hand across your forehead. God you felt dumb. Of course he wasn’t okay. And you sounded like an idiot right now.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you began, feeling the words beginning to tumble out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I heard what happened and I figured you wouldn’t be in a good place when you heard the news. But then I–I saw you in your room.” You shook your head, grimacing as your voice picked up and the word vomit continued to spill out of your mouth. “And I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy or anything, I swear, but your curtains were open and the light turning on caught my attention. I–I was going to leave and give you your privacy but then you just looked so upset that I–I found myself suddenly over here wanting to see if you were okay.” You inhaled a shaky breath, your focus still downcast as your mind screamed at you to stop talking. “It just seemed like maybe you could use some comfort–or maybe to not be alone–but I’m also quite aware of the fact that you barely know me and this is incredibly weird.”

You took a breath, feeling absolutely embarrassed at everything that had just come pouring out of you as you glanced back up at him. He was still standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging open. Confusion and something else was etched very noticeably across his features as he continued to silently gape at you. You immediately felt more ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, this was incredibly weird and intrusive,” you said quickly, taking two steps back. “I’m just–just going to go. Sorry.”

As you were turning to leave, you saw him quickly step out of his house. You paused, your back towards him as your heart hammered heavily in your chest. When he spoke next, you glanced over your shoulder back at him.

“No, stay,” he begged. “Please.”

Michael crossed the bit of distance between the pair of you, your body moving of its own accord and turning back to face him. You could see the glisten of fresh tears in his eyes when he reached you, his lips trembling.

“You’re right,” he breathed out. “I don’t want to be alone. But I–” he paused, his eyes closing as a tear slipped down his cheek, “–I’m always the one expected to be strong.” 

When his eyes opened, they landed back on yours. With the amount of pain so visibly staring back at you through them, it took every ounce of strength to keep from drawing him into a hug and offering some form of physical comfort to him. You knew what that felt like, always needing to be strong even when you felt like you were anything but that.

“D’ya…want to come in?” he asked softly, gesturing his head back to his house. “I know ya said ya weren’t comfortable before but…would that be alrigh’?”

Megan’s words were echoing in your mind from just a few hours ago–she’d urged you to let him in. And now you’d already came over here with the intention of trying to comfort him, why not listen to her a little more? Surely Michael wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you if you went inside with him. Maybe now was an opportunity to trust him just a little more.

“Okay,” you answered softly.

A sad smile tugged up the corners of Michael’s lips just a bit. He nodded once before he turned, trudging his way back into his house. Awkwardly you followed behind, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. When you turned back around, you saw him already making his way down the short hallway into what appeared to be the sitting room at the far end. Slipping off your shoes beside his, you bit your lip and made your way past his kitchen and down the hallway after him, passing by a mirror as you went and cringing at your own disheveled state.

The first thing you noticed in the dimly lit sitting room were the three bullet holes on the wall not too far from his sofa. Near those holes, the wallpaper was peeling up in a few places. Eyes shifting, you spotted the brick fireplace across from his sofa–instantly your eyes were drawn to the unmistakable bullet hole in the brick. Clearly something had happened here, and you assumed whatever it was probably had to do with why Birdy had initially said Michael wouldn’t want to stay in this house. You found yourself curious, but that wasn’t something to be brought up tonight.

Making your way over to the sofa, you sat down near Michael but not quite too close. You felt tense and uncertain, truthfully not sure where to go from here. 

“I’m…sorry about your nephew,” you said slowly, your eyes focused on your hands in your lap. “And your cousin.”

“I was there,” he breathed out.

At his words, your head whipped in his direction. He was focused on his coffee table, his eyes unblinking as he spoke. Your heart was constricting in your chest at the pain emanating from him beside you.

“It was my fault,” he whispered. “Jamie had offered to bring me to the gym tonight.” Michael shook his head, the tears once again welling up in his eyes. “Didn’t even have a license yet. I shouldn’ have let him.” His eyelids slowly lowered as he drew in a shuddering breath. “The bullet wasn't meant for him. It shouldn’–shouldn’ have been Jamie. But he was–was already gone when I realized–”

He broke off mid-sentence, his body folding in half on the sofa as he buried his face in his hands. With tears stinging at your own eyes, you cautiously slid closer towards him on the cushions. Very hesitantly you raised a hand, carefully lowering it to his shoulder.

“It shouldn’ have been him!” he choked out. “He was just a boy!”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Was such a–a good kid,” Michael mumbled. “Whole future ahead of him. Now he’s–he’s just gone .”

You felt a few tears slip out of your own eyes, the back of your right hand raising up to wipe them away. Your left hand began gently rubbing a hesitant but soothing pattern along Michael’s shoulder. You noticed how he quickly leant into your touch, clearly craving the comfort that you figured he must not often receive. Something else you could relate to. 

“And his mother and my brother are–are so heartbroken,” he continued, his voice cracking and muffled behind his hands as he spoke. “Losin' their son. And everyone is–is tellin' me how I need to be there for them. How it's goin' to be so hard on them dealin' with everythin'. But–"

He paused, a sob wracking through him loudly and shaking his shoulder beneath your hand. Your heart ached at the sound, but when he very slowly turned his head from its place in his hands, his body still crumpled in half as he looked up at you beside him, you felt like your heart completely broke. 

His face was streaked in tears, more of them pouring out of his eyes and streaming down his face as he gazed up at you. Michael’s face was twisted and pinched with grief, his lips visibly trembling again. It hurt to see him like this.

"He was mine," he breathed out. 

You stiffened on the sofa at his words when he'd spoken, those three words taking you by surprise. Had you just heard him right?

"Jamie was mine , too," he confessed, his voice hoarse. "It was–was a stupid thing, havin' an affair with my brother's wife back then. But Jaime was my boy, too."

Your face instantly softened as your eyes held his. You couldn't even begin to imagine the emotional pain he must have been experiencing right now after having just witnessed his own son's death in front of him. 

"I'm–I'm so sorry," you whispered. "I–I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

He sent you a sad, watery smile. "The interestin' part about it all is," he said softly, "that out of everyone in my family–all o' them knowin' the damn truth–the only one askin' how I am is…you."

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure how to respond to what he had said or the way in which he was looking at you right now. 

So he'd had an affair with his brother's wife quite a few years back–from the brief glimpse you'd seen of Jaime a few days ago he looked to be about sixteen or seventeen. And apparently that affair all those years ago had resulted in a child. One that everyone in his family apparently knew was his, yet no one thought to offer Michael comfort over his passing? To just ask how he was doing? 

"Birdy she–she was tellin' me I need to be there for Amanda and Jimmy when she picked me up from the station after the questionin' 'bout the shootin'," he continued. "And Amanda–" he paused, his eyes closing as he leaned into your hand on his shoulder further. "She only wanted to know about his last moments. Came over a bit ago to ask how he died. Didn't bother to ask how I was. Not after–after what I'd been through watchin' our son die."

More tears began to fall from his closed eyes, his body slumping further forward as if his grief was pulling him down. You simply gave in to your instincts this time, unable to hold them back. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck, you carefully drew him towards you. Michael didn't protest in the slightest. He easily wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against your shoulder. You could feel the dampness of his tears seeping through your sweater but you didn’t remotely care. You had absolutely no idea what it was drawing you to Michael, what had made you want to be here for this man you barely knew, but it felt right somehow.

“I don’t know why I’m tellin’ ya all this,” he mumbled against you, his words almost mirroring your thoughts. “Probably shouldn’ be. Sure you’re not warmin’ up to me hearin’ all this. Sleepin’ with my brother’s wife. My son gettin’ shot tonight.”

“That was years ago,” you replied, holding him to you. “And not really any of my business, either. And you’ll come to find I’m…quite open-minded to people’s pasts.”

Michael huffed out a laugh, his warm breath grazing your neck. “Got me wonderin’ what that means, Grace,” he mused.

The corner of your lip pulled up ever so slightly, your right hand sliding up from its place along his back and up into his hair. Your fingers lightly carded through the dark strands, feeling a bit of tension ease from him as he relaxed further into you. 

“It’s not really important at the moment,” you whispered.

Michael's head shifted on your shoulder, goosebumps rising along your forearms under your sweater the moment his lips briefly grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, his beard faintly rasping against you. Your eyes fell closed, wondering momentarily why it felt so good having this almost stranger in your arms, especially under the circumstances.

“Why’d ya come check on me?” he murmured.

“I don’t–don’t really know,” you admitted. 

There was a moment of silence that fell between the pair of you before Michael slowly raised his head from your shoulder, drawing back from you just a bit. His eyes met yours and your heart stuttered in your chest at the way he was looking at you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Why’d ya stay?” he whispered.

Swallowing hard, you felt yourself once again getting lost in his eyes. Besides the obvious pain and sadness reflecting back at you, it looked like something else was slowly surfacing as they held onto yours. Something that looked a lot like hope.

“Because it seemed like you needed someone,” you answered.

One of his hands released you, unwinding its way from around your waist and slowly reaching up. Hesitantly he gently cupped your cheek in his large, warm palm. That sad smile returned to his mouth, his eyes still locked on yours. You didn’t know why your pulse was racing with him touching you so tenderly, in a way you’d never really been touched before. And you didn’t know why you were suddenly feeling things you probably shouldn’t have been feeling, either.

“Thank you,” he said firmly, enunciating the words purposefully. “For bein’ here when no one else ever has been.”

His thumb lightly stroked along your cheekbone, the calloused pad rough on your skin but somehow soothing. You found yourself overcome with the urge to lean in and kiss him–and that had certainly startled you. But for some reason, you weren’t bolting out of the front door like you should have been doing. Instead, your mouth was saying things it had no right to be saying.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me to be,” you told him.

And the ensuing warm smile that slipped onto his face at your words, despite the tears welling back up in his eyes, had you meaning every word of what you’d said. 

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin fanfiction

[withwritersblock]

Love You Goodbye

~Love You Goodbye by One Direction~

Author's Note: listen it started out as something else and then it became the song by one direction. as always italics are flashbacks Summary: Kirby and Y/N break up Warnings: shouting, swearing, implied smut Word Count: 1,491 Kirby Dach x fm!reader

It had been a miserable few days. He was staying with Cole instead of his own apartment with his girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, he wasn’t sure which one she was. Cole walked into his kitchen, yawning dramatically as he stretched his arms out. 

“You’re still on my couch,” Cole rasped out as he walked towards his coffee maker on the counter. Kirby forced a smile as he sat up, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“You said I could stay as long as I need,” Kirby mumbled as he took a sharp breath. 

Cole chuckled dryly before he spoke, “I said that because I thought you’d come to your senses and go back to your girlfriend.” Cole pulled two mugs from his cabinet as he started the pot of coffee. Kirby clenched his jaw. “I mean have you even tried to talk to her?”

He tilted his head back against the couch as he held the phone against his ear, hearing it ring and ring for the fifth time that morning. He clenched his jaw as he heard her voicemail again. He rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw. After the beep he let out, “Baby, please-please call me back. Can we just talk?” 

“Yes, I’ve called her a thousand times and left like ten voicemails. She’s the one who hasn’t returned my calls.” Kirby countered as he ran his fingers through his hair. He tilted his head back as he watched Cole walk towards the couch with two mugs in his hand.

“Aren’t you the one that picked a fight?” Cole said as he handed Kirby the Suzuki mug. Kirby took it and rolled his eyes. “You started the argument and left, she has no reason to call you back,” Cole countered. Kirby took a sip of the coffee.

“Are you going to practice today?” she asked as she mixed the protein pancake batter she was making for themselves. Kirby shrugged his shoulders as he kept his gaze on his phone. “I’m sure the guys want to see you,” 

“I’m not in the mood,” he mumbled as he tossed his head back. She stared towards him, furrowing her eyebrows harshly.

“Do you have any one-on-one work today?” she asked as she poured some batter on the pan. 

“Not today, I’m gonna shower, I’ll eat later,” he snapped as he stood up from the couch.

“What is going on with you?” she questioned. He huffed as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m tired of you breathing down my neck! I don’t need you smothering me!” he shouted as he shook his head. She blinked rapidly as she nodded her head.

“I’m just trying to help you!” she countered.

“I don’t need your help, alright?! I’m tired of you asking every day how I am feeling, or if I’m going to practice or if I am feeling stronger! I’m so tired of everything coming out of your mouth being about the injury.”

“It’s all that’s on your mind, isn’t it?!” she shouted back, turning the stove off, “You are not you anymore! I’m sorry that I am trying to get my boyfriend back!”

“That’s such bullshit, just say that you don’t want me unless I’m playing!” he shouted walking towards her. She shook her head as she let out a breathy laugh. 

“Oh come on, Kirby! Do you really think that?” she said as she felt tears fill her eyes, “Do you seriously think that I am that shallow?!” 

“I don’t know! I mean all you ever talk about is how my damn leg is feeling!” 

“Has the thought ever crossed your mind that maybe I fucking care about you?! Maybe I just keep asking you about it because I know that is what is on your mind twenty-four-seven!” she shouted back. 

“It is on my mind all the fucking time, so maybe shut up about it!” he countered. 

She clenched her jaw as she met his gaze and felt her tears fall onto her cheek, “You know what, I will shut up about it. I want you gone,” she mumbled as she took a step towards him, scanning his features. 

“What?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

“Go stay with Cole or Nick or whoever! I don’t care!” she shouted again. 

“She asked me to leave,” Kirby said to Cole as he took another sip of coffee. Cole rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you said she was smothering you,” Cole let out. Kirby took a sharp breath as his phone started vibrating beside him. He panicked as he reached for his phone to see Y/N was calling him back.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he mumbled as he carefully placed the mug on the coffee table as he stood up bringing the phone to his ear, “Hey, I’m so sorry,” he muttered walking towards Cole’s bedroom to get some privacy.

“Hey, I’ve got my stuff packed up; you can come back to-”

“What-what are you talking about?” he asked as he felt his heart slamming against his chest. “What are you packing your stuff up for?”

“Kirby, I’m tired of being your punching bag when things go bad. I’m done,” she let out teary eyed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, please don’t leave. Stay there, I’ll be right there and we can talk about it-”

“Kirby-”

“Please, let me make it up to you.” he begged as he walked out of Cole’s bedroom quickly. He reached for his keys on the counter as well as the slides sitting besides the front door. “I promise, just let me make it up to you, please,” 

“Kirby, I can’t. I can’t do this again-”

“It’ll be the last time, I’m sorry-”

“I can’t,” Y/N said before she hung up the phone. 

“Y/N, no-” he muttered as he pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck,” he mumbled. 

~~~

He walked into his apartment, teary eyed with the bag he brought over to Cole’s apartment. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his bag beside the counter, he lifted his gaze to see Y/N sitting on the couch. “Y/N, you’re still here,” he mumbled, breathy feeling his chest tighten. He walked quickly towards her as he sat down beside her. She lifted her head from her hands. 

“I was going to leave,” she let out while shaking her head, “And then I saw this,” she mumbled as she pointed towards the picture frame.

It was a photo of them on his draft day. He was wearing the Blackhawks jersey over his suit and the blackhawks hat on his head. He had a wide grin on his face as he was holding up the number three. He was squeezing her tightly to his side as she was squinting her eyes tightly with a wide smile. 

“I asked you to move to Chicago with me,” he muttered before he pressed his lips together. “And you did,” he hummed. She nodded her head slightly as her lips quivered. “I got traded to Montreal and you dropped everything to come with me,” he let out barely above a whisper. 

She met his gaze, his eyes were teary as he inched closer to her. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. 

“I know,” she mumbled as he hesitantly raised his hand and took a hold of her cheek. She tilted her head into his hand as she looked into his eyes. She leaned towards him and delicately kissed him. Her body straightened as she relaxed with his lips attached to hers. She adjusted her frame as she climbed onto his lap. Their lips remained connected as he cautiously ran his hands over her hips.

She pulled away as she rested her forehead against his, as their breath quickened. “Kirby,” she muttered as her lips quivered.

“I know,” he mumbled as he looked over her features. Her eyes stared towards his lips as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said before he tilted his head back.

She rested both of her hands on his neck, “It was the best five years of my life, Kirby,” she said with a sad smile. He nodded.

“Mine too, I don’t know if I could’ve survived it without you,” he muttered as he looked deeply into her eyes. The last five years flashing in his mind. Moving in together at just eighteen. The countless injuries and the shock of the trade to Montreal. Moving to a place where they barely speak the language. The love they shared poured out in one moment. 

“One more,” she let out as her lips were brushing against Kirby’s. He urgently kissed her back, His hands holding her head in place as she grinded her hips against him. He was kissing her with so much passion and need that it felt like the world was ending. And maybe it was.

#kirby dach #kirby dach x reader #kirby dach imagines #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #nhl fic #montreal canadiens #montreal canadiens x reader #montreal canadiens imagines #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield imagines #juraj slafkovsky

[pensat-i-fet]

A familiar face (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**I found this on my drafts and thought it could work for the request I got of writing something that involved some cute interactions with kids. I can try something else in the future if this isn’t good enough. And I hope everyone enjoys it anyways!! ❤️❤️**

Word count: 2512

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Auntie, please!!”, I hear my niece begging for the 20th time in the last two minutes.

“Leah, leave your aunt alone. If it was just you it’d be fine, but you can’t ask her to babysit your entire friend group”, I hear my brother say.

My niece Leah got tickets to go watch the next Manchester City match from one of her friends. She and two more friends want to go but neither my brother nor his wife can go to the match with them. So she wants me to take three kids with me to a stadium where there’ll be thousands of people. And a lot of them will be half-drunk by 3 pm. 

“Richie’s dad can come with us. Pleaaaaase!”

The idea of taking so many kids to a match terrifies me, but seeing the tears in my 8-year-old niece's eyes is a lot worse.

“Ok, I’ll take you”, I say to her. 

“You sure?”, asks my brother. But it’s too late to change my mind. I’ve already been tackled to the floor by Leah.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

And that’s how I find myself driving three kids and an adult I have never met before to the Etihad on a Sunday. 

“Don’t worry about them too much”, tells me Richie’s dad. “I’ll keep them in check. You enjoy the match too”.

The seats are in the fourth row. I’ve been to the Etihad before but never in such great seats.

Leah, Richie and Amanda sit in between Richie’s dad and me, to make sure we can keep an eye on them more easily. 

“Auntie! Can we get some food?”, asks Leah when the players are coming out to do their warm-up.

“Sure, what do you guys want? Also, what are you guys allowed to eat?”

To that, Richie’s dad laughs. “Burgers and fries should be fine. Maybe something sweet for the second half if everyone behaves, ok?”

They all nod and I move to go back inside and get the food for everyone.

When I get to the lower area of the stands, I turn to look at the pitch before heading to the stairs. The players are all divided into three groups, each doing a different type of exercise to warm up. 

Before I turn again to leave, I notice one of them looking at where I am. I look behind me to see who he might be looking at and find no one. But when I look back at him, he’s gone. 

“Here you go”, I say, trying to give everyone their food and not drop it. It was a struggle to bring it all back by myself.

“Thanks!!”, they all say in unison. They really want those sweets.

“Auntie”, says Leah, “who is your favourite City player?”

“Um…not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had the chance to watch them a lot this year but I guess De Bruyne is still a good answer, right?”

“Yes!!”, screams Richie, who is wearing his De Bruyne shirt.

“I like Mahrez”, says Amanda.

“Great choice!”, tells her Richie’s dad. “What about you Leah?”

“I would usually say Bernardo but I think I like Rúben Dias better today”.

“Why is that?”, I ask her.

“Because he’s going to give me his shirt after the match”.

I look at her confused. Where is she getting those ideas from? I don’t want her to think it’ll happen and then be sad when it doesn’t.

“Maybe he will, yes. But if he doesn’t it’s ok”, I say.

“No, I know he will”.

“Leah…”

“She’s right”, says Richie’s dad, surprising me. “He told her he would while you were gone”.

Now I really am confused. 

When the teams go out to start playing, I lean down and whisper to Leah. “Which one is Dias?”

I really haven’t been watching them in the last couple of seasons. I’m not super familiar with the new players.

“Number 3. He’s looking at us right now”, she says, pointing at one of the players.

When I look up, I see she’s right. And I see that it’s the same player I saw looking my way before.

The match ends with a 3-0 win for City. And by that time, I’m more than ready to go home. The kids have been good, but they are a lot of work.

I’m so tired I actually forget about Leah and her deal with Dias. But she hasn’t forgotten, of course. And neither has he.

He approaches our area, pointing at Leah and asking her to come closer. She grabs my hand and runs downstairs.

“Hi, what’s your name?”, asks her Rúben.

“Leah. And this is my auntie”.

When she says that, he looks at me and I don’t really know what to do anymore. Not only is he ridiculously good-looking, but he also has one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen. And he’s directing that smile at me right now. 

“Hi”, he says to me.

“Hi”, I say back, surprised I managed to get a word out.

“So, can I have your shirt?”, asks Leah, interrupting the moment.

“Of course”, he says, giving Leah another smile. A different type of smile, though. 

When he takes his shirt off, I try to look away. I’ve always had a thing for tall and strong men like him. 

“Did you enjoy the match?”, I hear Rúben say. And when I look at him, I realise the question is directed at me, not Leah.

“Yes. It was great. You were all great”.

“Auntie, we need to go. Richie’s dad is calling us”.

I turn to make a gesture to Richie’s dad, letting him know we’ll be there in a second. And then turn back to Rúben, who is still there, looking at me.

“Thanks for the shirt. We have to go”.

“Right”, he says, looking unsure of himself all of a sudden. “I hope I get to see you, both of you, at another match”.

And with that, he runs to join his teammates. What did just happen?

                                       **

Working at a bookstore is a bit of a dream for me. I get to be surrounded by books and get a discount when buying them. And of course, I buy way more than I should. I love chatting with customers about the novels they want to buy and helping them discover some hidden gems. I even advised my bosses to create a "staff recommends" shelf where we could put all our favourites so customers could ask us about them. And it's definitely helped increase the sale of some more unknown books.

I am on that shelf now, talking to a lady about why the book Stephanie recommends will be great for her grandchildren. Once I've convinced the lady to buy not only that first book but the second and third in the series too, Steph herself comes to the area where I’m working at the moment with an annoyed look on her face.

"Something wrong?", I ask.

"It's madness down there", she sighs. "There is someone famous and people are fighting to get photos taken with him".

"Someone famous?", I ask, curious as to who could come to our little shop. "Like, an author?"

We sometimes get authors coming to the store to sign some of their novels, so that's my first thought.

"No, I don't know who he is but even the children are going mad".

"That's intriguing. How about you stay here and I go to your place so I can see this famous guy. Now I'm curious", I laugh.

"Go ahead. I'm not coming downstairs until he leaves. Two kids stepped on my feet to get to him", says Steph, rubbing her feet with a painful look.

"I'll be careful", I say with a chuckle while I make my way downstairs.

I'm not even halfway down when I see him. The guy everyone wants a photo with is none other than Rúben.

I freeze and just stare at him, smiling and taking photos with everyone. Being particularly cheerful for the adoring children.

"Sorry, miss, I need to go downstairs", I hear being said behind me. When I turn around, I see a woman waiting for me to move since I'm blocking the stairs.

"Of course, sorry. You go first", I tell her, moving to the side.

I move to Steph's checkout area, trying not to look at Rúben. And trying to control my nerves. 

"Hello?"

When I hear the voice, I look up from the computer to find Rúben staring at me, with five books in his hands. 

"Hi. Can I help you?", I say, trying to remain professional and not show my shock at him being here. He won't even remember me anyway.

"I would like to pay for these", he says with a smile. He's even closer than he was at the match. And he's even more gorgeous dressed in an all-black outfit than he was with his sky blue City kit.

"Of course", I say before I start to scan the books. "This one is great", I say, noticing he picked one of my recommendations from last month.

"I'll have to read that one first then", he says, making me look at him again. He seems to be looking at my face trying to find something there. So I look down again, nervously.

"Do you have a loyalty card?"

"I do but I don't have it with me now".

"Oh that's ok", I tell him. "Just tell me your phone number and I'll find your profile in our system".

When I find it, I look up at him and ask. "Rúben, right?"

"Yes. But you already knew that".

"I'm sorry?", I say, shocked by his comment.

"We talked at the match the other day when I gave my shirt to your niece. I know you know who I am", he says, laughing at my expression.

"Right. Yeah. Um…I did not expect you to remember me", I say, blushing fiercely. "There were thousands of people there".

"Yes, but some faces are easier to remember than others", he says, leaning closer.

When I look into his eyes, I lose the sense of time and place for a second. Until I start to notice how long the line behind him is.

"Um…right. Are you paying with card or cash?"

"Card, please".

"Of course, it's ready now".

"You know", he says while entering his pin number in the machine, "since you know my number now from the loyalty card, maybe you could use it to let me know more book recommendations".

What?

"I don't think I'm allowed to use the client's private information for personal purposes", I tell him putting his receipt in his bag and giving it to him.

"You got my permission to do it", he says with a big smile. "Bye, hope to see you soon. It was nice to find a familiar face here today".

"Bye…thanks for…umm…the purchase", do I know words?

He just smiles again and leaves. I turn slightly to watch him walk to the front door when I hear a throat being cleared.

Right, I'm still at work. I forgot for a second.

“Sorry, sir. How can I help you?”

                                       **

A couple of days later, I’m putting some new releases on the shelf when I hear Stephanie approaching and talking to someone else.

“Yes, there she is! She’ll be able to help you”.

“Thanks”.

I turn to look at who’s talking to find Rúben looking at me, a big smile on his face.

“You didn’t give me those book recommendations I asked for, so I had to come back to get them. The book you told me was good was incredible. I read it in one sitting”.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it”, I tell him, moving away from the mountain of books I still need to sort out. “But…this feels a bit stalkerish. No offence!”

He just laughs and raises his hands.

“I get it. It does. But I swear I didn’t know you worked here. That was a coincidence. A great one, I might add”.

To that, I look down to hide my blush.

“So”, he continues, “can you recommend more books to me or not?”

“Sure, that’s what I’m here for. Let me tell one of my colleagues to continue sorting this pile before”.

"Were you looking for some romance?", I say, pointing at the first section we walk past.

He looks at me with a small smirk on his face. I guess he got the double meaning. "Maybe, but not in my books".

"You don't fancy reading about a hot Duke that will make you swoon?", I say, holding a copy of Bridgerton.

"Not today", he laughs.

"Yeah, not my thing either".

"What type of books do you like?", he asks me.

"Literary fiction, fantasy, maybe some romance…it depends on my mood, really. I even read horror sometimes. Even though I'm a baby who can't watch horror movies".

"I might be interested in horror. But I'll need someone to hold my hand while I read in case I get scared".

When I turn to look at him, I notice how close he is.

"You've got plenty of big teammates that can do that for you I think".

He laughs. "Not what I had in mind".

Twenty minutes later, I walk Rúben to the checkout so he can pay for all the books he’s buying today. 

“Do you have a piece of paper?”, he asks.

“Sure”.

“Ok, here is my number. I gave it to you. And I want you to use it, ok?”

“I don’t know. I…”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No”, I say.

“Girlfriend?”

“Not one of those either”.

“So would you like to come on a date with me?”, he says.

As always, I want to overthink this. But what is it to overthink? A handsome, nice and smart guy wants to go on a date with me. 

“Yes”, I say, smiling at him.

“Perfect. Then text me your number and we’ll talk more about it”.

I nod, giving him his bag full of books.

“Do you actually want all those books or did you just buy them to have an excuse to talk to me?”

“Oh, I want them. But it’ll take me a year to read all of these. Another trip to try to woo you and I’ll have enough books to last me my entire life”, he says, blushing slightly.

I laugh at his words and say goodbye to him.

When I turn back to go upstairs and finish the job I was doing, Stephanie stops me.

“That’s the famous guy from the other day”, she says.

“Yes”.

“And he was flirting with you the whole time. How do you know famous people? And what does he even do to be famous?”

“Footballer. I met him when I took Leah to a match”.

“Shut up! Are you dating a football player?”

“I’m not dating anyone”, I laugh.

“He looked like he’d be happy to change that”, she winks before leaving.

I guess he did.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias x yn #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer fluff #footballer fanfiction #foootballer fanfic #footballer one shot

[12loona]

[TRANS] 230115 | YeoJin’s Fab message on the lawsuit

YeoJin:

Orbit, are you asleep? I was watching videos of our performances.. After going back and forth between crying and laughing while watching these, my head hurts so much you know? What if I can never get back on the stage.. This anxious thought keeps circling in my head and I don’t know what to do. Tour videos, group and solo fancams from the music shows we’ve done, the concert we did after coming back to Korea, videos of us that Orbits made for us, there are so many videos. I’m so thankful to Orbits who made me memories again just today, you know...? Watching the fancams makes me tear up because I want to get back on the stage.. I want to do concerts again and music shows and fansigns and fan meetings and so many things I want to do from one to ten.. I’m so frustrated and upset and angry.. I’m so sorry to bring up something like this late at night.. I know Orbits are having a hard time too and I’m so sorry to make you read something like this. I’ve never been this desperate before, from where to where did things go wrong.. I don’t know.. I’m so afraid that I’ll never get to see Orbits again.. Orbits I miss you so so much I get so hung up over how I didn’t tell you more often that I love you, and I’m just so full of guilt that I didn’t make you happier, so I think right now is the moment that I would like to erase the most.. It’s dark right now. I want to go back to the days when it was bright. Let’s go back together..

English translation © LitellJohnn

Admin note: Please send Yeojin (and the other girls too of course, but Yeojin as the priority at the moment) supportive messages via Fab, only if you have points to spare. Let her know she has hundreds of thousands of Orbits who are willing to stand by her and the other girls’ side forevermore and that we love them all dearly. That we will be proud of them and happy for them whatever they do. That they have never been a disappointment. That they don’t need to apologise. This is such a tough time for the twelve of them right now, and my heart hurts so much for all them, and they need all the support they can get from Orbits.

#loona #yeojin #t:official #t:fab #era: boycott #230115 #admin note

[twinleafteaa]

🔅⚔️The smile of a thousand suns⚔️🔅

Zolu Fanfic (Zoro X Luffy) ⚔️👒

A/N: This is my first time posting a fic here and I’m really excited to show off this fic since it’s something I’ve been working on for a while - the accuracy of this fic might not be too good since I’ve just finished Skypiea! So forgive me for that!!

I’ll be posting all chapters here soon and I’ll also be putting this Fic of A03 as well!

I hope you guys enjoy! 💕

🔅☁️ Chapter 1: This feeling ☁️🔅

The fight against Kaido was over.

In the sky was a figure. A figure of pure joy.

Fluffy white hair with the texture of clouds swayed in the cold breeze. A stern expression laid upon the beings face as he exhaled in exhaustion, his gaze locked onto where the defeated dragons body once lay.

Gently, He floated down to the ground , with the clouds surrounding him dancing. Even after a tremendous battle, the energy was still so high. The navy sky enveloped the surrounding, dampening everything but the sun himself - Monkey D. Luffy.

He turned his head to look behind at his crew, stunned with awe.

Running, each foot pounding into the ground with immense passion - the captain dashed towards his crew.

“Zoro!!” Luffy exlaimed beaming with joy. He ran towards his loyal crew member with a large smile. Zoro was at the front of the crew, one of his swords unsheathed In case his captain was in need of back up.

“Luffy - are you okay?” The stern swordsman asked with concern.

Luffy Jumped onto zoro’s arms with beaming laughter. The sheer power caused zoro to fully embrace him and swing his captain round. A wash of pink dusted his cheeks as his eyes met Luffy’s.

“Of course I’m okay!” Luffy giggled as he began to float again but still holding onto zoro’s hands. “Not even a scratch!”

It seemed zoro was lost for worst - the pure happiness emanating off Luffy was euphoric. All he could do was press his lips together and smile contently.

“Now don’t let go…or other wise I’ll fly away like a ballon.” Luffy joked. Both Nami and Ussop ran over with similar happy expressions.

“That was incredible!” Nami congratulated. Ussop nodded in agreement.

“Thanks! I couldn’t have done it with out you guys…really!” Luffy replied as he brought himself down from floating, both feet now planted on the ground.

“Just watching you fight made me out of breath.” Ussop added.

“Sanji and chopper are back at the ship - you deserve a good rest.” Nami informed.

As Luffy was listening, Zoro noticed the twos hands were still together and quickly pulled them away, the pink on his cheeks getting darker.

“Nami’s right.” Zoro agreed with a nod. “This is the first time I’ll agree with her - that fight looked like it took a lot out to you.”

“Took a lot out of me? Haha! Have you seen me!?” Luffy grinned. “This is my peak!”

A booming laugh escaped from Luffy’s mouth.

“Will you promise to calm down if Sanji makes you some food?” Nami rolled her eyes.

“As much I’d like to - as soon as you mentioned food my energy went up tenfold!” Luffy continued to giggle.

“Well to burn that energy of yours how about a race to the ship! Last one there is a rotten elephant tuna!” Ussop smiled before dashing off.

A race? The goal was to calm Luffy down not excite him even more.

Nami liked the idea and sprinted off, catching up with Ussop in no time.

“Aren’t you gonna run after them?” Zoro asked, noticing Luffy’s lack of movement.

“I’ve won already today.” He smiled, looking up at the swordsman. “And plus I have to make sure you don’t get lost.”

“It’s a straight sprint to the port -“ zoro began, interrupted by Luffy’s disbelieving expression.

“Hold my hand - that way you won’t get lost.” Luffy offered, his small hand open.

“W-what!? I told you I won’t get lost.” Zoro growled.

“Take my hand - it’s an order.” Luffy said with a mischievous grin.

The two made their way to the ship. although silent, the walk was filled with relief and comfort.

“Now that the ship is in viewing distance let’s see which one of us is faster!” Luffy smiled up at his green haired peer.

“You sure you wanna race? You pester me to rest all the time - don’t you think it’s time for me to do the same?” Zoro replied with a small grin.

“Well…are you suggesting that my dear second in command carry his exhausted leader back to the ship~” Luffy joked, holding onto zoro’s shoulder and hand before dropping all off his weight, relying on zoro’s strength to keep him up.

“Don’t to that - you’ll fall.” The stern swordsman rolled his eyes.

“Won’t you carry me~?” Luffy teased playfully

“If it stops you from running around and will calm you down.”

“Wait!-“

Zoro suddenly lifted Luffy up and hauled him over his shoulder. The blush on zoro’s face continued to get deeper and deeper the more Luffy teased.

“No! Wait!! This isn’t what I meant!!” Luffy exclaimed

“I don’t care if this isn’t what you meant - this is what you get.”

“You’re handling your captain like a sack of potatoes!!”

“Shut up will you!” Zoro growled lightheartedly as he continued to walk.

The two approached the ship. Zoro looked over his shoulder to Luffy before scooping him up like a cat and dropping him onto the ground.

“Omphf- hehe, I guess you aren’t willing to carry me up?” Luffy giggled.

“Nope - you don’t seem exhausted at all so you can make your own way up.” Zoro replied bluntly with a small smile he was trying to hide.

“Okay!” Luffy beamed as he stretched one arm up to the side of the ship.

All of a sudden zoro could feel something wrap around him in seconds - it was luffy’s other arm and before he could react he and his captain were flung up into the cold night sky.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING!?” Zoro yelled and he grabbed onto Luffy’s arm that was coiled around his waist.

“I’m burning my energy- like you wanted!” Luffy laughed without a care in the world.

“I know full well flinging us into the air doesn’t burn your energy.” Zoro rolled his eyes.

“Cmon, at least like- pretend to be scared.” Luffy pouted.

“With the amount of times you’ve hurdled me off this ship - im used to it.”

“You’re no fun.” Luffy huffed childishly.

Both luffy and zoro plummeted down from the sky, both unphased, but a tremendous laugh could be heard coming from Luffy which seemed to calm down as he turned the fast falling into a graceful float down onto the ship. His pure white hair began to flow as the wind grew stronger - despite everyone’s best efforts to tire their captain out nothing had worked.

Luffy swiftly uncoiled his arm from around zoro and met everyone with a beaming grin.

“Way to be dramatic.” Ussop remarked.

“Uwwah!!” A cute voice could be heard as well as small footsteps. Chopper has ran out from inside, followed by robin. “You look amazing!!” He squealed with happiness.

“Aw hehe geez guys!” Luffy blushed shyly.

“Tell us all about it.” Robin nodded.

The captains eyes lit up like stars. To retell the exhilarating battle was an honor.

“This power - it feels like pure euphoria is flowing through me - haha! Kaido had no chance!” Luffy explained. He began to twirl around and jump around as he told the story of the fight, trying to reenact it. “I am at my greatest!” He yelled with such passion as he did one last move. With such force, he swung is arm back and punched the air with a smile.

Chopper looked up in awe while Robin was nodding with an approving smile although she couldn’t quite piece together Luffy’s story as he spoke so fast.

Suddenly, zoro grabbed luffy’s fist and pried it open.

“Wh-what are you-!?” Luffy slightly jumped back, startled.

“What have I said about your grip - look your nails have dug into your palms again.” Zoro lectured. Luffy snatched his hand back in response, rolled his eyes and made a goofy dismissive expression.

“Foods ready everyone!” Sanji called mere seconds before walking out from the kitchen with plates of a range of meat and roasted vegetables. Zoomed over to the long table that had been set out onto the deck for the feast.

“You’re not gonna sit at the head of the table?” Sanji asked as he put down the food.

“Nope!” Luffy said awfully bluntly, enjoying sitting on the center on one of the sides of the table. Zoro couldn’t help but smile to himself in response to Luffy’s bluntness.

Zoro took the chair from the head of the table and moved it to one side to even out the chairs - he sat down adjacent to the captain, looking him up and down as his cloud- like form still hadn’t calmed down.

Ussop sat one side of Luffy and Nami the other and both Chopper and Robin sat either side of Zoro while the other filled up the other seats.

“To start we have a selection of barbecued meat, covered in Honey, Tangerine and chili sauce as well as roasted vegetables as a side with a soy drizzle - is everyone here wanting Sake?” Sanji proudly explained. Luffy nodded eagerly - ready to tuck in.

Once the sake was brought out the crew grew more and more lively. Good thing sanji was prepared for such a celebration as Luffy wouldn’t stop eating and both he and Zoro seemed to be in an unspoken contest on who could drink the most.

“You are such a lightweight!” Zoro exlaimed with a competitive grin. Factually he was right - luffy wasn’t one to really drink so when he did, it’s affects took hold rather quickly.

“Shut up mosshead! If this was an eating contest I’d have already beaten you into the ground!” Luffy growled being shoveling a freshly made plate of rice balls which was about the twelfth course Luffy has consumed.

“I bet you’ll only be able to handle one more bottle!” Zoro taunted. And In response, Luffy began to chug about three more bottles in spite.

“Woah slow down Luffy! I’ve never seen you drink this much before!” Ussop warned.

“Me neither! This can’t be good for you.” Chopper worried.

“Bleh ~ slowing down is for the weak.” Luffy shrugged off.

The night went on and as the sky grew darker, Luffy’s laughter got louder. At this point he was incredibly drunk after loosing the contest against zoro.

“I don’t - I don’t understand how you can be so normal acting~” Luffy admitted as his words were slurring. One of his arms was around Ussops shoulders as he insisted the captain must dance - Luffy agreed to this sentiment and insisted on pushing past the dizziness.

“You hardly drink - so it affects you more.” Zoro explained, watching as Luffy stumbled around.

“Well I wish it didn’t.” Luffy groaned.

“I swear to god if you throw up all the food I made you - I’ll throw you overboard.” Sanji said, lighting a cigarette as he approached zoro and Luffy.

“Go make him some tea. Nami said there’s a storm expected tomorrow midday so we gotta be out here my morning.” Zoro ordered “so we’re gonna need our captain.” He continued, glaring and Luffy.

“Ay! Why are you looking at me with thoes eyes?” Luffy retorted defensively.

Sanji took that as his sign to leave.

“Sorry Luffy! But Me and Franky are gonna go set off fireworks hehe!” Ussop smiled before letting go of Luffy and running off.

“Woah woah - I got you.” Zoro said as he grabbed his captain by the shoulders before he could trip over himself in a dazed state. Luffy put his hands to zoro’s chest before tiredly looking up. “You okay?” Zoro asked.

Luffy looked up. His eyes met with the swordsman. His face suddenly washed with red.

Everything is his body dropped.

The majestic pure white cloudy hair fell to grey, then to black - the clouds that surrounded him melted away. His expression dropped to one of fear.

“Luffy?” Zoro spoke

Luffy stumbled back and the silence seemed to get a few of the crews attention.

“Hey Luffy? Your forms gone?” Nami chimed in, looking concerned.

“Everything okay luffy?” Ussop asked.

“You look awfully pale.” Chopper added.

With such a small glance - things came crashing down. The power, the energy, the confidence…all gone in an instant

“Luffy. Answer me.” Zoro ordered with a strong tone - although it was the voice he’d least liked to hear in that moment it was the one he needed.

“I…I” luffy stammered. “Ow ow~ my head!” He quickly switched up. A sigh of relive flooded the ship.

“That’s it you need to sit down.” Zoro replied - it was more than needing to sit down. Luffy was on the verge of collapse.

Zoro sat Luffy down in one of the chairs by the dining table while chopper ran over to the two in concern. Sanji soon came over with ginger tea which was the crews go to hangover cure.

“Luffy are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been drunk for hours what changed?” Chopper asked.

“I-I’m not sure.” Luffy lied. “I feel so exhausted.”

“Maybe all the jumping around finally tired you out.” Zoro joked However, Luffy couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

“You should really rest.” Chopper advised. Luffy was against this idea.

Having to cut short the celebration for any reason made Luffy sad. He loved seeing his crew have so much fun. To stop it seemed cruel.

“No…” he muttered under his breath.

“Hm?” Zoro hummed in confusion.

“I don’t…I don’t want the celebration to end - I’m fine! Really!” Luffy tired to smile but everyone around knew it was one of tiredness.

“No you’re sitting still even if we have to restrain you.” Zoro frowned.

“But what about ussops fireworks - I’ve gotta be up for the fireworks!”

“Fine but after that you need sleep.” Chopper agreed. “You look so pale and your eyes look so…dull.” He continued.

“Gee thanks…” luffy rolled his eyes before getting up and walking off toward, Ussop and Franky.

Chopper looked intently at his captain, he knew something wasn’t right and zoro watched too with an annoyed expression that Luffy was so quick to dismiss his loss of power.

“Almost done - just gotta light them hehe!” Ussop muttered in excitement. “ Stand back everyone! This is a very treacherous job you know!”

Luffy took a couple of steps back while the rest of the crew came together around him to watch the fireworks.

With one…okay more like seven strikes of the match, ussop lit the fuse and cowardly ran back to watch the colorful fireworks go off. Everyone gazed is amazement and cheers flooded the ship.

Although things didn’t feel right.

Luffy stood there, silently.

At a time like this he’d be bouncing all over the place but right now - it’s like that part of him was missing. At a time where everyone was at their happiest. He felt nothing.

It was like something within him had been lost.

As the crew was in awe of the fireworks, Luffy stumbled into the boy’s bedroom and onto the closest bed - which happened to be Zoro’s. Luffy growled in anger and tried to get up to his own bed but to no avail.

His legs as lost all strength and he began to get frustrated, digging his feet against the floor to hold him up.

The idea of not being able to stand up on his own made Luffy incredibly angry.

“What’s going on in here?” A voice said from the doorway. It was zoro. Stupid zoro.

“Go away…” luffy mumbled

“You’re drunk, tired and stumbling all over the place-“

“I SAID GO AWAY!” Luffy snapped, before getting to his feet mostly. The captains yells didn’t phase zoro at all.

A cold silence hung in the air.

“Leave me alone - I-I can do this…on my own.” Luffy insisted as he tried to walk over to his own bed which only a few steps as it was next to zoro’s. However even that seemed like a challenge and Luffy’s legs gave way, making him collapse to the floor.

“At least have some on Sanjis tea.” Zoro offered as he poured a cup from the tea pot that had been put in the room.

The steam from the tea was hypnotizing as zoro kneeled down to Luffy’s level.

“Look…you don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to talk.” Zoro reassured. Luffy sat up and took the tea. It was nice and eased the small headache he had gotten.

“I don’t want to.” Luffy replied, sipping the tea.

“Why don’t I help you into bed.”

“No.” Luffy said sharply “I can do it on my own.”

Luffy’s words were ignored as zoro scooped his captain up into his arms and put him onto his bed.

“Let go of me!” Luffy exclaimed, clearly very unhappy.

“I don’t particularly want to hear you crying all night because you can’t get up into your own bed.”

Luffy put the tea down onto the bedside table before covering his face with his arms. He didn’t wanna listen to zoro or hear his voice or even look at him - he wanted to tell him to go away but even speaking felt like it took so much energy. “Just rest okay.” Zoro said bluntly before leaving the bedroom.

And there he was. All alone, Just like he wanted.

No one could understand this feeling…this feeling of loss. It was like no other feeling Luffy had felt, losing the best part of yourself all because of some stupid swordsman.

It had to be his fault.

It only took a few minutes for Luffy to pass out and not long after the rest of the crew decided to head to bed - they all seemed partied out. It had been a fun night although the crew was worried for luffy - chalking it up to him being exhausted after the fight - but Zoro had a feeling there was more to it.

#fanfic #one piece #one piece zolu #zolu fanfic #luffy x zoro #sun god nika #sun god luffy #one piece fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #gear 5 luffy #straw hat luffy #zolu #one piece zoro #fanfiction #zoro x luffy

[chrishoughton]

i have been a big city greens fan from the very beginning and i recently just started rewatching it with my best friend who’s never seen it before. she lives over a thousand miles away in another state and it’s so hard being apart, but every night we get on the phone and watch BCG together through disney+. it has been one of highlights of my weeks lately.

I relate so much to Gloria, more than i wish i did sometimes, as a barista currently trying to make it as an artist and dreaming of going to paris hahaha. I love her.

all of this to say that i am so thankful for big city greens and the characters, it is so real and so funny and such a comfort to me. when BCG came out i had just started art school and it was a huge inspiration and continues to be today as i have grown and learned. my dream was and still is to make something as heartfelt and genuine as BCG one day. I’ve come close to giving up so many times and this year especially has been really difficult in a lot of ways, but rewatching your show has reminded me of what i set out to do in the first place. it has helped me find that motivation again.

thank you and Shane for creating such a gem, you have no idea how much it means to me. I hope you and your family had a wonderful thanksgiving!

(and since this wasn’t a question and you got on me for that last time i sent you a message, I’ll end with this:

what are cricket and tilly’s favorite songs of all time, respectively, and why? I would love to know so i can add them to my big city playlist :’)

thank you again!!)

Oh man, this made my day! Thanks for sharing. It makes me really happy to hear that BCG (and Gloria) is so special to you. I love that you watch it with your friend over the phone. That's adorable??? And it's surreal to hear that BCG is such an inspiration to you because I remember being in art school and wondering the same questions. "Will I ever be able to make something as cool/inspiring/original as ______??"

As cool as it is to be inspired by stuff you like, it can easily become discouraging (at least this is my experience.) Think of all of the artwork/songs/films we've missed out on because artists have talked themselves out of completing their project. Tragic!

It's important to remember that you'll never make anything like BCG (or anything you're inspired by) and that's a good thing! Whatever you create, will go through your individual "filter." It really will be unique because there's no one like you. No one has your exact experiences, perspectives, and outlook on life. Just keep making stuff that feels personal and honest to you and you're bound to make something interesting and unique.

And to answer your question (thank you for finally following the RULES)... Cricket's favorite song would probably be ever-changing depending on his current mood. But I like to think that Gene Autry's "Don't Fence Me In" is quietly playing on loop in the back of Cricket's brain. I could see Tilly loving Mama Cass's "Make Your Own Kind of Music."

Best of luck with the rest of art school!

#big city greens #disney #anon ask #disney channel #bigcitygreens

[jungk0oksthighs]

Over The Odds | 134340

Pairing - jungkook x reader 

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, S2L, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 1.3k

Drabble 7 - You call Jungkook on your lunch break 

warnings: swearing, heartfelt fluff 

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

“Hi, I’m just calling to make a payment please? Yeah it’s Y/N, account number… Sure it’s, 134340.”

“I’ll just pop you on a brief hold while I load your account.”

“Okay thanks.”

It’s Wednesday, you’re on your lunch break at work and figured you should pay off as much of your credit card debt as possible while you’ve still got a positive bank balance, you expect Jungkook won’t be sending you any more money in the future – not that you’re complaining obviously, you’d rather him be your boyfriend than your sugar daddy any day of the week. Jungkook is your boyfriend, your actual boyfriend, your partner, your lover… It’s only been two weeks since you made it official but you catch yourself smiling in the staff room mirror at the thought of him. You cringe. So this is what it feels like to be happy, to be loved.

“Y/N?” The male customer service representative comes back on the line.

“Mhm.” You try not to choke on the pineapple chunks you’re eating for lunch, swallowing them quickly, “Hello?”

“Hi… Can I get that account number again please?”

“134340.” You repeat, double checking the notes in your phone to make sure that’s right, which it is.

“One moment please.” The cheesy hold music comes back, but you’re in too much of a good mood to really notice.

You don’t particularly like your job, you’re a waitress in a small café a short walking distance from your apartment, you’ve been here for almost three years now – it’s not quite what you had in mind when you graduated business school. Back then you thought you would’ve had your own company by now, dreaming of the day you’d finally become a CEO of something important, but life just hasn’t worked out that way for you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hello.” You take a sip of water, fixing your makeup in the mirror in front of you.

“That account is closed.”

“What?” You frown, that account has a balance of nearly eight grand it’s definitely not closed. “No there has to be a mistake, the last time I made a payment I was told the balance was seven thousand and something, that was like three weeks ago?”

The man clears his throat, “I can see the account was paid off in full two days ago Miss.”

“What? But I haven’t made a payment in weeks.” You’re so beyond confused right now, you even take him off speaker phone and hold the device next to your ear to make sure you’re hearing this right.

“The balance of seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety four pounds exactly was paid directly to us two days ago… By a Mister Jeon.”

That bastard.

“Uh, okay… So I don’t owe you guys anything?”

“Not as of two days ago Miss. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“No that’s it thank you, have a nice day.” You end the call abruptly, scrolling your contacts with a deep frown until you find Jungkook’s name.

The line rings three times before he answers, his tone is sweet and chirpy. You have exactly five minutes left on your lunch break and so you need to make this quick.

“Hey baby, what’s up are you okay?”

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” You sound pissed, but in reality you’re smiling like an idiot at his pet name for you, carefully watching the clock.

“Uhh…” He clicks his tongue, you can practically hear the confused expression he’s no doubt wearing, “Did I forget something? It’s not your birthday for a few months is it?”

“No it’s not my birthday,” You silently chuckle, “Try again.”

“Mmm… Gonna need a bit more information than that Y/N. Have I done something wrong?” He sounds worried and your chest swells, fuck, he’s so considerate and caring. “Is this about you meeting my parents? Because we don’t fly out til Sunday and my mom’s really looking forward to it so please don’t be worried, I’ve already told you they’re gonna love you.”

“Nope, this has nothing to do with us going to Korea.”

There’s a brief pause, you can only imagine the look on his face right now as he’s trying to figure out why you’re calling him, “Ah, this is about Friday, when we get back from Seoul.” He sounds proud as a realisation hits him.

“What’s happening on the Friday we get back from Seoul?” It’s your turn to be confused.

“…We’re having dinner with your parents? Your mom emailed the business for my personal number since you wouldn’t give it to her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He’s laughing now, you hear his office chair squeak when he must’ve leaned back.

“Oh.” You’re embarrassed, vaguely recalling a conversation with her where she did mention something about that, at the time you’d thought she was joking but apparently not. “Thank you both for letting me know, but no it’s not about my parents either.”

“Come on I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m sorry.”

“You will be when I see you.” You scoff.

“Is it that bad? What did I do?” Though he sounds amused you know for a fact he’s sitting in his office in total panic mode – ever since making things official he’s constantly worried that he’s not being a good boyfriend, which only makes you fall for him even harder.

“So I just tried to make a payment on my credit card bill.” You tut, and the correct realisation hits him like a tonne of bricks.

“Ah…” You can hear his breathy chuckle through the phone, “How’d that go?”

“I’m your girlfriend now, you can’t just go around paying my debts without telling me. I was going to pay it off today anyways.”

“Well now you don’t need to.” You’re certain one of his brows are raised, his cockiness is so obvious even over the phone that you roll your eyes.

“Jungkook.” You warn him, noticing you’ve only got one minute left on your lunch break.

“Yes?” He’s so painfully smug.

“I’m serious! Why did you do that? You didn’t have to, and you shouldn’t have done it.” You’re trying to sound stern but you’re grinning like an idiot, it’s a good job he can’t see you right now.

“I did it because I wanted to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your sugar baby.” You remind him, mentally preparing yourself for the rest of your shift.

“Exactly. You’re my girlfriend, what’s mine is yours baby.”

“I gotta go to work,” You chew your lower lip to stifle a giggle, “But this isn’t over!”

“No, I didn’t think it would be.” He’s laughing again, the sound alone gives you butterflies, “You should probably know that I paid off your student loans and catalogues too, I think you’re officially debt free now.”

“Jungkook!” Your mouth falls open in shock as you frown, that’s a lot of money. Well it is to you, evidently not for someone like him. “No Kook that’s too much, why have you done that?!”

“Because I wanted to, now you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Yeah well you shouldn’t have… We’ll talk about this properly later and work out how to get your money refunded.” You stand up, smoothing out your pink apron, “Ugh I can’t believe you! I’m gonna kill you when I next see you.”

You can hear him grinning, “It’s a date.”

x

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