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issybettyx · 1 year

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CRIMEBOYS AU

Tdlr; Tommy works at odeon part time so he can get money to move. Wilbur is a famous actor in a new film. Boom brothers

(My sister worked at a cinema for a bit so i’m gonna use my knowledge on what she did to write this, so if it’s different to what you know just know that it is still true to life, pls and ty)

Aka: i went to watch the mario film and this popped into my head so i’m writing it, enjoy the crimeboys content :D

———

Whoever told Tommy that working at a cinema would be great had clearly never worked at a cinema.

He had a feeling he was going to start having nightmares soon about shovelling popcorn mindlessly for hours. Plus, the customers weren’t the most fun people to talk to. Before this job, Tommy had worked at a supermarket for a few months, and somehow those people were more bearable. People spend so long picking, and then he makes it and then they get annoyed after eating the entire thing.

But it was his coworkers that made it so he didn’t punch someone in the face.

“Tommy, did you hear about that new movie that’s coming out?” Tubbo had asked excitedly once the foyer was empty, and Tommy could only hum as he sipped on his slushy. “It’s a new super hero film, a new franchise, and do you know who’s playing the main role?”

Tommy in fact didn’t know. Despite needing to come in for work every single day the entire next week, he hadn’t thought to check who was acting in it (he didn’t know the name either, all he knew was that a new film with superhero that make child go ‘wow!’ That’s how Ranboo had explained it anyways).

“It’s Wilbur Soot.”

Tommy spat out his drink, wiping his face as he stared wide eyed at the brunette.

“No shot.” He replied, jaw open as Tubbo frantically nodded, his smile bright.

“Yeah, they posted an interview with him and he was explaining how he wants to inspire kids like how he was inspired.” Tubbo explained, leaning on the counter with a grin. “I would do anything to be as cool as him.”

There were many famous actors, and Tommy knew all of them and their mothers off by heart. It was one of the reasons he decided to work at the cinema in the first place, hoping he would get to use his knowledge for the greater good. Wilbur Soot was one of the greatest actors of all time, and he was only twenty-six. Twenty-six and he was probably one of the most well-known people in the country. Tommy had spent hours watching interviews of him, ranging from a few minutes on the news to hours of talking about the most random things on podcasts.

That was also something that fascinated Tommy about him. Wilbur just seemed like any other guy. He was tall, brunette, wore glasses ‘just for show’, and he didn’t spend heaps of money on designer clothes. Paparazzi caught him in charity shops several times, once even in Primark looking at a white frilled shirt? Either way, he didn’t spend his money stupidly, but rather donated most of it to charity, as well as promoting music festivals that he sometimes even performed at.

It was why Wilbur Soot was one of Tommy’s favourite actors of all time.

And he was in a new movie that Tommy knew absolutely nothing about.

The doors to the cinema opened, and Tommy sighed as he turned back to his station. Time for more popcorn shovelling.

—

The fact that the first entire three days of Wilbur Soot’s new movie were sold out said a lot. After several hours of research, Tommy had discovered many things about this new film.

It was called ‘Siren’, and it was about a superhero with the ability to control people using only his voice. Due to his work, Tommy got two free tickets to see any film, but because this new one was so popular he had to wait until a week after to use them. Which he wasn’t completely against, work was tiring and he simply had no time to see a film amidst it all.

The very first showing was on a Monday, and it was the premier. The seats were more expensive, but people queued to buy tickets even after they’d all been sold online.

It was chaos.

“No, I ordered a medium popcorn, not a large.” The woman complained when he handed over the box.

“I can remake it for you if you’d like?” He asked, ever kind and totally not because he was obligated to be respectful.

She huffed, lifting her chin and snatching the box. “No, I’d like to pay for my medium but get the large because you messed up, for compensation.”

“Ma’am-“

“Are you saying I’m wrong, Mister,” she drifted off, looking at his badge before fixing that sharp look on her face, “Tommy, are you accusing me of lying?”

“I would never, I’m just saying-“

“Get your manager for me, I would like to see him.” She ordered, and Tommy had to bite back his retort of ‘she’s a woman, actually’.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the rest of it.” A voice cut in, and Tommy looked up to see-

Oh my god it was Wilbur Soot.

“Sir you have to wait in the queue.” Tommy found himself saying before he could stop, leaning his hands on the counter with a smirk when Wilbur paused, wallet in hand as he looked at Tommy.

“I’m not buying anything though?” Wilbur asked slowly, but Tommy shook his head, pointing to the back of the queue that was only growing.

“You’re paying, you’re buying, back of the queue.” Tommy told him, staying adamant as he smiled. Baffled, Wilbur slowly put his wallet away and walked to the back. “Now, Ma’am, either pay for the large or I’ll remake you a medium.”

She ended up paying for the large.

The queue was so long Tommy only reached the end of it five minutes before the movie started, handing over their coke and salted popcorn with a customer service smile he’d mastered over the past few months.

Only then did Wilbur step forward again, smiling as he rested his hands in his pockets.

“Hello sir, thanks for waiting, what would you like?” Tommy asked with a grin, and he was surprised to find Wilbur smiling back, something strange flickering in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing really,” he drifted off, looking at the screens behind Tommy with the menu on, “Wait you guys do nachos?”

“I mean, yeah, they’re a bit expensive when you can make better ones from scratch for cheaper but,” Tommy scoffed, shrugging at Wilbur, the latter looking at him weirdly. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

“No, it’s just-“ he cut himself off, looking back to the cinema screens with furrowed brows. “Nevermind.”

“You want those nachos then big man?” Tommy asked, and Wilbur sighed again, smiling nonetheless.

“Please, and a pepsi please.”

“Pepsi max I hope.” Tommy muttered back, picking up a premade tray of nachos and placing them on the counter.

“Nah, just pepsi.”

Tommy paused in his movements, staring at Wilbur with astonishment.

“And I thought I knew everything.” Tommy laughed out, making his way to the drinks machine. “Never meet your heroes I guess.”

Whilst Wilbur was paying, that weird look never left his face, picking up his order before walking towards the screen. He looked back for a moment, so Tommy gave him a two fingered salute.

Then, he disappeared into the darkness of the cinema, and Tommy was left rethinking the past half an hour of his life.

—

It was a week later when Tommy saw Wilbur again.

He was the only one left on shift, everyone had left an hour earlier and he was left to clean up their mess.

It was when he was wiping down the counters that the actor strolled in, a yellow jumper, black jeans and a brown trench coat on. No one ever walked in so late, so Tommy found himself looking up at the sound of the door opening, smiling when he saw the brunette.

“Hey Wilbur, there’s no films on for the rest of the day.” Tommy said, scrubbing at the side where something wasn’t coming off. The man smiled back, shrugging.

“Didn’t come here to watch one.” He replied simply, walking up to the counter and leaning on it.

Tommy frowned back. “Well that’s a bit stupid isn’t it? Wandering into a cinema to not watch a movie.” He scoffed back, rolling his eyes before placing the cleaning stuff back under the counter, starting to untie his apron.

“I came here to see you, actually.” He returned almost slowly, watching Tommy’s face as if he was studying it closely. The blonde faltered, confusion overtaking him as he flicked through his mind for any reason Wilbur would show up to see him.

“Oh shit- please don’t fire me.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for being rude to you, my bad, I need this job.” Tommy tried, pinching his nose as he muttered to himself, words hardly coherent as he took a shaky breath.

“Woah, mate, I’m not here to fire you, you weren’t rude to me at all.” He immediately assured, holding his hands up in mock surrender when Tommy glanced up at him, only more confused than he was before.

“So,” he started, leaning on the counter like he had when he first met the man a week prior, except the actor seemed a lot more nervous than he did before, “You came here to see me, but not to fire me?”

“I-“ the man paused, running a hand through his hair, “I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out some time soon.”

If Tommy had a thousand years to guess why Wilbur was there that evening, he didn’t think he would’ve gotten it.

“What?”

“Well, I- uh,” he stuttered out, ever eloquent, “You seemed kinda cool, and you didn’t treat me differently despite knowing me.” Tommy laughed to himself, purely because it was a lot more than ‘knowing’, more so ‘looking up to’ and ‘being inspired by’. “And you’re funny, and I don’t know-“

“Who talked you into coming here?” Tommy asked slowly, a realisation dawning on him.

One interview a few years ago, when Wilbur’s career was just starting to take off, he had explained how his confidence usually stopped him from being able to make friends. That explained the nervousness, but it didn’t explain where he’d gotten the confidence to ask in the first place.

“Techno, my-“

“Twin, I know, I’m not stupid.” Tommy finished for him, smiling as he looked at the other looked at him in bewilderment.

“How much do you know about me?” He asked, shock in his voice but very little accusation. Tommy grinned, taking a handful of popcorn before walking out from behind the counter.

“I have watched every single one of your interviews at least twice.” Tommy explained, throwing a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “You’re cool, it’s really the least I could do.”

“So,” he drifted off again, swaying on his feet with a smile, “Do you wanna hang out some time?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, threw a piece of popcorn at the man’s face and opened the door to the cinema.

“Sure, my shift ends at one tomorrow, don’t be late.”

Wilbur’s smile was so bright Tommy thought he was hallucinating.

“See you then!”

The door swung shut behind him.

—

“So, let me get this straight.” Niki (Tommy’s boss, the one that Karen asked for once the week prior) started, hands pressed together flat in front of her face as she leaned over her desk, Tommy sat in the chair opposite as he hid his smile behind his hand. “Wilbur Soot came to the cinema yesterday and invited you to hang out, so you want to leave work early?”

“I forgot my shift ended at four today and told him it ended at one!” Tommy defended, arms wide as Niki laughed quietly to herself. “Please, I will make up for it at some point this week I swear, Tubbo and Ranboo have it handled!”

“Last time Tubbo was left alone without you he set the popcorn machine on fire.” Niki explained, and to this day Tommy had zero idea why she didn’t sack him for it. “I can’t leave them alone together until at least a month after the incident, it’s policy.”

“But Niki, do you understand how big of a moment this is for me?” Tommy pressed, hands clasped at the back of his head. “My hero has asked to hang out, I can’t cancel on him.”

If anyone would understand, it would be Niki. Sometimes, if she had to cover a shift, Tommy would talk about his favourite things to her purely because she listened. So, she may have heard him ramble on about Wilbur Soot for hours, if he added it all up.

And it seemed he was right, because she sighed, leaning back in her chair with a thoughtful look.

“If you can find someone to cover for you, and make up for the time lost, and prove that you aren’t lying to me to get out of work early, then you can leave at one.” Niki finally told him, and Tommy had never jumped out of his seat faster, rushing around the desk and pulling her into a hug.

“You won’t regret this Niki, I’ll tell you all about it I promise!”

She giggled as he left the room, shouting back, “I expected nothing less!”

Tommy found someone to cover for him in five minutes.

Well, kind of.

“Jack, please, if you cover for my shift today I will do anything to repay you.” Tommy begged him, looking into the bathroom mirror and looking at his crazed eyes.

“What’s happening that’s so important that you’re willing to do anything?” Jack laughed back, but Tommy knew this was no laughing matter.

“Wilbur Soot is happening, Wilbur Soot, Jack, and if you don’t cover for me I will hate you for the rest of my life.” Tommy spat, and the call went silent for a moment.

“If,” Jack started, and Tommy’s hope was flickering, “If you cover my next three shifts, and buy me McDonalds after our next shift together, I’ll cover for you.”

“Deal.” Tommy said immediately, already making a mental note of everything he agreed to doing. An extra three shifts is something he could deal with, and it gave him an excuse for a McDonalds, it’s a win in his books.

“I’ll be there at one.”

“Thank you so much Jack, thank you.”

The man laughed from the other end, and Tommy heard his keys jangling, “Of course man.”

—

Wilbur walked through the doors a few minutes before one, and Tubbo and Ranboo’s jaws dropped.

“Tommy, Tommy,” Ranboo started.

“Yeah?” Tommy asked with a grin.

“That’s Wilbur Soot.” Ranboo pointed out, trying to stay subtle as he poured a drink. “That’s Wilbur Soot, Tommy, how are you so calm.”

The boy hummed, already untying his apron. “I knew he was coming.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell us?” Tubbo whisper-yelled, eyes fierce as he glared at him.

“Well I thought it would be a cool surprise.”

“Hey Tommy.” Wilbur called when he got close enough, smile as bright as it was when Tommy saw him the day before, and the blonde couldn’t help but return it.

“Hey Wilbur, ready to go?” He asked, folding his apron and leaving it on the counter, knowing Jack was bound to walk in at any moment.

“Yeah, are you?” Wilbur returned, looking at the two boys who stood beside Tommy who stared at him as if they’d seen a ghost. “Hi, nice to meet you. Are you Tommy’s friends?”

“Not anymore.” Tubbo mumbled, earning a nudge from Ranboo.

“I’m Ranboo,” the man introduced himself, holding out a hand that Wilbur took with a warm smile, “And this is Tubbo-“

They both turned a little more to Wilbur’s left, to see Tubbo grabbing Tommy’s hair and yelling god knows what at him.

“I’m sorry I wanted to surprise you!”

“You could’ve surprised me when he visited last week.” Tubbo pressed, tugging harder on his hair. “This is so sad, I thought better of you than this.”

Wilbur turned back to Ranboo, finding him much less shocked at the scene. “This happen often?”

The taller scoffed, rolling his eyes. “This is Tubbo on a good day.”

“You fucking prick, I swear to god you will never forget this day.”

“You know,” Wilbur started, leaning against the counter, “I think my brother would like him.”

“You have a brother?” Ranboo asked, and Wilbur paused for a moment, considering the situation for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, his name’s Techno, he’s an author you might’ve heard of him.” Wilbur explained, seeing the flash of realisation on Ranboo’s face before the man smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, Tommy’s mentioned him before I think, not a big reader but he has all of Techno’s.” Ranboo explained, and that seemed like enough for Tommy to find the strength out of Tubbo’s hold, the blonde quickly hitting the back of Ranboo’s head.

“Shut up no I don’t.”

“You do, you were going on and on-“

Another light hit. “No I don’t.” The boy glared at his taller friend for a moment, and Wilbur saw the moment realisation dawned on him, quickly nodding.

“I lied, he doesn’t.”

Tommy hummed, before walking back around the counter. Only then did another door open, and it was the one from the staff rooms. Niki was dressed in her usual work outfit, her hairstyle choice for the day being a bun, her pink hair pulling into it nicely.

Her smile grew when she saw Wilbur, and she immediately made her way to Tommy’s side.

“So you weren’t lying to get time off work.” Niki half laughed, looking at Wilbur for a moment before holding out her hand. “I’m Niki, Tommy’s boss, he got his shifts wrong and was meant to be ending at four today.”

On cue, the main doors to the cinema opened, and in walked Jack, his eyes immediately lighting up.

Only then did Tommy start to notice just how uncomfortable Wilbur was getting, nudging his side and motioning outside.

“Thanks Jack, appreciate you!” Tommy shouted to him, speed walking out of the doors. Wilbur offered a smile, swiftly pushing open the doors and letting the cool autumn air hit his face.

“Well then,” Tommy started as he skipped down the steps, smiling when Wilbur turned to face him, “Where to?”

———

Me when me me me when CRIMEBOYS *runs*

They mean sm to me, you don’t even understand.

Tommy: *omg my hero is here omg omg omg*

Wilbur: *yooooo this kid is really fuckin cool and hilarious i want to befriend him but im too terrified to do so*

Techno: *suck it up and get on with it I wanna meet him*

Btw after the end they go to a cafe, get some coffee, go to a shop and laugh at Techno’s books, and then they go on a drive and listen to music.

Brothers your honour o7

#dream smp #mcytblr #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dream smp au #crimeboys #wilbur soot actor au #actor au

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stellocchia · 3 years

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Fanfiction, let's go!

Ongoing:

It's been a rocky ride but we're finally home by lostandfoundhobii

Chapters: 20/?

It's honestly a pretty great Fostercare AU fic. This one is mostly focused on Tommy and it's just a really nice read

Neutral Grounds by nervousn8

Chapters: 14/?

Superhero AU, sort of? Like, the superhero/supervillain element of it doesn't really play the biggest role in the story. It's mostly a murder mystery sort of thing actually. Trying to find out who killed Tommy's parents

Tommyinnit's Identity Crisis Makes Fighting Crime 1000 Times Funnier by BlueBlurBlank

Chapters: 8/?

Another Superhero AU, this time actually focused on the Superhero/Supervillain element. So much so that Tommy is somehow juggling being a hero, a villain, and a vigilante. My boy really needs a break. Wilbur is also juggling multiple identities, plus being there for his little brother. Everyone really needs a break

Decisions decisions and all of them wrong by ThreeMothsInATrenchCoat (Tsunochizu)

Chapters: 8/?

Another Superhero AU, I got a theme going this time around. This time Tommy is a sort of underground healer, who mostly heals vigilantes or small-time villains. One day he stumbles into a heavily injured supervillain and decides to help him out. That may not have been the best decision

The Land of His Brothers by DOC_Holliday

Chapters: 18/?

It's a Vampire AU, but it's very different from the usual for this fandom. It's set a while in the past and Tommy actually has good parental figures for once. Everyone respects Motherinnit, as they should. That said Tommy meets Techno (who is a vampire) after getting kidnapped and ending up in a fighting ring. It's just a very interesting story ngl

Completed:

Mischief and Mayhem by SilverWing15

Chapters: 1/1

Demon hunters sbi with human-demon hybrid Tommy. It's mostly a fluff, hurt/comfort type fic

The Day the Music Died by FractalFiction

Chapters: 1/1

I loved reading this, so much. It's a Dadbur fanfic with Wilbur being the god of music. It's fantastic

Once gone now respawned by yet_valerian

Chapters: 1/1

Wilbur has to deal with his first respawn after his revival

Assumptions and Falsehoods by MellohiBeloved

Chapters: 28/28

Another Superhero AU. This time it's mostly sbi and bee duo focused. Basically, Tommy starts working as cleaning service for the 3 top heroes of the city to help support himself and his two best friends. All the while Bee Duo are vigilantes (mostly Ranboo though) and the rest of sbi is convinced that Tommy is the new vigilante Boo. Also, Dream is there and he's f*cking awful. Really shouldn't have "adopted" a child there...

There's a Baby Dragon in my Flowers by MollyPollyKinz

Chapters: 6/6

Wilbur finds a really tiny dragon in his flower shop and helps him get back home. He finds out something about himself thanks to this. It's just 99% fluff. Dragon fluff.

#Fanfiction Recommendation of the Week #there's no reason why there are so many superhero aus this week #guess I was just in the mood for a while...

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penny-anna · 2 years

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do you have any shazam fic recs/favorite fics

im still exploring the ao3 section but ohoho yes I have a few:

Specific to Shazam (2019):

like a tiger (defying the laws of gravity)

"Billy hated how he picked her up so gingerly, when in any other case he’d just pull her against his chest. He hated how holding his daemon, the most natural thing in the world, felt so clumsy and awkward with his new hands. He hated how he could feel Cassi’s heart racing through his fingers, how fragile she felt in his grip."

Shazam! But they have daemons

v straightforward Shazam daemon au, its very sweet, author has obviously put a lot of thought into the daemon forms!! freddy has a fennec fox daemon which delights me i love fennecs <3

Asking Questions

“God,” Freddy said, hopping from foot to foot a couple times before leaping a few feet into the air. “You know you’re fucked up when not being in pain is your favourite superpower.”

little uhh Freddy centric one shot

5 Times The Justice League Met Members Of The Shazamily (And The One Time They Realised Why They Hadn't Been Introduced)

"It all started for Barry when he was overtaken by something bright purple and cackling."

Exactly what it says on the tin- the Justice League realising that there are more magical superheroes out there through a series of bizarre encounters while Captain Marvel avoids answering their questions.

i already rec'd this one but it's just uhh very cute ok. i also love the superhero names they picked out for the rest of the Marvel Family.

Habits & Heroes

By the time he’s eleven Billy is far too used to being around alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes. It’s just inevitable to come across when placed in the more unsavory homes the system has to offer. While he never felt inclined to take part in such things, the pressure amongst his many foster siblings and friends on the streets gets to him. It’s not a big deal, he reasons. Simply easier to partake than constantly being badgered for being a ‘goody goody’.

Billy is a bit more rough around the edges then people assume.

“Why do I feel like we just caught our kid doing drugs or something?” GL laughed. “It just seems-”

“ Weird right?” Flash finished emphatically.

i just really enjoy this one & its pre-identity reveal shenanigans idk

& a couple of other-canons based Captain Marvel fics:

The Power of Gods

Everyone knew Captain Marvel had the powers of gods, but never in the Justice League's life did they ever think they would come face to face with them.

Or, 6 times the Justice League realized how damn powerful Captain Marvel is, and the one time they found out Billy Batson was even stronger.

the good good identity reveal shit

Baby Blues

Harley had never been to Fawcett City in her life, but she had heard that it was basically as different from Gotham as a city could possibly be. Bright. Cheery. Happy. Friendly. Safe.

It was a place where, with any luck, she could ride out her pregnancy in secret and find a proper home for the kid afterwards.

Meeting the resident superhero and befriending the sweet kid from across the hall just made things more interesting.

(WIP but last updated this week) honestly this might be my fav shazam/captain marvel fic i've found so far, i was like hmm u know i think Captain Marvel & Harley Quinn would pair well and this fic hecking delivered. i love them. they are best friends now. <3

#shazam #dc fic recs #fic recs

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chemicalpink · 3 years

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Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

#thebtswritersclub #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagine

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robinrequiems · 2 years

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florist damijon au

although Damian would never have thought his life would end up here, it has. vigilante by night, florist by day. yeah that’s damian

ironically enough, Damian doesn’t even care for flowers, they’re fine decorations, but he doesn’t give a shit. He likes the meaning of the different flowers and likes to passively aggresibly send his brothers flowers with negative meanings when they piss him off, that’s the only reason why he owns a flower shop.

the flower shop; “Flower Pow-Pow-er” was not a name he came up with. but it suited the stupid thing, many of the famous bouquets were based off of superheroes, batman, Wonder Woman, superman, etc. Damian hates the name and sighed so hard each time he sees the damn sign

yoy would think in this age flower shops would go downhill, but nah, Damian’s shop is thriving ( probably because he’s a wayne.. )

but.. jonathan kent, a lover of flowers, stumbled into the shop one day to get some for his friend. than he met him. and accidentslly shouted out “YOURE BEAUTIFUL”

Damian assumed he wanted flowers rhat said that, unknowingly, jon went home very red and kept those flowers for himself. yoy see, jon had a flower phase, he knows the meanings of so many flowers due to the fact he used to collect them. when he began increasing the amount of flowers he owns, his parents and friends began to worry, but yoy know

two times a week, after patrol, jon wet to the flower shop, he just wanted Damian’s attention. unknowingly, Damian was freaking out, this hot guy kept coming in and ordering flowers but never said for who, Damian has asked, but jon just blushes and rushed out

“mayyyyaaaa, I’m dying, he’s probably dating someone!” maya works with him, she deeply regrets it

Damian was confused by the flowers jon wanted, but jon was even more confused why he walked into the shop seeing Damian with aconite ( hate & be cautious ) flowers and petunias ( resentment / anger )

“um.” “oh shit- hey. what flowers do yoy need today?” “why are you.. making.. that?” “huh?” “those flowers-“ “um. it’s for my brothers, they uh. Pissed me off.. don’t mind them, what do you need?”

but then jon started laughing, and damian realized he liked jon a little too much then. and jon, realized the same thing

“do you have flowers for “go on a date with me?”” “uh. yeah- or something similar to that, it’ll at least convey the meaning” “great!”

when Jon paid, he finally manned up, he walked out of the shop then back in, handing the flowers back to a confused and annoyed damian. “these are for yoy” “okay- wair what? why would you give flowers to a florist” “Because it sounded cute in my head!” “I’m going on a date with a moron, holy shit wow”

#florist au #florist Damian #damian wayne #damijon #jon kent

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sugarsnap-caely · 2 years

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WordGirl AU: Demon Rat AU Pt 1

So, a week ago I got into the WordGirl fandom because of @bunnieswithknives PS5 animatic.

Then, I saw this comment…

And got an AU idea… (along with help from my friend @floorgoblin

What if Squeaky is actually some kind of ancient demonic entity that was long ago trapped in the body of a mouse/rat? He's intelligent and immortal, yes. But ultimately powerless... Until Boxleitner's experiment…where it has an opportunity for escape… which is why the mouse presses the button.

After all it gives a good reason as to why Squeaky was intelligent, evil, and vicious. Plus, there’s superheros and villains… are demons really so far out of the realm of possibility?

But given that this is an AU… what else would be different (Is it edgy?… maybe…probably)?

For one, while the mouse was called Squeaky… the demon’s actual name is Reketh.

And before getting trapped in Squeaky’s body… he looked more like this.

Here’s the link for the picrew. Also I made a minor edit to it, ie the green eyes…(I checked the rules)

He regains this look in the “mindscape” after fusing with Steven.

He only gained the chain as a permanent mark of his imprisonment. And he has many titles, most of them related to his powers and things he does.

The Rat of Shadows, The Incessant Hunger, The Plague of a Thousand Worlds, The Corrosive One.

His powers are as follows:

He can control and manipulate shadows.

In fact, that’s part of the reason Squeaky was trapped in a white mouse/rat. It helped avoid the shadow powers. Although, it couldn’t stop the mouse’s occasional double shadow.

He can control a bunch of rats. And if he was pissed off… his aura alone released a plague. In this lore, this demon caused The Black Plague.

Not only does he have the three tentacle tails that he can utilize, he can also summon and manipulate more of them.

He can whisper in people’s ears… suggesting things… leading them places…of course... I feel that's the one power Reketh is putting to VERY good use now... 😈

he's kinda forced to

He can spit and create acid trails/prints.

Finally, any of you seen Lady and the Tramp? Remember the rat trying to get into the baby crib? I was inspired…

Reketh was known to eat children. Sort of a boogeyman when he was out and about.

Part 2

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #demon rat au #dr two brains #sugarsnapcaely #reblogs are appreciated <3

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radmerrmaid · 3 years

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I. i don't want any trouble (it just chooses to follow me)

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo asks you to be his escort and partner in crime for the week. And you can't really afford to say no.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo/Reader, past Steve Rogers/Reader

A/N: Besties, it's me, full on my Zemo bullshit. Comments, reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Message me with a cute review to be added to the taglist :-) I'll love you forever.

Warnings: Slow burn. Angst. Non-canon compliant. Pretty Woman!AU (i think?). Criminal activity. Mentions of character death (Zemo’s Family). Anti-superhero talks. Alcohol abuse. Age gap. Mentions of prostitution.

READ ON AO3!

***

To put it simply - having Baron Helmut Zemo back in your life could either mean a wonderful opportunity or a death sentence - the best thing that could happen, or your worst nightmare. And at that moment, it’s very hard for you to decide which one is it.

He’s different from what you remember. Back then - before Sokovia, before Steve Rogers, before the Snap - Zemo had this hint of dangerousness, melded with politeness and discretion - even a hint of malice that came out almost involuntarily in the corners of his mouth whenever he felt pleased. Right now, it seems like every drop of that infamous energy fits perfectly under his skin, almost twitching like a spark between his fingertips — pure and raw confidence from a man who knows exactly what he is capable of and that he won’t settle for a negative answer.

It’s a client, a very special one. High pay. A definitive chance of turning your life around. In your line of work, a loyal client that pays well is hard to come by, and because you’ve been away for a few years and very low on credibility and connections - and also desperately in need of money - it would be impossible to get a better chance to go back to the glory days of your career. And god, were you eager for that.

“Do you have an answer for me, dear?” he asks sweetly, for the first night tonight.

Helmut Zemo sits across from you elegantly; he effortlessly finds you into the same bar you’ve been on every night for a few months now, and today he even managed to not look so out of place. You are certain that the soft purple sweater and the black jacket are all designer clothes - but they successfully make him blend in under the dimmed lights. The bright glint of a Bulgari watch is enough to separate him from mere mortals, though.

He waits patiently for your answer with a glass of scotch, his calm demeanor evidently opposite to your agitated and anxious energy, fingers fiddling with the paper label of your beer, finding it almost impossible to relax under his sizzling and demanding stare.

“I told you to go fuck yourself and leave me alone. Isn’t that answer enough for you?” you pointed out, voice touched with boredom. Zemo’s smile widens at your rudeness, actually amused at your bad-mannered remark; you hate how it makes you feel like a disobedient child - the superiority aura an effective way of reminding you not to forget who you are talking to.

Well, if anything, he is persistent – you recognize, bitterly. You’ve been telling him to get fucked ever since he asked for the first time, but you supposed not any amount of expletives will ever answer a “yes or no” question – especially when it’s clear that you can’t afford to say no. But you definitely should say no, right? Because… Damn, where to start? There are about a million reasons why you, an unemployed private detective who also happens to be Captain America’s ex-girlfriend, shouldn’t say yes to Helmut Zemo, a terrorist convicted of killing innocent people and currently evading high-security jail God knows how.

Jesus, just thinking about it makes your head spin. Instantly, you wave briefly at your friend behind the counter to bring you something stronger – thank fuck he owns you a favor and lets you drink for free; it is becoming harder and harder to pay to forget what a mess your life is.

It’s been a couple of weeks now; no matter how many times you tell him to go fuck himself, he’s there again a few days later - between painfully bright alleys in empty supermarkets and dimly lit bars, he presents the proposal again: six days and six nights of your services to help him locate some items that were stolen from him. Oh, and he also needed you to pose as an escort while he steals them back. At the end of the heist, you get paid - more money than you’ll ever be able to spend in a lifetime.

The truth is – you want to say yes.

You wish you could blame it on the alcohol; the way your body seizes with excitement while fear, curiosity, and nervousness all simmer fervently inside your belly with the possibility of going back to work. Sure, alcohol makes you outstandingly reckless, but no amount of beer can explain you actually being interested in working with Zemo - the guy responsible for dismantling the Avengers.

Two shots of vodka appear in front of you and you down them immediately, chasing the buzz that it’s going to make this whole interaction way easier - and erase the tint of guilt that it’s already burning and consuming you slowly from the inside.

“Let me guess”, he starts, calling your attention back to him as he sips his bourbon, “you’re thinking about how wrong it is to be having a drink with me”, his tone is tinged with sarcasm. “Should I remind you that we used to work together in the past? With all of our transactions running smoothly, I may add.”

It is a bit infuriating, how calm and unbothered he is about this whole situation. In his defense, you are not as disturbed by his presence as you should be. You haven’t called the cops yet, right? But calling the cops meant having to deal with the cops yourself – and most likely, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, so yeah, not a chance.

“Why me?” you ask back, abruptly, both dodging the mention of the past and genuinely curious. As much as you wanted to get back in the game and be obscenely paid, you also didn’t want to end up being a part of his “world domination” plan. Isn’t that what super villains do? “You single-handedly dismantled the Avengers, and there are at least a hundred professional girls you can find in this town that can be more helpful than me.”

He gives you a presumptuous smile, most definitely taking your sarcastic commentary as a compliment: “Well, as far as the world is concerned, I’m currently serving my time in the Raft. We don’t want anyone to think otherwise.” he gives you a wink, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You drink your beer absently, and glare at him when something occurs to you: “well, I have to tell you: if this is about Steve Rogers, then I’m most definitely out.”

Zemo lets out a brief smile at that, as if he were expecting the wariness. “I assure you, I have nothing but deep respect for Captain Rogers - now that he’s retired. This is not about him.” he frowns, and intensifies his gaze, removing all the previous playfulness of his tone to add, “a professional escort won’t work. I need you.”

The way he phrases it, accompanied by the earnestness of his stare, makes you look away, a little embarrassed without knowing why. God, even sitting across from him, feels wrong – makes your skin prickle with excitement. The opportunity dances freely, unashamed in front of you, shining mischievously just like the glint of his brown eyes. You did work with him before, but it was never like this; back then, he was a polite and weirdly friendly army officer who gave you assignments, not a dangerous murderer with the potential to bring super-powered heroes to their knees.

“I understand the trepidation,” he says casually, bringing you back to the moment. “But I must tell you, we have a very specific window of advantage, and I like to use it in our favor.”

He is right. With your mind already making the connections, you realize that whoever stole from him would move fast to get rid of all of it soon, not to attract attention from the new Captain America or The Winter Soldier. News of his imprisonment hit the fan about two weeks ago; you would have to move twice as fast, shake a few dangerous trees to know if there’s good shit coming in from Europe. With a product as expensive as this, it would be difficult to convince your old sources to open their mouths, but you knew what buttons to push. Also, your rent is due next week, and you need money, fast.

You only realize how wide and pleased his smile is getting when it’s too late. The gears turning in your head are almost too noisy to ignore, and Zemo can see it right through you. No professional escort would work that fast.

God, you wish you could hate him. It would be so much easier – to just get up from this chair and tell him to go fuck himself again, but mean it this time.

“Shut up.” You warn before he can open his mouth, but you both know he doesn’t have to say anything. Fuck, he is annoying. Zemo’s presence causes a duality of raging emotions; anger, yes, but you have to admit that there’s something - an urgency that instigates that familiar and almost forgotten suggestion of something exciting. And if his offer is anything to go by, god, it is exciting, all right. Easy money and a chance to go back to the way things were before the Snap – before Steve.

You take another gulp of beer. Zemo stays patient, as if he has all the time in the world to wait for you to sort all your bullshit and collect the remains of your pride before saying yes. You sigh heavily, focusing on your rent due next week and the zeros on your bank account.

“Six days,” you announce, finally, trying to leave the anxiousness out of your voice. “You’ll have me for six days. After that, you and I are done.”

You immediately curse yourself for the double meaning, and he doesn’t say anything, but the smile he gives you before he raises his glass to you sends a menacing spark through your spine, and, you realize with horror, the quick shock of arousal you feel has little to do with your bills finally being paid.

***

You met Zemo for the first time in a small café in Paris. It's uneventful, really. Not a remarkable meeting at all; except for the part where your mind decided you needed to get into his pants as soon as he sat across from you.

At this point, it's interesting to mention that it was unusual for you to met with clients face to face. Having zero contact with them meant more discretion and more focus left for you to do an exceptional job. Usually, your associate did all the negotiation, but Zemo pays a few thousand dollars extra to get the results directly from the source, so you decide to make an exception - and you instantly regret it, of course. It's not that you were scared, or didn't know how to deal with people that may be dangerous. It's just that you were… unprofessional.

He easily could be mistaken for one of your professors back at school, you think, scanning his attractive profile while he orders, smiling charmingly at the waitress. It's hard to imagine he's an Army officer, much less a dangerous man, like you associate warned. He's polite, unnervingly so, even wears a wedding ring - that you embarrassingly feel very disappointed upon noticing - looks directly into your eyes, and asks questions about every little detail about your investigation.

From the very first time you've met him, you find yourself wishing this wasn't a business meeting, more often than it's safe for a woman in your position. Between meetings in Paris cafés and slightly awkward conversations about your lives, it’s almost too easy to fantasize you’re on a date with a much older man, maybe some guy you’ve met in a book store, and actually allow yourself to have fun with him.

The truth is that you were a college dropout, now turned private detective and bounty hunter, who desperately needed to go out more, instead of following people around to take covert photographs - or maybe break-in into their apartments in exchange for money.

It's not the first time you need to track down a person instead of an object, but this time, it takes you almost twice as much time. Usually, clients aren't interested in your methods, but Zemo asks for a full debriefing of your search - and you end up feeling pleased to explain your routine to someone. The brown envelope stays on the table, separating the both of you during all the conversation, and he doesn't even look at it during your explanation - which makes you feel strangely awkward as if you are being interviewed for a job.

"Your father was right, you are a very good detective."

You don't expect the compliment or even the mention of your dad, so for just a heartbeat, your mouth twitches up, and then you're clearing your throat.

"Uh. Thank you", you feel like a little girl being praised, your shoulders nearly touching your ears while you involuntary squirm. You're surprised, too, because, usually, your associate never mentioned the fact that you were his daughter to anyone. "Hopefully this address will help you find what you're looking for."

"I'm sure it will, liebling", your eyes widen for a moment when you hear the pet name, but he's already picking up the envelope, dropping a small suitcase filled with cash - and a disposable phone - at your table. "Nice work. I'll be in touch."

He hires you six more times - but the meetings happen way more often than you'd expect. You have your share of loyal clients, people that always come to you when they need something to be found - fast and quiet. But Zemo works closely; not only does he pay for six weeks of expensive accommodations in fucking Paris, but he also texts frequently, asks for a meeting every time your search comes up with something interesting, and it's always… weird. Not in an unpleasant way, but it doesn't feel normal, mostly because you have a hard time ignoring the massive attraction you have for him.

"You are very good at this," he tells you one day during lunch, voice filled with awe; almost like he's proud of your efforts. It fills you with some sort of giddiness that you are used to it by now - you have to muster a lot of self-control not to squirm at his compliments. You managed to track down a woman that escaped jail in Sokovia within three days of her arrival in the States, and Zemo's satisfied smile makes you smile right back at him.

You know you are good at this - it's the reason why you decided to drop out of college to sell information and find valuable things and people for cash. But you aren't used to compliments; your associate tries, but you feel like he is too busy handling your clients and too enamored with the money coming in to noticed how your skills have been improving.

"Thank you" you answer shyly, not knowing exactly what to say back, so you opt for honesty "It's actually fun. I like it."

You don't know why you said that, but once it's out, you feel strange. You haven't even admitted to yourself, but yeah, you liked it, even if it's not exactly an honest job - after all, you're pretty sure a significant part of your clients are criminals, mobsters, thieves, and, at the very least, billionaires that don't want to be bothered contacting the police. An army official it's the cleanest you've ever dealt with, and you wondered if dealing with people on the wrong side of the law didn't bother him.

"What about you? Do you like what you do?" for a heartbeat, you worry that you may be intruding, but he doesn’t seem to mind, actually frowning as if he's in deep thought about your question.

"Sometimes", he shrugs, and then puts a hand at the brown envelope on the table, your latest lead on another missing's person case "I like puzzles, the hunt" he sighs and then sits back on his chair "other than that, it's just… duty."

You didn’t expect that much honesty - but you smile at him all the same, because, yeah, you get it. The hunt is fun - hacking into security cameras, sealed files, and restricted systems; faking emails, and even voices on the phone. Staking out for hours on end to make sure the lead is legit, it's all fun. But other than that, you're really glad you have your associate to deal with all of it.

"Yeah, me too."

It feels intensively intimate, in a way that nothing has ever been. Not bad, because the conversation is always so easy with him as if there’s an invisible spark that calls you to him, that entices your curiosity and makes you want to know more - even if he’s just telling what his son thinks of the new park they visited.

It's the last time you see him before turning the TV on a week later and seeing Sokovia floating in the air - and then dropping onto the ground again. After that, you see his relatives' names in a newspaper; in a list of identified fatal victims of the disaster.

You don't even think that he's alive until you hear his name again two years later; laying in the bed of some three stars hotel in Eastern Europe - coming out of Steve Rogers’s mouth.

***

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo fic #helmut zemo smut #baron zemo smut #baron zemo fic #zemo x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x you

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ayybtch · 3 years

Text

Snickerdoodles

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 2 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,198

Chapter Warnings: so sweet it’ll give you a cavity, some not so subtle wlw yearning from the reader, and a brief little moment of angst that will make you want to hug Wanda

A/N: A special thank you to @thefallenbibliophilequote for giving this a beta read for me! Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

You were sitting at home watching TV when your phone lit up with a text notification from Wanda. You smiled and leaned over to grab your phone.

Bucky is asking about chocolate chip cookies again. He’s driving me nuts!

You chuckled at the message as you typed out a reply, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed for your sake at how persistent he is. Though, we should probably take it as a sign you’re due for another baking lesson. How do snickerdoodles sound?

Wanda agreed almost immediately and the two of you worked out a time for later that week.

Mindlessly, you scrolled back up and started rereading some of your old conversations. It had been just over two weeks since Wanda had found her way into the bakery and made her disastrous batch of chocolate chip cookies. She had texted you not long after she left the bakery that night and the two of you had texted sporadically since. Her texts had started off very polite, if not outright formal.

Hi. It’s Wanda. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do appreciate what you did today.

That had been her first message. Since then, the messages gradually became more casual. Most recently she had sent you a video Sam had recorded of Bucky begging her to make cookies on their flight home from a mission with nothing more than a series of eye-roll emojis.

It was strange having a superhero take time out of her day to text you. Though, you couldn't deny the fact that each time she did, it left you grinning like an idiot. It’s not that you think poorly of yourself or that you thought you weren’t worthy of being friends with someone like her; it had far more to do with how unexpected it was. In fact, the whole process of meeting her was unexpected. How many other people alive were lucky enough to say that an Avenger casually walked into their kitchen asking to bake cookies?

And how many people could say they had anyone, let alone an Avenger, smile at them the way Wanda smiled at you?

You groaned at your own stupidity and forced yourself to put your phone down. That was enough ridiculousness for the day. You didn’t need to feed into this silly little crush you were developing. Wanda was your friend, nothing more.

It was three days later when Wanda finally walked back into the bakery. She stepped inside right as you finished tying your apron around your waist. You greeted her with a bright smile, which she returned in kind.

“Hey, how has your day been?” you asked.

She shrugged, “It’s been a day but something tells me it’s about to get better.”

You tried not to show how flustered her words made you and rushed over to the sink to wash your hands. Wanda stood next to you and waited patiently for her turn. While she was washing her hands, you started speaking.

“Okay so, snickerdoodles are the best cookies in existence and are stupid easy to make. Most of the process is similar to what we did for chocolate chip cookies, but there are a few differences. Why don’t we start off with having you refamiliarize yourself with where everything is in here?” You hand her the recipe you had written out for her, “Here you go. Grab everything you can find.”

Wanda read through the list carefully and was soon rummaging through the cabinets. She set each ingredient on the counter next to you as she found it until it looked like she had most of her items, but she kept pausing to reread the list. Her eyebrows were furrowed together as she turned to look back into the fridge, only to come back to the counter empty-handed.

Her expression was a mixture of confusion and determination at the same time as her eyes focused on the ingredient list. It shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, but you couldn’t help but stare at the woman in front of you. It was almost shocking how green they were. Even when sad, her eyes were filled with warmth and kindness. Her mouth twisted slightly and drew your attention downwards. Were they naturally that pink? Or had she lucked out and found the most perfect shade of pink lipstick? They looked so soft and plump too, perfect lips for kissing...

You snapped back into focus as she said your name. “I’m sorry what was that? My mind drifted.”

She smiled and repeated herself. “The only things I’m missing are Crisco and cream of tartar. I looked in the fridge for the cream of tartar, but I didn’t see it and I have no idea where to begin with Crisco.”

You nodded as you walked towards one of the cabinets, opening it up as you began to speak. “I like your reasoning behind the cream of tartar, but unfortunately its name is a bit misleading. It’s a powder so it’s in the same cabinet as the cinnamon and sugar. The Crisco is up here too.”

You grabbed both items and set them next to the rest of the ingredients. Wanda picked up the can of Crisco and looked at it curiously.

“What is vegetable shortening?” she asked. She opened up the can and stared at the white solid inside. “It almost looks like butter, but it’s also so white it almost looks like plastic?” The confusion on her face perfectly matched the confusion that seeped into her voice.

You nodded along as she spoke, “It’s kind of like butter, which you can also use for this recipe if you wanted to. I think they turn out better when you make them with Crisco personally so I’ll only use butter if I’m in a pinch.

“Okay, so now we’re going to measure out two cups of Crisco into the mixer and start creaming it. From there we’ll gradually start adding in the sugar, cream of tartar, salt, and baking soda.”

Wanda nodded and got to work. As she scooped out the Crisco and smushed it into the measuring cup, she made a face that had you grinning.

“What’s with the look?”

She made it again as she continued working. “Don’t laugh at me, but it feels funny. I know it’s not that different from butter, but I usually don’t have to touch butter this much to figure out the amount! It’s gross.”

You didn’t laugh but continued to grin for the entire time she measured out the Crisco. A sigh of relief left her as she finally finished with the Crisco and got to wash her hands.

“These better be the best cookies on the planet after making me touch that,” she said, giving you a teasing look.

A sheepish smile spread across your face as she spoke. “I hate to tell you this...but you’re going to end up touching the cookie dough again. Like, you are going to be touching it a lot.” You cut off her groan and continued to the next step in the recipe, “Now we’re going to add the eggs and milk.”

She nodded and began measuring out how much milk she needed. Once that was done, the eggs were added in and she turned the mixer back on. She waited a few minutes before turning the mixer back off. “Time for the flour now, yes?” she asked, turning to face you. You nodded and she began measuring it out.

After the last of the flour was added, she reached for the switch on the mixer.

Before you even thought to remind her to start slow, the mixer was going full speed and flour was flying everywhere. Wanda rushed to turn it off but by the time she did, she was covered head to toe in a dusting of flour.

She stared over at you with wide eyes for a moment before bursting out laughing.

You had heard her laugh before, but never like this. This was full-bellied, tears running down her face laughter. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Hell, you were willing to bet it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever be fortunate enough to hear. Soon you were laughing along with her.

Each time the laughter started to die, Wanda looked down at her clothing and burst out laughing all over again. It took almost five minutes for the two of you to calm down enough to even start to think about getting back to the cookies.

“Well, I guess I’m doing laundry after this.” She shook her head rapidly and more flour came floating down off her hair, making her giggle. “And I think a shower might also be in order.”

You started laughing again at her words. “We’ll have to get you an apron to help protect your clothes. Though, if you keep turning a mixer on to full speed like that it still won’t do you much good,” you teased.

Wanda stuck out her tongue in response before slowly starting the mixer back up. She stared into the bowl as the flour began to mix in with the rest of the ingredients and her face twisted.

“How do we know that there’s enough flour still in there with how much just flew out?”

You just shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If it’s too sticky when we start trying to form the balls we’ll add in some more.”

The dough mixed for another couple of minutes before Wanda turned it off. You leaned over and pinched off a tiny piece of the dough and rolled it around in your hands before popping it into your mouth.

A satisfied hum left your mouth and you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s perfect,” you said. “No need for anything extra.” You reached into a drawer and grabbed two spoons before handing one to Wanda.

“So what we’re going to do now is roll them into small little balls about an inch in size. Once they’re as round as we can get them, we’re going to roll them around in the cinnamon and sugar.” You gestured towards the two bowls in front of you. “Any questions?”

Wanda shook her head no and the two of you got to work.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to get the hang of making the individual rolls and coating them evenly in the cinnamon and sugar mixture. A comfortable silence fell over you as the first batch was placed on the baking trays.

“So, what made you want to become a baker?”

You smiled as you answered, “My parents both cooked a lot when I was growing up so being in the kitchen is like second nature to me. My dad and I spent a lot of time baking together around the holidays and as I got older, I was put in charge of making whatever treats we wanted. By the time I graduated high school, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.” Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “What about you? What did you want to be before you became a superhero?”

“Definitely not a baker,” she teased, a grin spreading across her face. You chuckled and she continued. “I wanted to be a lot of different things, but one of the most consistent things was being an actress. I always thought it would be fun to star in a cheesy sitcom.”

You grinned at the thought. “You’d make a great sitcom character! Though it would be such a waste of great material if your character could bake. Between the salt last time and the flour just a minute ago, you’ve naturally got some great material right here.”

“If you don’t stop that, I will throw this cookie dough at you,” she groaned. You wiggled your eyebrows at her words.

“You know, that has to be one of the least threatening things someone has ever said to me,” you teased.

She groaned again and changed topics. “So how did you end up working here? It’s not exactly your average place to start looking for a baking job.”

You laughed and nodded along. She had a point, this was a very strange place to work in general but especially for someone who bakes for a living. “Technically, I don’t actually work for SHIELD. I’m just on loan from Stark Industries. ” She looked over at you curiously so you continued.

“I catered an event once that Tony went to, back in his pre-Iron Man days. He offered me a stupid amount of money to come work for him so I did. Right around the time he started working closely with SHIELD, I had some...creative differences with one of the other bakers he had employed so I was able to transfer over here.”

Wanda had all but stopped working as you spoke. “What do you mean by ‘creative differences’? How do bakers have creative differences?”

“It’s more of a euphemism than anything. She was my ex. We broke up and it was just a little rocky working with her after that, you know? We were still professional and all, but there was enough underlying tension that I didn’t hesitate to apply when they told us about this position.”

She nodded and slowly started working again. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke again.

“Well, I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between you and her. Breakups are never easy.” Her voice was gentle and honest, which made you smile.

“Nah, don’t be sorry. People don’t work out sometimes and that’s okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you continued, “Besides, she thinks snickerdoodles taste better when you make them with butter. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”

The two of you burst out laughing and the conversation resumed.

Almost an hour later, six dozen cookies were carefully being set into plastic baggies for Wanda to carry back to the Avengers quarters. Each batch had cooked up perfectly and you couldn’t help but melt at the proud look on Wanda’s face. With every batch that came out just as perfect as the last, her confidence grew until she was smiling so brightly she overpowered everything else in the room.

As she finished sealing the last bag, a satisfied hum left her and she turned to face you.

“Once again, I don’t even know where to begin thanking you. Not only for the cookies but for the time we spent together this afternoon. It’s not often that I meet people who treat me like a normal person.” Her voice was dripping with gratitude as she spoke and your face felt hot.

“Once again,” you teased, mirroring her words, “There is nothing to be thanking me for. I’m always happy to help when and where I can. But, we should probably at least try the cookies first before anything else.”

Wanda nodded enthusiastically and quickly pulled two cookies back out of the baggies. She handed you one before grabbing hers and taking her first bite.

She let out a satisfied hum as she chewed. “This is the best cookie I have ever tasted in my life,” she mumbled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she spoke. She paused abruptly and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh my god, I’m turning into Bucky!” she groaned, “I did not just moan over a cookie and talk with my mouth full. What is wrong with me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, if you’re going to moan and talk while you eat because of a cookie, this is the cookie to do it. I do think we’ll have to find something a little more challenging than cookies for you next time, though.”

Her eyes lit up in excitement. “What about bread? Could we do bread next?”

“Six successful batches of cookies and you think you’re ready for bread now, huh?” you teased.

Wanda took the teasing in stride and responded just as cheekily, “I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I do know how to make the most incredible snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies on the planet now. So you better watch out or I might just end up coming for your job.”

You grinned, “I’d like to see you try.”

The two of you continued to giggle at each other’s nonsense as Wanda washed her hands and began collecting the bags in her arms. “So, we’ll figure out something soon yeah?”

You nodded and moved to open the door for her as you spoke. “Definitely! It most likely won’t be bread though, I hate to break it to you.”

Wanda rolled her eyes dramatically, but the smile on her face showed she was anything but upset. The two of you said your goodbyes and she made her way out of the bakery.

As you crawled into bed that night, you couldn’t help but replay the conversations in your head. Talking with Wanda had been the most exciting social interaction you had in years. She was so genuinely interested in getting to know you and asked you so many questions about yourself, but was never shy about answering questions about herself in turn.

“So what’s it like being an Avenger?” you asked, unable to hold back your curiosity any longer.

She paused and shrugged, “Honestly, it’s really not as great as some people make it out to be. I know that I should be grateful for the opportunity to make a difference and for having the ability to keep people safe, but more often than not the bad outweighs the good.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “You don’t always get the bad guys and so many people still accuse me of being one of them. There are always so many cameras pointed at me. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.”

You nodded, sympathy rising in your chest. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I know my opinion probably doesn’t count for much, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy; I don’t think you ever really were.”

Her smile was blinding as she replied, “Your opinion means everything.”

That had been one of the more serious moments, though the majority of it had been filled with laughter. At one point, she had started trying to teach you some basic words in Sokovian. You stumbled over the words repeatedly, but she continued to be nothing but patient and supportive. The buzzing of your phone drew your thoughts away from Wanda momentarily, only to see a text from her.

I keep thinking about what you said earlier today. I think you’re right.

You stared at the message with confusion as you hastily typed out a response, I am right, but remind me what I’m right about?

Three dots appeared on the screen then disappeared. A minute later, a message appeared.

They’re better with Crisco. I haven’t tried them with butter but I don’t need to. You’re also right in that you don’t need the “butter Snickerdoodles are better” negativity in your life. You deserve nothing but the best.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Made With Love Masterlist

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quokkacore · 3 years

Text

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,�� Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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jjungkookislife · 3 years

Text

Fic Recs 2020 Pt. 1

Seokjin

let’s get married [SMAU] @hangsangwithbts

Summary: seokjin has no intention of getting married, but after facing tremendous pressure from his family to finally settle down, he comes up with the brilliant idea to fake a marriage. the lucky bride just so happens to be you.

voice mail @joonary

summary: kim seokjin is best known around campus for his romance advisory podcast, voice mail, but to you, he’s just your lovable idiot of a best friend. but when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s fallen for one of your fellow peers, you can’t help but be a little bit curious (and quite frankly, a tad bit jealous).

Yoongi

cheers if you agree @out-of-jams

summary: If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know who you were or even how to get into contact with you, Yoongi wouldn’t be posting all over Weverse for anyone to see. Not that he thought anyone would be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together with how many people responded to his posts anyway.

snake kisses @peekaboongi

summary: You are grossly unprepared for the snake hybrid that enters your life. Yoongi is quiet and sneaks around you but eventually, even the cold reptile warms up to you.

under construction [SMAU] @luffles424

summary: In which y/n is just trying to figure out what to do with her life with the help from her (un)helpful friends

Hoseok

going once, going twice, sold @bxebxee

summary: But the real reason anything at all started with Hoseok was something much simpler, and probably wholly unexpected - not that you ever planned on any of the other members of the MBA Society to find out.You leave your unlocked phone in his car before stumbling your way into your tiny, studio apartment. And he sees a twitter notification asking you for further discount on your panties.That is all it takes.

just practice @lamourche

summary: The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn’t remember the first time. You’re surprised. It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you’ll learn.)

game over @9uk

summary: your boyfriend has been gaming all day without paying much attention to you. that is until his friends on discord brings up the moaning noises in the background.

you’re my kryptonite @dovechim

summary: Superheroes are immortal, they are everything we are not. The Krypton are a race of superhumans sent down to Earth to protect humans, and they are the epitome of nobility and protection. You have always believed in their immortal, God-like powers, revered and admired them your entire life. Your wish for your very own superhero is granted when you meet Jung Hoseok, a Krypton with the most unique, powerful abilities you’ve ever seen.

Namjoon

first, do no harm @yandere-society

summary: Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

internet friends [SMAU] @bts-celestials

summary: meeting through online, namjoon slowly starts to fall for the person who likes all the things he’s into. maybe having friends online is fun.

Jimin

reset @dovechim

summary: We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

paparazzi (tw: flash banner) @chinkbihh

summary: What if the roles were reversed and it was Jimin who was the fan and you who was the idol? But what if he wasn’t just a casual fan, but an avid fan? Maybe even a sasaeng…

Taehyung

the morning after @softlyjiminie

summary: one night, full of passion, whispered promises and heated kisses. one morning, full of regret and unwanted memories. is a night with your ex enough to send you running back into the arms of the devil?

fake love @mygsii

summary: an arranged marriage between you and taehyung leaves behind feelings of bitterness and hatred. will your heart be able to survive, especially when you’ve loved him all your life, or will it fall apart with this marriage?

cheap skate @gukslut

summary: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

baby i @jiminsfault

summary: a one night stand with a stranger leads to so much more than just great sex

Jungkook

only for love [SMAU] @lysjeon

summary: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

one time in your room @ubemango

summary: There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

piss off your parents @littlemisskookie

summary: In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.

departure @nomnomsik

summary: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

curiosity @hobidreams

summary: when innocent jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question… you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.

inkling @gguksgalaxy

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

j’aime @baepop

summary: You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

pop goes the cherry @1oserjk

summary: jungkook comes back home to find you visiting as well, all grown up — in more ways than one.

skirt chasers @1kook

summary: “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

kiss it better @jincherie

summary: When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

pay by play @yoonia

camboy!au

deeply poisoned @xmagicxshopx

summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

speeding ticket @minstrophywife

summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket.Or,“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

OT7/Multiple Members

buttercream @minniepetals

summary: you were always adorable in their eyes, sometimes a little too adorable.

dulce periculum @forgottenpasta

summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part ½

tropicana @dragunjk

summary: groovy punch sippin

amaranthine @koyamuses

summary: As the sole owner of Nightshade, a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, you find pleasure in rising each morning to tend to your guests but behind closed doors and within the shadows, you are the covenant leader to a group of young vampires who have claimed you as their mate.More often than not, your day is brimming with a mix of daily chores and back door deals that ensure the survival of your covenant. However, everything changes when three werewolves come stumbling into your life, all three of them claiming it was your scent that drew them closer as the words true mate ring into the silence.

testosterone boys @kiwiscript

summary: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.

operation love letters @ve1vetyoongi

summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

our princess @iridescentjin

summary: In your newly established poly relationship, you are intimate with both Taehyung and Seokjin at the same time for the first time.

#fic recs #fic recs 2020 #fic recs masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

All Over Again - Chapter 1

Summary: What was lost can be found. - DC & Marvel AU

Pairings: Lena x Reader ; Implied Natasha x Reader ; Platonic!Avengers x Reader ; Platonic!Superfriends x Reader

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence

* * * * * *

Sighing, you splay yourself out on the grass, looking up at the distorted view of the sky as the red leaves of the tree above you sway. The gentle breeze sends a chill over your skin but it’s much too calming for you to move.

“Am I going to have to start carrying jackets around with me again?”

The familiarly sultry voice meets your ears over the sounds of nature. It makes your heart thump faster like it always had but this time an ache accompanies it. Her joking tone holds an underlying nervousness and you have to resist the urge to scoff at the drastic change in your conversations together.

You could never forget the moment everything shifted. Your entire relationship with Natasha fell to pieces. All the love and trust that had grown stronger each year that you were together seemed to mean nothing to her suddenly.

Months on the run from the U.S. government, planning your futures together, it blew to hell in literal seconds.

Everything you’d grown to know and love was pulled out from underneath you with three simple words: Hi, Bruce. Followed by the awkward pause and nervous, Nat.

Hope rose in your girlfriend’s eyes and you were unsure why. The main reason being that you were recruited by Fury during the Sokovia incident. You never met the infamous Bruce Banner turn Hulk, and didn't know about his history with your girl. And Natasha hadn’t found it necessary to tell you about it either.

Which left you in the dark and completely blindsided by Natasha’s decision to end things with you. Simply telling you she owed it to herself to see where things with Bruce went. And you being the person you are and loving Natasha the way that you do, you wanted her to be happy despite your heartbreak.

All of that rested on your shoulders at the same time that Thanos appeared. Your broken heart seemed to shatter further when you lost your best friend Wanda and the many friends you’d gained.

For five years you hurt. Grieving your lost friends and dealing with your broken heart. It seemed as though Natasha breaking up with you wasn’t even worth it as Banner left after Thanos and they didn’t see each other for five years.

Even after the five years though, you still were coping with your heartbreak despite the Avengers having gotten rid of Thanos for good. As you then had the privilege of seeing Natasha and Bruce together. And you could admit that they look good together, happy.

Which means you need to find your own. You just aren’t sure how.

You take a deep breath and look up at the redhead who’s watched you in your silence.“ I hadn’t planned on staying out here long so I didn’t grab one.” You respond, deciding to ignore her not so subtle hint at your relationship and personal quirk.

Jackets are just the last thing you think about before you leave out and Natasha used to take it upon herself to bring one for you whenever you were with her.

She smiles tightly and nods,“ okay. Well I was just coming to let you know that Steve and Bucky are almost done with dinner.”

When you nod in answer Natasha waits, silently debating if she wanted to say anything else or not, but chose not to and finally walked away. You waited a few extra minutes before pushing yourself up and heading toward the compound.

As you’re walking up to the door, your red leather clad friend lands beside you, her magic vanishing from her hands before she flings her arms around you.

“Hello to you too.” You chuckle, hugging her back.

Wanda smiles brightly,“ hi.”

A small smile of your own hitting your lips. You’d missed the young woman as she was away on a mission with Sam. They weren’t far, just on the East Coast, but they’d been gone for a week, which was more than enough for you to begin to miss her.

Before either of you step into the building, she grabs your hand and laces your fingers together, gently tugging you off to the side. Soft light green eyes stare back sympathetically,“ how are you?”

“Wan-” you sigh, running a hand up and through your hair.

“I’m just worried about you.” A little pout hits her lips followed by a joking smile,“ and I’m kind of the only reason you’re sane.”

You throw your head back with a laugh. Then shaking your head and wrapping an arm around her shoulders,“ I’m fine Wanda. Thank you for the concern and sanity.”

Placing a quick kiss to her temple, you guide her into the building, more than happy to have your best friend back.

Like Natasha had told you, Steve and Bucky already have the table set and everyone is sitting around. No matter how hard you try, your gaze finds Bruce and Natasha, the man leans over to say something to her and a cute smile rises, reminding you of the one you’d caused her to have before.

A squeeze of your hand pulls your eyes away and you nod to Wanda before sitting down beside her. Usual chatter circles the table, Sam and Wanda talking a bit about the mission briefly, and then asking all of you about what’s been going on.

By the end of dinner you’re a mix of annoyed and happy. Your friends had made you laugh and smile just like usual, except every time you got lost in the joy of it all you forgot what was across from you and your gaze caught the image of Natasha and Bruce flirting, laughing, and smiling. It makes you so upset that you still wish it were you with her.

It’s been six years! What happens to time heals all wounds? Was that just a load of shit? Would you genuinely have to deal with being all bitter and jealous for the rest of your life.

“Welp,” you smack your hands to your thighs,“ Steve, Buck, dinner was incredible, thank you, but I have a few things I need to attend to so if you’ll excuse me.” Standing, you grab your plate and glass.

“Not so fast Y/Ln,” his voice rings clear not but a second after you walked away.“ You’re all here for once so I’d like to inform you that you’ll all be attending the Stark Industries Investment dinner tomorrow night.” Tony smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners.

Your eyes narrow,“ what exactly would the Avengers be doing for your companies investors.”

“Persuading, encouraging, indulging. Investors would kill to hear mission stories and about all your equipment.” His tone is sweet, as if he’s trying to convince you all to come.

A party/dinner isn’t exactly what you’re feeling up to right now. And quite frankly it’s not necessary for every Avenger to show up.

From the looks of Steve’s face he isn’t going but you still have a bit of hope that is, until he speaks up,“ Bucky and I have a mission.”

Tony gives an expectant gaze to the rest of you.

“I’m always down to party.” Sam shrugs nonchalantly before returning to his food, pretty sure this is his third plate.

Bruce sighs,“ I’m under the impression that this isn’t an option for me.”

Tony’s grimace is answer enough, but he still says,“ it is not. Also, no offense, probably don’t show up all big and green. The venue is large but-”

“Ah ah ah I got it.” The big green man waves his hand, then smiling down at Natasha,“ mind accompanying me?” She instantly smiles and nods and that small little gesture is enough for you to head out.

Further, Tony goes,“ Maximoff?”

And Wanda responds,“ I’ll only go if Y/n does.”

Dammit Wanda!

Turning on your heel, you have every intention of saying no. Only to find her giving you that damn pout, followed by her whispering,“ please.”

“Alright whatever.”

With that you leave, cleaning your dishes, and then going straight to bed. In the morning you take extra care to avoid Natasha, you eat while she’s in the gym, only going to train after she’s long gone, and eating lunch on the roof with Wanda.

You make it as far as into the venue for the Investment dinner before you have to see her again. Even then you wish you were blind.

God she’s beautiful. It’s criminal the way that dress fits on her. And just as your eyes trail up her long legs and over the curves of her body to her piercing green eyes, her looking back at you pulls you to reality.

You no longer have the right to look at her that way. No matter how good she looks, you can’t look at her like that. No, the man beside her is the only person who carries that privilege.

“I’m gonna need a drink to get through this.” You sigh, beeligning for the bar instead of your seat.

Wanda sticks close to you, definitely having seen your staring.

Leaning against the bar, you wait for the bartender to come your way, then asking for an old-fashioned and you wait. Beside you, Wanda’s eyes flicker over the room, a nervousness in them.

“Hey,” you nudge her arm with your elbow,“ I’d say it’s not that bad but it is.” The young woman’s eyebrows raise but you wave it off,“ you just have to put up with most people speaking to you like you know less because you make less. Other than that it’s alright.”

As she takes in your words, you accept your drink from the bartender and hand Wanda a flute of champagne. She’s not a drinker but the little boost is needed.

With a reassuring smile to her and the last swig of your drink and guide her through the scattered crowd to Pepper. The blonde is more than happy to walk Wanda around, introducing her to a few people while you make rounds on your own.

Just like usual, most conversations revolve around everyone else’s business, or the occasional question about your work that you can’t even discuss. But you manage to do as Tony asked, impressing them with talks of your abilities and that of which you can disclose.

Majority of the people you talk to take a liking to you, or at least the superhero you, and you convince them to invest in Stark Industries, giving the whole “a company that leads in medical and technological advancements” spiel.

“Still hate these things huh.”

Breathing in deeply, you exhale and turn to face Natasha. Her green eyes watch you cautiously and you’re in genuine disbelief that the badass Black Widow is so wary of you. Since the breakup she’s interacted with you as if she’s afraid you’ll hurt her.

You lick your lips,“ Natasha you speak to me like you don’t know me anymore.”

A sigh falls from her lips and she looks down at the bracelet on her wrist,“ I know. I’m sorry I just- I don’t want to say anything I shouldn’t.”

“Right,” you scoff lowly.“ You don’t have to worry about my feelings anymore I promise.”

“Y/n I-”

“Nat.” Bruce approaches, completely oblivious to the awkward tension flowing between you and his girlfriend.“ I’m sorry, do you mind if I steal her away for a moment.”

You smile bitterly,“ oh she is all yours.”

Green eyes look at you with an unreadable emotion but you brush it off, walking away with a glance back that reveals Bruce twirling the redhead on to the dance floor.

You square your shoulders with a deep inhale and head back to the one place that you’ve been able to breathe tonight.

“Another old fashioned please.” The lady nods and quickly makes the drink and you smile in thanks.

Taking a long swig from the dark liquor, you sigh contentedly at the burning trail down your throat. Your few seconds of peace interrupted by a deep voice speaking cockily.

“A beautiful girl like yourself drinking dark liquor leads me to believe you’re not enjoying yourself.” The man smiles brightly showing off his, no doubt surgically whitened, teeth.“ Perhaps I could change that for you.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you pointedly down the rest of the drink, and tap the bartop in call for another.“ Bold of you to assume that I’m not having a good time.”

Before he can reply with his planned flirtatious remark, a lightly accented soft voice joins in,“ I’m sure Mister Richards meant no harm, he’s just a rather presumptuous man.” Her statement has you turning back to see who it came from.

Your eyes meeting the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen. A sentiment you didn’t think you’d ever make after Natasha.

Her black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, not a single strand falling loose. Beautiful light green eyes stare back accompanied by a red lipped white tooth smile.

In your daze of taking in her appearance you miss what she says to Mister Richards, but it sends him away, leaving the two of you alone.

“Um, forgive me for this, no doubt, repetitive question but, what company are you here representing?” Your eyes subconsciously trail down the line of her jaw and it’s incredibly hard to draw your attention away when she speaks.

“Luthor Corp.” Her lips turn up into an almost knowing smile and it has you quickly looking up into her eyes, heart pounding when you realize you’d been caught staring at her lips.“ I’m Lena Luthor.”

Clearing your throat, you hold your hand out to her,“ Y/n.” You expected a warm hand but while it’s soft, it’s fairly cold.“ Thanks for the save Miss Luthor.” Your hand returns to your glass, the chill of it like that of her hand.

“It was nothing, I could tell from across the bar he’d said something you didn’t like.” She makes mention.

You grimace, a soft chuckle falling after,“ you’ll have to forgive me, controlling my expression isn’t a mastered craft as of yet.”

She waves you off, casually leaning her side against the bar as her drink is sat down,“ it takes years, I’m still working on it. Come to enough of these and you’ll get it.”

“Oh I’ve been to plenty,” her eyebrow quivers at that,“ I’ve just never been good at. . .lying. No offense to you in any way, I think you’re ability to deal with all this social-”

“Bullshit.” She finishes for you with a chuckle.

Nodding, you laugh as well,“ yeah that. It’s a true superpower Miss Luthor, and of my many, that is not one.”

“Superpower is a stretch.”

Your eyes narrow at her, a small smirk on your lips,“ something tells me it isn’t.”

Throughout your continued conversation, her charm and genuine goodness radiates off of her. The woman listens intently to you speak, she makes you laugh, and indulges all your questions with zealous passion.

As the night goes on neither of you find much entertainment outside of your little space at the bar. Not wanting to go home inebriated, you’d long since switched your liquor for plain club sodas, Lena suggesting the addition of cherry grenadine just for flavor.

“The idea is brilliant, which I’m sure you know, I just think it has more potential than power storage. What if you used it as a power core instead.” You shrug simply.

Lena’s hand halts in movement, the drink in her cup sloshing slightly as the action,“ that’s genius. But it wouldn’t be easy. I’ve toyed with alien energy before, it’s much more powerful than expected.”

“Which, I think, makes it all the more useful. Depending on how strong, you could power an entire village or a small town. Imagine giving small pieces of the core to third world countries.”

An amused smile tugs at her lips for the nth time tonight,“ is your first thought always to help others or is that just the Avenger in you?”

You chuckle,“ myself and the hero. I just don’t see why we wouldn’t use the knowledge and resources we obtain, alien and human, to help those who truly need it.”

Lena’s mouth opens in preparation for her next reply, however it doesn’t come as a body weakly collides with yours. Wide eyed you look over to see your best friend, obviously drunk, leaning on you.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You have to try the strawberry cake thingies.” Wanda tugs at your arm in a childlike manner.

Frowning in Lena’s direction, the CEO shrugs. Gentle grabbing Wanda’s shoulders, you turn her to face you,“ what strawberry cake?”

She smiles,“ the ones on the tray Y/n. The servers are walking around with- oO right here.” Fast as lightning, her hand shoots out and she grabs a small plate off the servers tray. Three little white chocolate truffles sit on it with milk chocolate drizzled over.“ Try.”

“O-” your reply cuts when she shoves a piece in your mouth. As good as it is, your eyes widen for an entirely different reason. Your tongue runs over your bottom lip as if to ensure you’re tasting what you’re tasting.“ Wan, how many of these have you eaten?”

Her hand raises to show three of her fingers.

Yep. The small woman ate nine strawberry champagne truffles. She’s drunk.

Lena, wanting to understand, retrieves one of the truffles and bites into. Her response is the same as yours.

With an apologetic smile you look at her,“ I hate to cut the conversation short but I should probably get her home.”

“Of course of course. Hopefully we’ll be able to continue sometime.” She smiles sweetly and you nod.

After a short wave to her, you gather yours and Wanda’s things, and leave the building.

“Y/n!”

You freeze in step, tightening your hold on Wanda’s waist and pushing your free hand into your pocket, then turning to the source of the voice.

Pepper takes the stairs quickly but with all the grace of a trained performer. She stops on the same step as you and smiles a little.“ I had to catch you before you left, Lena Luthor wanted me to give you this, and let you know that she’s expecting you at Luthor Corp soon.”

A slight frown pulls your eyebrows closer together as you stare down at the business card, her personal number scrawled on the back,“ did she say why?” Pepper simply shakes her head.

Truthfully she hadn’t been expecting Lena to approach her about you. Mainly because she had no idea the two of you met, she swore she’d introduced you to every investor there tonight.

“Okay, how soon is soon?”

An apprehensive smile tugs at her lips, brows raised slightly,“ four days.”

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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