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doe-eyed-fool · 2 months

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Prey | Chapter Two

Alastor x Fem!Reader

It was another busy day, rushing and trying not to trip as you brought food and drinks to awaiting costumers, and cleaning up the tables when they left. Thankfully, near the end of the day was somewhat easier. Most people would not be attending the diner that late in the evening, but you still had a few that would come in. Maybe five at the very most, if you were lucky.

As you were cleaning up a table, you hummed a tune. It was a song Alastor had played on his radio show earlier that day, and it had gotten stuck in your head. You sang a few words before going back to just humming them.

You always loved music, ever since you were a child, you would use any free time you had to settle by the radio and listen in. Your parents were just as passionate about music as you were, in fact, encouraging you to sing. When you were a kid, you loved to sing, especially if your parents joined in.

It was a fun thing to do as a family. You'd even put on "performances" for them sometimes. You'd stand up on a chair, and sing your little heart out for them. And they loved it, ate it up practically.

However, when your parents died a few years ago, you didn't feel that same passion for singing like you use to.

But every now and then, you'd find yourself singing. Whether it be looking back on memories of your parents, or just out of boredom.

While occupied by cleaning, you hadn't notice the person walking up behind you.

As you turn, you let out a quick gasp. "Oh!" Then you calmed as you noticed who it was. "Al, my goodness, don't do that." You sigh. How was he so quiet?

Alastor chuckled. "My apologize. I wanted to surprise you." You roll your eyes and cracked a small smile. "Well, you were successful. What are you doing here?" You ask. "Your shift is about to end, right? How about after you finish up here, I take you back home with me to celebrate?" He suggests. I give him a confused look.

"Celebrate my shift ending?" I raise an eyebrow. Alastor returned the same confused glance. "Y/n, dear, did you forget? It's your birthday."

Oh, that's right! Today is my birthday. "Gosh, how could I forget that?" I sigh, putting a hand to my head. "Perhaps, because you are overworked." Alastor smirks. "Better watch what you say Al." I say quietly. "My boss might hear."

My boss didn't care for Alastor, or people who looked like Alastor. It's a shame you have to work for such a man. If you had any choice, you'd give him a piece of your mind and storm out. Alastor's offer became more tempting every day, when it comes that old bigot...

"Let him." Alastor says bluntly. "I'm not afraid of lowly men like himself."

"Alastor. Please." I say firmly. Alastor backs off, for now. "Alright, alright. Anyhow, what do you say? I'd like to treat you to a nice dinner, maybe have a drink or two. You deserve it, you work so hard after all."

My smile returns to my face. He really was too sweet. "Ok. Just let me finish up here and I'll be right out."

The walk to Alastor's home would have been too long, so he drove the two of you there. With the money he had, he could have the best looking car out there. But he had one just like any other person did. As long as it drove, it was fine. That's what he would always thought.

His home on the other hand, was a different story.

It wasn't a mansion, but it was one of the more decent looking homes in town. Bigger than his old childhood home. Anyone could take one look at that house and think, "yeah, he's got money".

Alastor pulled up to the house, got out of the car and walked to the passenger side to let me out, like the gentlemen he is. I thank him and step out.

He leads you up to the house and let's you inside. The inside was just as, if not more, beautiful than the outside. Spacious and well kept, wonderfully decorated. Alastor liked hunting, deer specifically. So of course, he'd have a few antlers hung on his walls here and there. But of course it wasn't all antlers, he had framed pictures like any normal household.

Mostly of his mother.

Alastor lost his mother some time back. He was only seventeen when she died. It was one of the darkest times in his life. The worst you've ever seen him, depressed and unkept. He barely ate, he didn't even want to stay in that house. It hurt him too much, to be in the very place she died. It was haunting.

There so many memories made in that house. And after she died, he couldn't even bare to look at it.

But eventually, he accepted things, and went back. That's were he would stay as he would start his radio show career.

As you walked further into the house, a delicious aroma filled your nose. "You cooking something?" You asked. "It's my mother's old jambalaya recipe. I finished it a while ago, but I made sure to keep it warm for you."

"Ooh, I already know it's gonna to be good." Your stomach growled just thinking about it. "Your mother was always a great cook."

"She was." Alastor smiles fondly. "Come on." He leads you to the dining room.

Dinner was amazing, Alastor inherited many great qualities from his mother, and cooking was most certainly one of them. Throughout the meal, you and him talked about lots of things, but decided to keep work out of the discussion. Even Alastor had enough of his job at certain times, especially when inspiration failed to find him.

"Oh, I really shouldn't have anymore Al. I have work in the morning. I can't work with a nasty hangover, now can I?" You laugh lightly, as Alastor pours you another glass. "I think you can handle one more. You did when you went dancing with me some time back." Alastor says with a smirk. "Why don't we ever do that anymore, Y/n?"

"Well, we did all that when we weren't fully committed to work. You, with your radio show. Me, with the diner." You sigh. "But those we're good times, huh? Oh...to be young again."

"Y/n, you're twenty five as of today." Alastor chuckles. You laugh and take another sip. "See what this does to me." You say, holding up your glass. "I do wish things could be easy as they were back then though. We were new adults, just trying to have some fun before life finally settled in."

Alastor hums. "I don't life is suppose to be easy." He starts. "But I do understand what you mean. Responsibility comes for us all, in the end. Otherwise, we can't really call ourselves adults, now can we?"

"Mhm." You nod. "Al?"

"Yes?"

"What would you be doing, if you didn't start your radio show?" You ask. Alastor took a second to think before answering. "I don't know really. It's always been a passion of mine, the radio. I can't imagine a life without doing it. What about you?" He asks. "If you weren't working in that diner."

"I'd want to sing." Maybe it was the alcohol that made you truthfully answer, because normally you would have kept such a dream to yourself. You set your glass down, not really looking at Alastor as you spoke. "But, I'm afraid I missed the chance to chase after that dream. Like you said, we all got responsibilities. I can't waste my life trying for something, I know I won't be able to achieve."

"What makes you think that?" Alastor asks. You look at him, and smile weakly. "Look at me. Do I look like the type of person that screams, potential?"

Money was always the bane of your existence. You could never afford to make yourself look "proper", it was usually hand-me-downs or dirt cheap dresses you had to mend yourself to fit right. People would take one look at you, and know just what your financial status was.

"I'd be turned down right away." You tell him. "Y/n. I've heard you sing." Said Alastor. "If they heard you, they would have no choice but to accept you...I tell you what." He begins. "How about I talk with Mimzy and-"

"Alastor, you don't have to do that." You cut interrupt him gently. "I don't even know Mimzy that well."

"Oh, but I do." Alastor smirks. "Me and her go way back, she'll listen to me." He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. He takes your hand and you stand as well. "Y/n, you wouldn't let me help you before. And I think it's because you think you can handle yourself and earn whatever money you get. That's fine." He continues. "But, if you are really wanting this, then let me help you take the first step. I want you to be happy Y/n, and I know you're not happy at that diner. Not really. So please..." His hold on your hands tightened slightly.

"Let me do this for you."

You sigh softly. "I get the feeling you wont stop pestering me if I say no." Alastor shrugs, you smile. "Alright. But if she says no, I don't want you bothering her with it any further."

"Wonderful! I'll stop by her lounge, first thing int he morning! You won't regret this, Y/n. I swear it."

You hope you wouldn't. But, you trusted Alastor. If there was anyone who could convince someone to do a favor, it was Alastor. He was just gifted with that charm of his. And the smile didn't hurt either, in fact, it's what landed him in a lot of good situations.

Maybe you had a chance after all...

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel

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lucarioisinthevoid · 2 years

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Epilogue ask time!! Okay, so I have been thinking about this non-stop ever since I read that line near the end, i dunno which chapter it was but it must've been before the Henry boss battle--Mike basically says something along the lines of "save that for the wedding" to Simon, and now I H A V E to ask. What would Simon and Mike's wedding REALLY be like? Would they invite everyone? What would their wedding cake look like? (gosh, I am SO pumped up for this couple, they are so goshdarn cute--)

.(I honestly can’t recall why I haven’t answered this ask when it was time :c I’m sorry Yeah, epilogue ask time! Even if you might never will see this answer, hah. Sorry for having been gone so long! But better late than never and all that. ALSO: TUMBLR DOESN'T PERMIT LONG ANSWERS ANYMORE? I'LL TRY TO EDIT IN THE WHOLE THING AFTER POSTING, BUT IF YOU CAN'T FIND IT, YOU’LL KNOW IT’S ON MY AO3)

It was a normal day in the renamed Afton household. Which means that the household was currently a dilapidated Freddy’s. Unlike most dilapidated Freddy’s, this just felt mildly depressing and empty. Any soul that would have haunted the immediate area was gone by now, as Dave and Old Sport were busy to pick the last few springlocks out of Dave’s skin. “How many children are we at now? This has at least been thirty! How did you even MANAGE to capture so many kids without anyone EVER noticing?” “Hey, Old Sport, it ain’t my fault that 460,000 children go missin’ every year! I’ve only ever gotten like- yeah, 30 a year, at best! With all the police swarmin’ and all that. That ain’t nothin’ compared to children goin’ missin’ every year!” “… we’ve only made it through ONE year’s worth of your murder?!” “Eh, we’re makin’ pretty good progress if you ask me-“ The door to the room was very abruptly slammed open. Circus Baby stood in there and after an appropriately dramatic pause, she came inside and slammed a few pictures onto the table. “IMPORTANT NEWS, DADS! MIKE AND SIMON ARE CURRENTLY ON THE MOVE. INTEL SAYS THIS IS THE LOCATION!” “You don’t need to scream, we hear you just fine!” Old Sport leaned back, relaxed. “Ooooh, pretty!” Dave picked up the images. “Yes… too pretty.” Baby scoffed. “Don’t you notice something about these pictures?” “Ya really got talkin’ like a crazy detective down. That Ethan guy really impressed you, didn’t he?” “No- no! Not at all!” She huffed and turned a bit. “But just- look! There’s a church there! And travelling all the way there… isn’t it clear what is going on?!” “Enlighten us, my body is ready.” Interested the Orange Guy leaned forward. “They. Are. Trying to…” A pause. Then abruptly she ripped one of her arms up, pointing a finger into nowhere. “MARRY!” “WHAT!?” “YES! AND THEY HAVEN’T INVITED US. AND FROM COMMUNICATION WITH BASE-“ “Oh, did you say hi to Jeremy for us?” “Yeah, I did- BUT NO THE POINT. COMMUNICATION WITH BASE REVEALED: THEY HAVE ALSO NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OPERATION. MIKE AND SIMON HAVE GONE ROGUE AND PLAN TO GET MARRIED PATHETICALLY AND ALONE WITHOUT ANY OF THEIR FRIENDS. CAN WE STAND FOR THAT!?” Immediately, the both of them stood up. “NO SIR!” “THAT IS WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR: OPERATION ‘BIG WEDDING, IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT’ COMMENCES N O W!” The fact that maybe, POTENTIALLY these two were just going on a nice trip was carefully considered by Old Sport and then passionately discarded. As was the potential that they weren’t invited on purpose. Or that there were still children’s souls to save. They waited decades- surely, they could wait some more, eh? - - - Mike was the first to wake up. He was groggy and confused, but his hand immediately reached for his partner. “Ssss- simon…?” A cough beside him snapped him fully out of it. Simon was stirring besides him, groaning. Quickly Mike leaned over him, gently slapping his face. “Simon?! Please- wake the fuck up.” “… Mike…?” It came back, as groggy. Then, a soft, raspy laugh. “… you look… beautiful… am I dreaming…?” “Christ, Si. What’s with the sentimentalities? Wake up.” Shifting on the spot, the heavy fabric around his legs confused him for a moment- “WHAT THE FUCK.” Jumping back, he stared down at himself, inspecting baffled the completely white and glittering wedding dress he was wearing. Now that he thought of it- Simon was wearing an elegant dark suit with a light blue tint. “What the FUCK!?” “Aaah… were we kidnapped?” Simon got slowly up, looking around, not caring too much about his appearance. “… you’d think now that we’re away from Freddy’s, that would be over…” Flustered, Mike stood up straight and gritted his teeth. “… whoever the fuck did it, I’ll break their necks. You don’t fuck with a Freddy’s veteran, not if you want to live.” Simon just snorted in response, but allowed Mike to gentle help him up- laughing a little again, as Mike carefully checked him over. “Really- I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just a bit dizzy.” “Good. Their deaths will be quick instead of slow then.” They spotted a door. Their exit? Carefully they approached- and before Mike could try the handle, a hand wrapped itself around his. Looking back, Simon had furrowed his brow and nodded determinedly at him. We have been through worse. Together we will get out. They pushed open the door… … light flooded in. Immediate cheers from all sides and elegant organ music was playing. Glitter and white petals were falling from over them, as they tried to desperately to regain orientation. They were in a giant church, and the benches were filled with animatronics, fellow Phone Guys who looked rather confused, and at the very front was Jeremy, in a priestly outfit, smiling and waving at them. “CONGRATULATION!!!!” Marion was by his side like a shadow, looking skeptical- but also raising a hand in greeting. Old Sport was nowhere to be seen, however it turned out terrifyingly enough that it was Dave of all people on the organ, playing his heart out in the fanciest clothes he seemed to find. Actually, all these fancy suits seemed to have a similar style… “… did you rob a fucking wedding dress venue?!” Baby by the front gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. “ABSOLUTELY! ONLY THE BEST FOR YOU! Well- I wanted to give BOTH of you dresses, but Jeremy said that wasn’t traditional and that we didn’t know what you would want- so eh. I’m sorry, I gave my best to make BOTH of you beautiful.” Funtime Freddy didn’t even need to raise his voice to be audible over the cheers. “YYY---YYEAH! S-S-soo we G-GAVE it to the one who- one who- NEEDED IT THE MOST! HA-AHAHAha-A-A-A-AHAHAH!” Simon stood up straighter. “DO NOT TALK THIS WAY ABOUT MY MIKE! OR I’LL- I’LL UH- KICK YOU OUT OF MY WEDDING, RIGHT NOW!” “No—NOOOOO!” Funtime Freddy looked horrified. “I- I- AM SOooOO- S-SORRY! P-Pleas-eee-e! Don’t- don’t- kick m-e-e-e OUT!“ “Then watch yourself.” Simon dragged Mike a bit closer. “… are we actually fucking doing this?” Quietly Mike whispered to him as they walked up the rows. “… we should play along for now… and if we see a chance, we’ll get out. Take revenge, or- uh- whatever.” “If you say so. I’m with you to the end.” They arrived in front of Jeremy, who made a gesture to quiet the room, with Dave taking the que to play a quieter, marriage appropriate song on his instrument. “Hey, uh- Jeremy.” Casually Simon started, clearly having a plan. “I appreciate this, but uh- you’re not a priest, right? Aren’t only priests allowed to do stuff like this? Baptism, marriage, all that? We can wait for you guys to find a proper priest…” Sadly, Jeremy’s lovely smile broke that hope immediately. “Oh, actually, protestants are allowed to baptize themselves if no priest is there. I think as long as two witnesses are there…? But yes. Same for marriage! No worries- I gladly do it! I also made the cake!” The promised couple turned their head around to spot a giant cake. Beautiful multiple layers of delicious goodness. “It’s with strawberries!” Happily Jeremy said. “I picked the motive.” Cooly Marion pointed out. “Jeremy almost made a golden Fredbear and Springbonnie cake.” “It would have been cute.” Jerry pouted, but Marion’s eyes didn’t leave Phone Guy. “… I thought a cool fire motive would connect with you guys better.” And indeed, the huge red and orange cake was a piece of art with glass-like sugar tips that looked out and broke the light like a frozen fire. The rest of it looked mouth-watering filling, vanilla and chocolate pieces on top, to completement the fruity mass. Mike nudged Simon’s side. How about doing it for the free cake? Simon shrugged, not opposed. Jeremy rose his arms. “We have gathered today, to witness the wonderful and loving union of these two people. You will know them as your friends, your employers, to some even our heroes-“ “Can we speed it up?” Mike scoffed. Dave from above laughed. “TOLD YOU GUYS THEY WOULDN’T WANT THE WHOLE SPIEL.” Looking a tiny bit offended, Jeremy shook his head. “Fine, fine. Okay, so, in the name of god, pledging your lives, in sickness and in health, good times and bad times, through everything that could live throw at you- will you, Simon McCall, take Mike Schmidt as your husband?” What was that for a question even? Simon paused, looking into Mike’s storm-grey eyes. Those with the hint of blue, those that had looked at him so often in his life. The first time he hired him, the first time he stormed into his office complaining about the animatronics moving, the ones that had called him out relentlessly… the ones that had looked at him with untypical worry after he had fallen sick, the ones looking at him with apprehension, that slowly turned to trust… from then to now, this man had gone through all with him. Through all the disappointments, the terrors, the victories, the problems. “Yes, I do.” The words came out of him unintentionally seriously. But he meant them with his whole heart. “Good! Mike, through sickness and health, through the good and the bad-“ “Yes, I do.” Mike answered with an intensity untypical of him. A seriousness that could hardly be rivaled, only matched by Simon’s before him. They had been through sickness and health before, through pain and joy, through everything life could do to them. And for Simon? He would do it all again. Without hesitation. Jeremy sniffled a little, clearly moved. “Then- I shall declare you husband and husband. Put the rings onto each other’s fingers and kiss, a union for all to see.” A door to the side had opened among the cheers and cries of the audience and the glammed up Old Sport came out, holding a box. The noises of celebration became louder when he stepped beside Jeremy, between the couple and opened the box. Mike and Simon stayed quiet however. “… those are fucking grenades.” Cheerful Old Sport pointed at the golden rings with each two red and a blue stone at the top of the grenades. “No worries, the rings are at this part here. All you gotta do is pull them off!” “They will blow up if we do that.” “Love will protect you <3” “… how did you make that noise with your- you know what, never-fucking-mind.” The church had gone quiet again at this point, everyone watching breathlessly. Slowly Mike looked deep into Simon’s dial. They nodded slowly, at the same time. Their heartbeats were in totally synchroneity. It was time. Both of them picked up their respective grenade slowly. The entire church held their breath- Within one immediate movement they pulled their respective rings over and in the same movement, Phone Guy dropped it in Old Sport’s hands while Mike chucked it with ALL power to the place were Dave was sitting, who in response JUMPED, but not AWAY, no! TOWARDS it, reaching out to catch the bomb, while Marion had already grabbed Jeremy, pulling him upwards, out of the blast radius, while Mike and Simon at the same time rushed towards the door, past the confused attendants, who made gasps of confusion- Rolling over the ground, Dave held up his one, smiling like a maniac. “OLD SPORT! OLD SPORT LOOK! I CAUGHT IT! THAT MEANS WE GET MARRIED NEXT! OLD SPORT-“ B O O M ! Thankfully, the grenades had simply been smoke ones that were fitted to look and to some degree sound like real ones. However, the smoke was extensive and cough-inducing and when it cleared, Mike and Simon were gone. “These BASTARDS!” Old Sport called out, rubbing his soot-smeared face. “Ah, the eagerness of freshly married couples.” Dave put a hand on his chest. “Gotta say, I’m jealous.” “Not THAT!” Disgruntled Old Sport pointed at the table that had stood by the exit. “THEY TOOK OUR ENTIRE CAKE!” “What!?” Appalled Dave cried out. “Unbelievable! These fuckin’ sewer rats. Next time we ain’t gonna invite them to their weddin’, bet they’ll feel stupid then!” - - - Somewhere, far away, a camper stood, with two people sitting on top of it. Each of them held a place with a big piece of deliciously expensive and sweetly flavored cake. “You win some, you lose some.” Mike took a bit bite. “But I think we won more.” “Where do you think they got these rings from?” Carefully Simon inspected the admittedly beautiful ring on his finger. “You think they, uh- stole it?” “Probably.” A shrug. “But I mean- well. Do we want to be married to each other with stolen rings…?” For a moment they looked at each other. Then they both shrugged. “Yeah, fucking whatever.” “Totally fine by me.”

#microphone #simon mccall #mike schmidt #Dave Miller #Old Sport

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dinobae · 2 years

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Caught In Their Webs (Part One)

Warnings: fluff, some angst, swear words, some steamy stuff

Nothing to interesting yet just some set up for the next chapter. Things start to get steamy, next chapter. I'm very exited for the spice!

Andrews!Peter= Peter Toms!Peter= Parker Tobeys!Peter = Pete

You were sat in your bed, staring at your door with an intensity, petrified that at any second the door would open, or someone would knock, and you’d have to deal with the inevitable.

After your Peter left, you were left alone with the two other Peters. Your head, still absolutely reeling in shock from the new information, as well as the fact that there were now two handsome boys or Peters in front of you. You said nothing, and simply walked past them awkwardly, walking to your room with haste. Slamming the door shut behind you and falling onto your bed.

That had been three hours ago. The sun had set, and you were started to get hungry as dinner time came, yet you were still glued to your bed. Staring at the door as you had been for hours, unaware of what exactly you should do. You had texted your Peter at least 30 times, but he had simply replied with a ‘I’ll be back late tonight, after 10’ a text that had done nothing to calm your nerves.

You sighed dramatically, falling back into your pillows, and checking your phone. A bright picture of you and Peter hugging in the snow greeted you, along with a blaring 7:47pm. “Ughh!” you groaned. Slowly you sat up and walked to your dresser tossing of your shirt and pants with the intent to change into something more comfortable and talk to the other Peters, before a knock startled you and you turned to see the door opening slowly opening, to shocked to shout out.

Peter 3’s head popped in “Hi um, we were just wondering if you were…. Oh my gosh oh god I’m so sorry!” he yelped, turning, and slamming his head into the side of your door frame in his rush to shut your door. You heard a hard thud on the other side of the door once it was shut, along with a rushed whisper of ‘what the hell happened?’ from the other Peter.

“Oh my god, what the fuck even is my life!” you yelled at your roof, turning back to the and staring at in anger, now even less keen to exit your room. Not that you thought that could’ve been possible a moment ago. Quickly dressing, in some of your nicer clothes, which you totally didn’t do on purpose, you walked to your mirror. You gave yourself a once over, and quickly fixed your hair, for absolutely no reason ‘god stop it Y/N, you don’t need to look cute’ you snapped internally. Walking to the door you halted at the handle. You took a deep breath in, mentally preparing yourself, before you opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

You walked into the loungeroom, where the two Peters sat on your couch. Peter 2, looking at you kindly a small smile gracing his handsome features. Whilst the Peter 3 was staring at his feet, face beet red. You sighed, before walking in and sitting on the table in front of them, folding your hand into your lap.

“Ok, this um needs to happen I guess,” you spoke, a sudden determination filling you.

Peter 2 coughed softly, “Well perhaps formal introductions are in order. Um, I’m Peter 2 to you guys, but in my universe, I’m known as Peter Benjamin Parker, I was bitten by a genetically modified spider at a school trip, and I became Spiderman. And three of my old villains, who I fought very long ago are now here in your universe as well.” Peter 2 spoke softly, nudging Peter 3 softly after he was finished.

Peter 3 sat up straight, a faint blush still on his cheeks as he avoided your eyes, “I’m Peter 3, and well I’m also Peter Parker, I snuck into Oscorp industries, and I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and I became the amazing Spiderman. Um, two of my villains are here as well.”

“Wait, there are others from your universes here. Villains?” you questioned. “Is that where my Peter is?”

Both Peters sat up straighter, Peter 2 spoke first, “When your Peter had the strange doctor do his spell something went wrong and we were suddenly in this universe. We found each other quickly, but where still not sure how many others there are yet, but so far we pretty sure that there is just five others.”

Peter 3 leaned forward, face suddenly serious “Your Peter and the doctor have found and captured two so far, but the other three still have to be caught,” he spoke seriously.

“Um, so once the other three are caught things will be fixed then, and you two will go back to your universe?” you questioned softly.

The two Peters glanced at each other before turning back to you. “Unfortunately, It’s not that simple, there are certain conditions in which the spell was first created, those conditions need to be met again for the spell to be fixed” Peter 3 spoke.

“That and the doctor said he had no clue how to fix the spell, said something about unusual complications not mentioned in the books. He was uttering something about refusing to go to Wong and that he can do this all himself,” Peter 2 spoke pensively, leaning back in his seat. “First, we actually have to catch the others villain's, but we have no clue where they are. Which is what your Peter is working on now.”

Peter 3 clapped his hands together, “Then we let your magician do his magic spell, and bam we go back home,” he grinned.

You pursed your lips, nodding your head softly, “and who are these villains exactly? Are they dangerous?” you questioned softly.

The atmosphere shifted instantly, both Peters suddenly tense in their chairs. After a few moments of silence Peter 2 spoke up, “There’s Doctor Otto Octavius an…. He has already been captured. Flint Marko or the Sandman, and worst of all is Norman Osborn or the Green Goblin.” He turned away softly a sad look on his face, “They were once great men. All three of them”

Peter 3 placed his hand on Peter 2’s shoulder in comfort, before turning to you, “My foes are Doctor Curt Connors or the Lizard.” Your eyebrow shot up in question at that one. “As well as Max Dillon or Electro. They were my friends once” he spoke softly, a saddened look in his eyes as he looked at his shoes.

Your eyes went between the two handsome boys, heart heavy as you looked at their saddened faces. “Hey.” You whispered softly; both the boys looked at you intently. “Let’s order some pizza huh!” you said standing up.

Walking away from the two boys you turned your head back to them, “hmm, I wonder… three pepperoni pizzas, extra cheese?” you questioned, giggling when both the boys sat upright immediately, excitement clear on their faces. You walked into the kitchen pulling out your phone, “Oh, and I am not calling Peter 2 and Peter 3 so I’m going to have to figure something out with that” you cried out. Drawing out a chuckle from both the boys.

------------------

An hour later all three of you were sat on the lounge, watching TV whilst waiting for your Peter to return. “Wait, so you’re telling me that neither of your universe have Rick and Morty? That is a travesty!” You cried out, from where you were sandwiched between the two boys. Both enthralled by the show on your tv. “Oh my god I wonder what else you guys don’t have.” You spoke in shock.

“Hmmm, it’s reminding me of mick and molly, in fact its quite identical,” Peter 3 mumbled, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in your lap and stuffing it into his mouth.

“What the fuck.” You mumbled out, bewildered. Peter 2 chuckling beside you. “Hmm that reminds me, I’ve thought it through and I’m calling you” you pointed at Peter 2, who raised an eyebrow at you smirking softly. “Pete!” you chirped, poking his chest softly, to which he chuckled softly. “And I’m just calling you Peter, and my Peter shall be foremost called Parker or bug boy, both names are used by my friends more than his real name anyway” you laughed, poking Peters chest as you spoke. Face flushing when he shot you a giant grin.

“Hell, yeah I get to keep my name” He cheered, making Pete snort beside you. Pete’s hand reaching into the popcorn just as you did. Your hands brushed each other, and a bright blush covered your cheeks whilst a low blush covered his face. You turned back to the TV, with a cough.

“So um, going back to the topic of things that are different in your universes,” you started. “Umm, well do either of you have… um significant others waiting for you in your universes,” you mumbled out, cursing yourself internally for your awkwardness. Both the spiders tensed suddenly tensed, a sad look in his eyes.

Before you could question it, Pete spoke out, “Well, I had my fiancé MJ, but well were kind of taking a very long break at the moment… we haven’t spoken in over a year” he mumbled out. You bit your lip, internally screaming at yourself for asking the question and ruining the mood. Your eyes strayed over to Peter, who had tears in his eyes, and every bone in your body was screaming at you to hold him but you stopped yourself.

“I um, had someone. Her name was Gwen…” he struggled to get the words out.

“Peter its ok, you don’t have to.” You started, but he cut you off quickly.

“No its ok… i had Gwen uh, well she was my MJ, and there was a fight and I… I wasn’t fast enough to catch her and she… she… she um died,” he finally chocked out, clearly trying so hard not to cry. Before the rational part of your brain could register it, you were wrapped around him tightly. Holding onto him as if he would fall, if you let go. He stilled for a moment before he let out a deep sigh and hugged you back tightly. A few moments passed and you felt Pete behind you, hesitantly hugging you both from behind your back. You reached one arm back to hold him as well, a silent confirmation that his touch was welcome. He hugged you tighter after which.

"My Peter, has an MJ to," you mumbled out softly, both the Peters hugging you even tighter after which, as if they knew that it made you sad.

You sat there for ages, simply holding each other and breathing softly. You didn’t know why you felt so comfortable and content in their arms, and you sure didn’t know why you felt so protective and caring for these boys you had just met. But everything in you was screaming give these boys the world. You held each other till the tv went silent. You glanced up from Peter’s shoulder, looking at the Netflix’s are you still their prompt. “Do you guys have the office in your universes,” your whispered, mind randomly suggesting a movie name of the top of your head.

Peter sniffled softly letting you go gently, “no, what’s that?”

Pete also softly let you go, "we have the workplace. Maybe its like that," he uttered

You looked at him bewildered, "seriously, what the fuck even."

------------------

And that’s how your Peter, or rather for this week, your Parker found the three of you when he arrived. The three of you practically sitting on top of each other, watching finding nemo, your hand still resting on Peters arm gently. Something he bristled at, before silently chastising himself, confused as to why a simple thing enraged him so.

“Hey, I’m back!” he called from the window, jumping in with a grin. “Got some progress about the spell. Um mister strange says he knows of a book that has information about how to fix the spell. Uh he just needs to fix it.” Parker started. “Oh, Y/N um I should probably explain everything now, well you see…”

“There’s no need Parker, they’ve already filled me in on the villains, mixed with the fact that doctor strange, is apparently a stubborn man who helped you break the multiverse and refuses to ask for help. Very inappropriate for a time thingie if you ask me. The real question is did you find any more of these missing villains or no?” You stood as you spoke one hand on your hip, and another pointed at Parker accusingly.

“Um, well there still missing.” Parker said, hands wringing together anxiously. “But we seem to think that we might now where one might be… tomorrow” he said anxiously. Both the other peters letting out a sigh at his words. “But don’t worry, MJ and Ned are coming over tomorrow and were going to figure everything out. MJs already got some great ideas.” Peter started, a loving face on his features as he spoke of MJ. You tensed sharply, something that did not go unnoticed by the other two Peters.

“Alright then Parker, so is there anything that we can do tonight?” you questioned Parker, failing to keep the attitude out of your voice.

“Um, well no… why are you um calling me parker,” he questioned softly, his features falling into a soft frown.

“Well, I refused to call you numbers… So, your Parker, he’s Peter and he’s Pete,” you pointed, accordingly as you spoke. “Now, if there’s nothing else, we can do tonight… then I guess we should just call it a night then. So I guess you can just leave now,” you sighed, stalking towards the hall for your bedroom before halting.

You turned to face Pete and Peter, “um, I guess Peter can take the guest room and the Pete can take my parents room,” you stated, pointed to the doors down the hallways as you spoke. “I am going to bed,” you sighed, walking away from the boys without another word.

Parker stood frozen at the window confusion evident on his face. He’d noticed you had been straying from the group, recently and was missing his best friend. The poor boy had no clue what he was doing wrong. But he knew it was him that was causing your distance from the group. The other two Peters were giving him knowing looks, like they knew exactly what he was going through. He gave them both awkward smiles, and quickly left through the window. Intent on clearing his head, with a few hours of patrol.

----------------------

You were getting dressed into your pajamas, teeth brushed and ready to go to sleep. Already anxious for tomorrow when you heard a soft knock. You turned to the door, scared to be caught changing again but the door remained shut tight.

“Um come in,” you shouted out, after you’d quickly dressed.

Peter stuck his head in, “Hi, I um… I waited for you to tell me I could come in this time,” he said a proud look on his face.

You giggled softly at the look on his face, “well, yes that is what most people do,” giggling even more as his face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, sorry about earlier, I’ve always been really bad at that aha… done it to you way to much” he whispered the last part so softy you barely caught it. You were confused by the phrase but decided against saying anything. You both stood in silence for a while.

“Did you need something, or?” you questioned, after an awkward length of silence had passed.

“Oh! Um I just wanted to say goodnight, and just let you know if you need anything just let me know ya know aha,” he laughed out awkwardly.

“Oh, well you’re the guest shouldn’t you tell me if you need something?” you questioned with a laugh.

He froze, a bright red blush on his cheeks, “yeah right of course, you’re a fucking idiot Peter!” he said smacking his head as he spoke. “I’m just going to go. Um, goodnight” he said as he stumbled back to the door. You laughed at his soft and gentle awkwardness, staring at the closed door with a fond smile.

‘he’s really cute’ you thought, before shaking your head. ‘Woah girl, where the hell did that come from! You can not get a crush on the damn alternate universe Peter Parker’ you said shaking your head as you crawled into your bed. ‘I suppose all of them are very cute. Arghh stop it bad thoughts!’

“Ugh,” you groaned out, before you finally fell back into your bed falling into a fitful sleep. Not wanting to deal with tomorrow already.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #tasm peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield x reader #tobey!peter parker x reader smut #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!peter parker #tobey!peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker #tom peter parker x reader #series #spiderboys x reader #peter parker smut

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 2 years

Text

The Coffee Shop

Florence Pugh X f!reader

a/n: Hey! I don't know if you guys have seen these new photos of Flo or not (attached below) but I just felt love struck when I saw them. So much so that I HAD to write a fic inspired by them...so, I hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 2090

Concept: You go to a coffee shop where you meet a short-haired brunette that has you falling head over heels.

Warnings: Not much, mainly just some fluff, NOT proofread.

Taglist: @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @wandanatvoid @3xbyrn320 @thorya22 @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @wandanatvoid @ailenepuff

You were in LA for the week on a girl's trip but were originally from New York. You and your friends just wanted to get away for a bit somewhere warm because winter in NYC can get very cold. None of you had been to LA before so this was a whole new experience for the three of you. You are naturally an early bird but your friends always sleep in, so, you’re alone for probably a good three hours every morning. Today when you woke up, you knew they were not going to be out of bed any earlier than noon since the three of you were out late clubbing last night. You decided to go to a nearby coffee shop and sit down to edit some of the photos you’ve taken on your trip so far. You love taking photos of people whenever you go somewhere new. You never sold these pictures as they are ones that you technically don’t have consent to take but it’s sort of like a small passion project of yours. Other than that, you are an architecture photographer as your full-time job. With photography as a passion and you already being three days into the trip, you had a whole SD card of pictures to edit. So, you grab your camera bag and head out the door, being sure to leave a note behind in case they do get up earlier.

You found a nice quiet coffee shop near your hotel, not a Starbucks but a genuine coffee shop where they took pride in making their drinks as opposed to pumping as many of them out each hour as they could. You get a latte and settle down in a seat near a window at the back of the coffee shop. It was only you and a couple of other people there as it was still fairly early. You figured this place doesn’t get super busy as it was fairly secluded from the main streets of LA and not a major franchise. You sat there for what felt like an hour sifting through photos and 2 coffees and a scone later you were finally ready to start editing. As you eject your SD card and put it back in your camera you look up to see a brunette walking through the door of the coffee shop.

You were honestly stunned by this human being. She was beautiful in every way imaginable Her smile, her hair, her eyes, oh my gosh her nose. She had the most perfect nose. You knew you had to take a photo to add to your LA collection of portraits so you turned your camera on and started focusing your lens as she had her coffee order taken. You snapped a few photos and while your head was looking down at the tiny screen on your DSLR you hear someone talking.

“Hello.” A beautiful thick British accent says. “Hello? Hi.”

You look up not realizing she was talking to you. “Oh– Hi! Sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me.” You say with a smile.

“Yeah uh, sorry, but I was just wondering if you could not post those?”

“Post?” You respond confused.

“Yeah, the pictures? You were taking photos of me, right? Sorry, I just, I know it’s your job as paparazzi to take photos and sell or post them but I have successfully kept this coffee shop one of my quiet places when I come to visit LA and I would like to keep it that way.” She says in a genuine tone.

Did you take a photo of a famous person and you didn’t even realize that they were famous?

“OH! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude–”

“No, no, it’s okay. Like I said, I know it’s your job–”

“No!” You abruptly cut her off. “Sorry, I just, I’m not a paparazzi.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I um, I’m just a photographer and I have this small little passion project thing I do where I take pictures of people that stand out to me when I travel around the world. It’s sort of like a side thing I do for personal enjoyment. Otherwise, I’m shooting architecture.”

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume, it’s just been a really crazy week with people following me around and this is the one place I come to get away from it all.”

“No, I totally understand. I can delete the photos if you’d like?” You say as you turn your screen towards her and show her the raw photo you took.

“No that won’t be– Woah. That’s a great photo. You took that just now?”

“Yeah.” You say with a smile.

“That’s amazing work uh…”

“y/n.”

“y/n. That’s amazing work y/n. Also, you have a beautiful name I must say. I’m Florence by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you Florence.”

“It’s lovely to meet you.”

“FLORENCE!” You hear yelled from behind her as the barista holds up her drink.

“Looks like that's me, it was nice chatting with you.”

“And you!”

You continue to edit your photos as she turns around and walks to get her coffee, thinking that was the end of that interaction when suddenly you hear, “Hey again, would you mind actually if I sat down and watched you edit some photos?”

“Yeah of course!” You say in an eager tone. It’s not often that someone shows this much interest in your work.

“I took these when I travelled to Venice about a month ago.” You say, showing her the different portraits you took on your trip.

“Wow. y/n, you have some serious talent love. Do you sell prints or anything of your work?”

“Not really, not too many people are interested. I live in a really small apartment with my best friends in New York and it is seriously overpriced and working as a photographer isn’t really cutting it. When I head back after this trip I think I’m going to have to get a different job and just do photography as a hobby.”

“Nonsense! That’s ridiculous. You need to be taking photos y/n! Your work is just amazing, you have a great eye and I think I know someone who would agree.”

“I have an ex-boyfriend, his name is Zach Braff, we are still close but I know he would love your work and he’s actually working in New York right now.”

“Sorry…Zach Braff? Like the popular actor from Scrubs? You dated him?”

Florence just sort of chuckles at your response. “Yes.”

“Oh my gosh, Florence, I feel terrible, I feel like I should recognize you but I’m so sorry nothing is coming to mind. Is there something I might have seen you in?”

“It’s okay! It’s honestly refreshing meeting someone who isn’t talking to me just because I’m famous.”

“Well, I must say, you are quite lovely to talk to.”

Her cheeks turn a shade of red at your kind words.

“Well, thank you. You are too and I’d love to hire you to do some work for me. Your stuff is seriously amazing. Plus, I’m heading to New York to shoot a movie next week so if we exchange contact info we could maybe meet up?”

“Sure! That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Oh, and to answer your question, I haven’t been in too much…not sure if you are a Marvel fan but I do play one character in that universe. Yelena Belova, Natasha Romanoff's sister.”

Your eyes feel like they grow three times in size and blood is rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh– There it is aha.” She says. “Looks like something clicked.”

“Okay, well. Now I feel even worse for not recognizing you. I want to say the new hair and different accent is what messed me up but honestly, that’s just totally on me. I am so sorry. But! I did love you in Black Widow and Hawkeye.” You say with a grin.

“Thank you. I hope this doesn’t change anything between us? I just want you to see me as the same old Florence, the person that you randomly met in a coffee shop and not famous actor Florence.”

“Yes, of course. Besides, it was your natural beauty that had me taking pictures of you in the first place.” You say with a cheeky grin and in a teasing tone.

“Oh stop it,” Florence responds giving you a little nudge on your arm that causes the two of you to start laughing. “You’re not too shabby yourself y/n.”

You felt yourself blushing again at Florence lightly flirting with you. You look up at her and just for a second get lost in her eyes as the sun was coming through the window just right.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah! Sorry. I just um, zoned out.”

“No problem, I was just asking for your number.”

“Oh my number! Yes, for sure, sorry let me write it down for you.” You pause for a second in place. “Actually Flo, could I um, could I take another photo of you? I just, I have this vision that I’m seeing right now.”

“Oh? Yes! For sure. Let me see the master at work.” She says with a chuckle.

You pull out your camera again and take a few scoots backwards in your chair as you pull the viewfinder up to your face. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw how beautiful she looked with the sun naturally highlighting her face. She noticed your smile behind the camera which caused a big one to come across her face. She was grinning ear to ear.

“You look beautiful Flo.”

Her cheeks are then brought out more in these photos as they turn a light shade of pink from your compliment. Her nose scrunches up and she shows more teeth in her smile and it was one of the best photos you have ever taken. You pull the camera down from your face and lock eyes with her. You had this feeling in your stomach, absolute butterflies. You were falling for this random girl in a coffee shop you had just met that apparently just so happened to also be a movie star. You moved back towards her and she leaned towards you a little and the two of you were extremely close to one another's faces.

“Are you guys all done with these?” A waitress asked pointing to your mugs and plates causing you two to practically jump backwards from one another.

“Uh, yeah, yes, sorry, yes please take them.” You say.

She grabs your plates and as she walks away the two of you make eye contact and just burst out laughing from mild embarrassment.

The two of you exchange contact information and Florence walks you back to your hotel around the corner.

“Well y/n, it was lovely meeting you and I can’t wait to do work with you in the future. Oh, and I will be sure to pass your information along to Zach too.”

“Thanks so much, Flo and it was great to meet you too…sorry again for not recognizing you.”

She just chuckles. “It’s no problem. As I said, I’m just a girl you met in a coffee shop.”

A warm smile comes across your face as she leans in to hug you goodbye.

You head back up to your room and as you open the door you were feeling absolutely love-struck like you were floating in your own world.

“So, where are our coffees?” You hear one of your friends say.

“Shit– Sorry guys.”

The two of them just look at you with the most exhausted expressions.

“If it’s any consolation, I think I just met the love of my life.” You say.

They both perk up with interest as you sit down and explain to them everything that happened. Once you were done, they both decided to go and get ready as your phone binged. You look down to see a newly added contact pop up.

“Hey, it’s Flo! It really was lovely meeting you today, I hope that we can meet up again in New York and maybe not just for work or coffee next time? ;) p.s. Send me the pic you took of me!! Your work needs to be shared with the world!”

Reading this text brought all the butterflies back to your stomach. You couldn’t wait for the adventure that awaited you when you got home.

– The End –

#cooking with flo #florence pugh smut #fluff #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fanfic #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh angst #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #black widow #mcu #marvel #yelena belova imagine #yelena x reader #yelena belova smut

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

Family/Friends

Marinette was tired! She had been up all night doing commissions, homework, and working on the Hawkmoth problem. She needed coffee, and she needed it now. Curse Tim for infecting her with his insomniac lifestyle. She could hear the jerk laughing at her from an ocean away. As she sipped at the concoction she called, “Resurrection” and she could actually see clearly she realized that the laughing was not in her head, nor was it an ocean away, it was a few feet away from her laying casually on her couch.

She stared at her brother while still sipping her coffee waiting for her brain to log back on.

“Going to offer me any?”

He finally asked with a smirk. The cheeky ahole.

“No.”

She said blankly.

“Please Bean?”

She placed a finger to her chin and pretended to consider before repeating,

“No.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up taking quick steps to reach and hug her. She rolled her eyes and held the coffee over her head.

“I’m not letting you steal it either!”

He grumbled and pulled away.

“Now, where are the others and why are you here. I have to be somewhere soon.”

“We can’t just visit our baby sister.”

She raised an unamused brow making him sigh and roll his eyes.

“Fine, B took away the WiFi and Babs helped so I can’t hack it. So….”

“So, you thought you could mooch off mine? In Paris?”

“Well, since we understand the importance of finishing work I thought you’d understand?”

She paused and blinked at him, taking a slow sip of her coffee before sighing.

“Yea fine, just as long as you don’t do anything stupid and keep your emotions in check.”

“Thanks Bean.”

He said going in for another hug, and she quickly— it was graceful, she did not trip or stumble— ducked away.

“Nope, I know your tricks.”

She said as she hugged her mug to her chest and glared at the pouting man before he trudged back to the couch and laptop.

“Do the others know you're here?”

She asked as she finished off her mug and rinsed it in the sink.

“They shouldn’t.”

Marinette hummed and went upstairs to get ready for her group hangout.

_________

Marinette laughed at the joke Nino made. She felt so happy being surrounded by her friends, that was until she spotted someone. Quickly she excused herself and calmly and walked up to the man.

“Whatcha doin’ here Dicky?”

Marinette asked innocently.

“Oh you know, seeing the attractions, eating the food, looking for a sleep deprived Tim.”

“Tim?”

She asked, “confused”.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Bruce cut off his internet and I assumed he would come to you.”

Dick asked scanning we face for anything. But she had been trained by Tim, Jason, and Damian to hide all traces of anything from both her dad and brother. She learned the puppy eyes from Dick though, and they were very effective.

“I haven’t seen him. Maybe he was just smart and went somewhere else.”

“Hmm, I guess that could be true. Well, let’s go meet your friends.”

“Wait what, no-“

It was too late, he was already moving towards them and she knew this was her punishment for lying to her brother.

“Hey Marinette’s friends!”

Marinette rushed towards them and looked around anxiously as a few of her friend’s mouths dropped and some just glanced at him not knowing who he was.

“Oh my gosh, y-you’re-“

Alya turned to look at Marinette with wide eyes.

“You didn’t tell me you knew the Wayne’s!”

“W-well…I- th-they commissioned me! I didn’t expect them to come all this way though. See his fitting wasn’t for another few hours.”

Marinette covered. No one knew about who her real family was except her host family who let her take their name so she could go to school in peace.

“Yea, guess I just got excited. Me and my family are just huge fans of your work.”

Marinette subtly rolled her eyes but brought a blush to her cheeks so she didn’t seem suspicious.

“Oh-well, thank you. I-um…thanks.”

Her friends snickered and she shot them a non-threatening glare. How was she supposed to warn Tim without Dick noticing? He was obviously going to come to the bakery now.

_________

It was late at night when she saw a shadow move on the building she was on. She had just finished her patrol route and her team would be meeting her for reports soon.

“Dad, Robin.”

She greeted without looking back at them.

“Tt.”

“Ladybug.”

As she opened her mouth she heard the sound of her teammates coming to the roof.

“Hey LB, how are-holy….i-it’s Batman!”

Chat whispered in awe. Immediately after his statement Ryuko, Honey Bee, Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Viperion landed on the roof. Only Chloe Kagami, and Luka were able to hide their shock and awe, one with indifference, another with stoicism, and the last being his normal serine self.

Ladybug sighed and rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. It’s a family reunion she guessed, all she needed now was Red Hood and the girls. Then again the girls were the only tolerable ones, besides Alfred. It was going to be a long week at least.

“Guys, this is my dad, Batman and brother Robin.”

“DAD AND BROTHER?!”

Everyone, excluding Luka and Ryuko, basically shouted.

“Yes, and they were just leaving.”

She almost growled as she glared at her family.

“No we aren’t. We are here to-“

“As the older sibling, and as this is my terf, I get the last say.”

Damian glared back at her and opened his mouth but closed it when Batman placed a hand on his shoulder. His frown deepened and he refused to look at her as she smirked in victory.

“We’ll talk later then.”

“I guess we will.”

“Wait!”

Rena shouted getting out of her styler and pranced towards him like an overly eager fox.

“Could I get a picture with you, or maybe even an interview? I won’t show anybody, but it would be so amazing!”

Her eyes were basically glowing as she asked. Marinette glared at him and nodded. If he did something stupid like this he deserved the punishment of her over eager friend and inner fan girl. He sighed and stoically stood beside her.

“Wait, everyone needs to be in it!”

She said pulling everyone and arranging them into place. She tried to touch Robin, but quickly thought better of it as he grabbed the hilt of his sword. Ladybug had to hold back her snort. It took about ten minutes, but they finally got the picture and her father and little brother finally left.

Reports went by quickly after that, but seemed tedious after the event that had just transpired. Quickly she swung home and face planted onto her bed. She could feel eyes on her and looked up to see her dad staring fondly at her. She rolled her eyes before face planting back into her pillow with her middle finger raised in his direction. She was too tired to put up with anything right now.

~~~~~~~~~

Never thought this would happen, but I have a tag list now, which is really cool. If anyone wants to be part of it please comment and tell me. ThNk you for all the support! @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00

#BDBWM2021 #Maribat #marinette dupain cheng #dc x mlb #mlb x batman #platonic timari #platonic daminette #platonic jasonette #bio!dad bruce wayne #sibling au #day 2 #miraculous team #platonic dickinette

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #peter parker imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader

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mooniefics · 3 years

Note

AFTER CONTEMPLATING FOR SEVERAL MINUTES:

reiner braun 🤪 + “please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

this is literally the cutest moonie, i'm proud of you for hitting 250!! ilysm 💖✨💕

oh my gosh i’m so sorry this took me so long,, thank u so much for the request n the congratulations mar !! very happy that my first work for this event can be for my love, our one n only reiner ♡(｡- ω -)

in all your years of knowing reiner, you couldn’t say that you’d ever once heard him sounding so frantic.

“please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

those were the exact words he’d used over the phone, imploring for you to come to the official marley high ten-year reunion and pose as his girlfriend. despite how you assured him that you were certain no one would judge him for being single, he seemed adamant that it would be the exact opposite. and after a few apologies for your laughter at his predicament and a brief negotiation over his payment of getting you your favorite drink from the cafe near your workplace for the next few weeks, it was a done deal.

though you admittedly felt a twinge of anxiety upon entering the venue of chattering adults, dressed in the best semi-formal outfit you had in your closet, you could see that he was the more obviously nervous one between the two of you.

“just relax, rei.” you murmured, slipping your hand in his and giggling at the way his arm tensed, “these are your high school friends! i’m sure they’ll be surprised enough that you managed to find a nice girl like me all by yourself—“ he huffed disapprovingly, earning another small laugh, “—and only ask about your work or something.”

you barely finished your brief attempt at a pep talk when a loud voice came from somewhere by the food table. “is that you, braun?!”

reiner’s jaw shifted, a sign you’d come to learn meant him holding back a wince, turning to see a man with slicked back hair and a broad grin on his face approaching. based on his heavy-lidded gaze, paired with the red solo cup tipping dangerously horizontal in his grasp, you assumed he was quite tipsy already.

“considering how late you are, i wasn’t sure you’d even show,” he chuckled, still having to peer up at reiner despite still being taller than you, “but the more i thought about it, the more i remembered you never were the punctual type anyways.”

“great to see you too, porco..” reiner replied half-heartedly, palm already getting clammy in your grasp.

you glanced momentarily between them, deciding to come to your friend’s rescue by clearing your throat, drawing the teasing attention away from him. “actually, he was late because of me.” you flashed a smile, leaning into reiner’s side. “just wanted to look my best since i knew i was gonna be meeting his old friends.”

“holy shit..” porco muttered after a moment of silence, hazel eyes blowing wide as he stared at you like you’d disappear if he blinked even once, only breaking his gaze to turn over his shoulder and call out, “piecky, c’mere! i think reiner’s actually got a fuckin’ girlfriend!!”

you barely stifled a laugh at reiner’s low sigh of discomfort, pointedly ignoring how the people around glanced at porco’s shout. “did you seriously used to hang around with that guy?”

“no..” he grumbled back, “he hung around the people i hung around with and always gave me shit for no reason.”

“wow, rei, feeling a little feisty tonight, are we?”

he scoffed as you reached up to poke at his cheek, able to see the pink flush that had settled over his sharp features despite the dim lighting, dodging your inquiry while he looked ahead. “he’s coming back.”

putting on the smile you’d practiced so many times right back on, you caught sight of a cheerful dark-haired woman sidling over to your small group. “reiner?! you seriously got even taller? who’s this?”

you both exchanged names, offering a hand for her to shake which she eagerly took, turning to reiner for affirmation of your identity, to which he said, “yeah, she's my.. girlfriend...”

“how long have the two of you been together?”

“a couple months—”

“—almost a year.”

you quickly laughed off the sudden nerves of giving conflicting answers, turning back to reiner’s friends and recovering with, “we’re not super big on keeping track of dates. you know how time flies when you love someone.” you turned up to reiner, lips perking into a doting smile, “right?”

his cheeks flushed an even darker red, a sheepish smile brightening his expression. “right.”

“looks like you’re the only single one, pock.” pieck teased, laughing when the man rolled his eyes and huffed.

“you’re still with zeke?” reiner asked, prompting her to extend her left hand, waggling her fingers to show off the large diamond ring on her finger.

“yep, engaged for two years now!”

“apparently still too good to come to anything she invites him to.” porco grumbled in response.

“i already told you he’s on a business trip,” she frowned, taking his cup from his hand and taking a generous sip from it, “i’m sure he would’ve come if he hadn’t had somewhere else to be.”

“whatever you say..” he sighed, letting her finish his drink despite his apparent annoyance.

thankfully, your small slip up had been ignored, allowing both you and reiner to relax when the two finally turned their attention back to you. the night progressed much less turbulently than you’d previously anticipated, reiner allowing you to handle any questions directed at your relationship, not saying anything when you frequently slipped in little white lies to make everything seem more convincing. it didn’t stray terribly far from the truth, you were entirely honest about the way you’d met and the things that had made you “fall in love with him”.

you took a strange amount of joy in posing as his significant other, just as he gave equally genuine reactions when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder or ate something from his plate of food, flustered and smiling all throughout. for a few brief moments, you almost forgot that he was meant to be pretending too. he’d seemed more than happy to see that you were getting along well with all his old friends.

you learned more about reiner in the hour that you’d been milling around the room with him than you probably ever had in the confines of the job environment that you’d met him in—intrigued to hear that he’d been the captain of the football team, feuded with the neighboring high-school’s while being head over heels for the captain of their cheer team, held the title of champion arm-wrestler for all four years he attended marley—little details that you made you would’ve never known had you never agreed to come. the unintentionally intimidating, humble, easy-to-fluster human resources manager that you’d befriended apparently used to be a total jock, always getting himself into trouble.

and, based on how many times you’d been congratulated on managing to stick by his side for longer than a few months, you could only assume that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of discovering the entirety of reiner’s character.

eventually, your small group of four that’d you started out the night with had reconvened, tipsy from constantly sipping on spiked punch, an excited exclamation from pieck made all of you turn. “look! the photo booth finally opened up!!”

she was already rushing away for the corner of the venue before anyone could say a word, everyone following suit with a laugh as she stuffed a five dollar bill into the pay slot.

“uhh, pieck, i think this thing was only meant for two people.. max.” porco said after drawing open the curtain, earning a frown from her.

“but i want us all to take a picture together!” she slid into the booth despite the observation, turning to you, “c’mon, i’m sure we could all squeeze in if you sat on reiner’s lap.”

you felt your face flush, knowing there was no way to work around her request without raising some kind of suspicion and ruining the act you’d both somehow maintained for the entire night. “sounds like a plan..!”

you could feel how tense reiner was behind you as you got settled on his thighs, hesitating to rest his hands on either side of you while pieck and porco struggled to work the screen before them. you were starting to regret not asking if this was okay with him before agreeing, but you were sure he would’ve found some way out of the situation if he was truly uncomfortable. he only seemed to be preoccupied with the thought of making you uncomfortable, something which made a flicker of affection warm your chest.

“alright! we’ve got four pictures,” pieck announced, “starting... now! and make the first a normal one!”

the first three pictures were the standard photo booth antics—one with all of you smiling normally, one with all of you making the most ridiculous face you could think of in five seconds, and one of all of you arguing over what the third photo should’ve been.

“do something cute for the last one to make up for the messed up one!” pieck demanded through her laughter, pointing urgently at the countdown on the screen, “hurry up an’ kiss or something!!”

you turned back to look at reiner, wide golden eyes gazing down at you, obviously unprepared for the steadily escalating circumstance that was only being intensified by the chanting of “kiss, kiss, kiss!” coming from the woman who’d paid for the photos in the first place. and although you knew you had no obligation to do what she asked just because she had been so kind to you despite only meeting you tonight, or because the timer was winding down towards zero all too quickly, you still found yourself reaching out a hand to settle just under his jaw, heart racing impossibly fast when you realized he was already leaning down to meet you halfway.

his lips were still sweet with whatever juice had been mixed with alcohol, skin warm and blushing from your proximity, the hand that had been resting in your lap wandering to lace your fingers with his. the exchange didn't last nearly long enough, the click of the camera drawing you back to the cramped reality, pieck's cheers through giggles and porco's disgusted scoff for you two to get a room.

"i better be invited to your wedding!" pieck joked, reaching across you to draw open the curtains in a silent sign for you to pry yourself away from reiner.

"likewise." you replied with a smile, almost giddy with excitement as you clambered out of the photo booth.

though reiner's expression just barely passed as casual, his cheeks were burning red, even the tips of his ears flushed as the four of you waiting for the machine to dispense your photos. the function was winding down fast, and as soon as your drawn-out goodbyes were finally finished, you and reiner left, hand-in-hand, much to talk over but neither of you willing to speak until you'd reached the privacy of his car.

you turned to him, smiling in the dim glow on the lights of his dash, laughing softly at his sheepish expression, "i know you said we'd only pretend for a day but.. you think i could request a little extension?"

#moonie's shooting star event 1 #reiner braun #snk reiner #snk #aot #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction

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freakie-deakie · 3 years

Text

Lucas // How To: Kill an Idea

i have been really struggling with feeling numb lately and i super projected that onto this character. i really do apologize if it doesn’t make for the most interesting read. i may or may not end up rewriting this when i’m feeling better.

Warnings: emotional numbness and detachment

Masterlist

THIS IS PART 2!!! Read part one here: How To: Hurt My Feelings

Lucas x Reader (angst // 7.3k words); ft. stepbrother!Johnny

The way the lights reflected off the water brought only distant memories of the Han flowing through the city of Seoul and mirroring the life around it. The bustle of the city, the calm of the river banks. The things that you neighbored so long ago.

You could become so lost in the remnants of the past - that you would forget to lose yourself in the readiness of the moment.

You owed the Garonne. After tirelessly looking over you for months on end, you owed her your presence at the very least. How dare you look at her in all of her beauty and only think of another.

She smiled at you nonetheless. The Garonne sat with you one last night and told you how much she would miss you - how much all of Bordeaux would miss you. She told you that the stone buildings, the ones in the alleyway that you cut through every night as you return to your dorm, didn't know what they were going to do without you. She told you that the little birds that had nested outside of your window had practiced a sadder song to sing after you left. She swore that the lights in the city shone brighter than they ever had before when you landed and that they would fade upon your departure.

She made you promise that you would come back to see all of them: the buildings, the birds, and the lights. On your own accord, you promised you would come back to see her.

The Garonne waved you off that night, sending you to bed and wishing you a restful slumber and a safe flight in the morning.

Tired and stiff, you limp out of the terminal with your laptop clutched to your chest and a yawn escaping your lips. You mindlessly followed the crowd of other travelers to baggage claim and patiently waited for your suitcase to be sorted onto the conveyor belt.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle," a familiar voice reached your ears, "I believe a poor boy has been waiting far too long to see you here."

You spun on your heel, a bright smile suddenly overtaking your features. "Lucas," you call quietly as you envelop him in a tight hug. You had barely moved for sixteen hours straight, but once in his arms, every desire for motion ceased. It seemed that he agreed, as he latched onto you and refused to let go.

"I missed you," he admitted before placing a kiss on the top of your head and moving to grab your bag off the belt.

"I missed you more," you answered softly.

He took your hand and kissed it before leading you through the airport and down to the parking garage where your brother was waiting, leaned up against his car, and dusting the cigarette ashes off of his sleeve.

"Hey there, Miss France," he says as he moves to envelop you in a hug of his own. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine," you answer simply. "Long, but fine."

"Well, you have an hour-long car trip to give us the highlights of France, if you're not too tired. We could stop by a late-night diner too if you're hungry."

You nodded along as you climbed into the car, enjoying the banter after your long trip. But as you rode in the passenger seat home (funny, you thought, that you still called it home), you took in things about the city that you never really appreciated.

The locals that ignored the do-not-cross signs, the billboards that were so shrouded in smog that you could barely read them, the stray cats that freely wandered the city like it was their own personal playground. All the things that you used to neighbor.

And when you got to the bridge that you'd longed to see since you left, the Han welcomed you home with as much love for you as it had six months ago. You made it a point to tell him about the Garonne sometime. You think he would enjoy hearing about her.

"The pastries," you say simply. "It was France; of course the pastries were the best."

Johnny dropped you back at your apartment and your boyfriend opted to stay the night, helping you settle back into the space that you could once again call your own.

Another tenant had contracted your apartment for the time you were away - there were a few more cuts and bruises than you remember leaving, but it was nothing you couldn't patch up. The bed wasn't where you had it, the shower knobs had been replaced, and an empty curtain rod rest stretched along your window seal.

"The stuff you left with us, it's still back at the frat," he chuckles awkwardly.

"That's okay." You offer him a small smile and plop down on one of the only four pieces of stand-alone furniture left in the space, the old black sofa in the same spot it's always been. "At least they didn't take my couch."

"Y/N, darling, I don't know if I would lay on that if I were you."

His words took a moment to register, but when they did your eyes shot open and you were out of your seat comically fast. "Oh God, ew..."

He laughed again and pressed a small kiss to your temple. "Let's take a shower and then we'll figure things out, okay? And you know, you don't have to sleep here tonight. There are no sheets on the bed or anything, so you can-"

You cut him off with a quick kiss and lead him to the bathroom, ready for a warm shower to take away all of your travel pains.

"Not really," you answered honestly, rolling your head to the side to look at your boyfriend. You'd been looking at his ceiling for a while, head resting on his thigh while he played with your hair. It felt nice, you thought, to get a chance to live in your memories - specifically the memories you had left with him here in his room, the ones that always waited for you while you were away. "All of my days in France were spent doing something or another. By myself, with the people that I met. So no, it never really got mundane. I didn't think that kind of life existed for anyone over the age of nine." You let out a small but heavy breath. "I guess I had to experience it for myself to understand."

Lucas doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he focuses on gently detangling a knot that his fingers had caught on. Your hair was longer now than it was.

"I'm happy for you," he reassures you. He doesn't quite know what he's reassuring, but he reassures you nonetheless.

"Lucas?" you ask softly.

"Hmm?" he responds, his gruff voice sounding tired.

"What would you have done if I didn't come back?" His finger stop working in your mess of locks and all of his attention is focused on dissecting what you just asked him.

"I don't know what answer you want me to give you," he says smally, glancing down at you before retraining his gaze on the ceiling, its texture nearly lost in the dark.

"There isn't a certain answer I want. I'm just curious."

"I don't understand the question," he almost interrupts, suddenly a bit tenser than he was only moments ago.

"I don't mean anything by it, Lucas. It's not a loaded question." Your soft voice is enough to lul his hand back to its comforting motions. "Would you have gone after me or would you have let me go?"

"I would have gone after you without a second thought. Definitely, I would have."

"I thought about staying you know."

There's a pause, a small silence of thought on both ends.

"Why didn't you," he asks with genuine curiosity.

"It wasn't home. You weren't there."

A wolf whistle follows you into the kitchen the next morning and you feel the need to suppress your groan.

"If I knew you were staying the night, I would have held a cup against the door."

"Oh, gross, Jaehyun," you sneer, turning to jab your elbow into the older boy's side.

"What? Not everyone gets to tour France." You can't help but dramatically roll your eyes and threaten him with a punch.

"Do you want a cup of coffee? I was about to put on a pot."

"Sure," he smiles gratefully. "And you can tell me about Bordeaux while we wait."

"Oh, it was beautiful," you think back as you prepare the grounds. "As the sun was setting, the sky would turn golden. If there were any clouds that evening, they would turn all different shades of pink. The lights over the water - words wouldn't do it justice."

Jaehyun chuckles before yawning out, "Well, that's a first."

"Jung Jaehyun, if you are trying to say that I talk too much-"

"That's not what I'm saying," he defends. "I mean you always have a way with words. It's your thing, ya' know. Words."

You hum, turning back to your task. "I guess I hadn't thought about it that way - at least not for a while."

The door to the kitchen swings open and another boy ungracefully stumbles into the kitchen. Haechan is clad in a plain T-shirt and dark shorts (if you could call them that). His hair is no longer silver; it's now a dusty brown, curling up into the picture of a sandstorm blowing about his head. He looked healthier, or maybe just more mature since you last saw him. He'd filled out a bit, and grown into those long limbs of his.

"Man, what's will all the commotion in here? It's Saturday and- Y/N?" The boy immediately perks up upon seeing you. "Oh my gosh, Y/N! You're back!" He hugs you and sits down at the island beside his older friend, suddenly as energetic as a child on Christmas morning. "Great, because I made a list of pranks we're gonna pull together. Jaehyun, since you're here, I guess you can help us too. Okay, first of all, we're gonna shove a bag of chocolate powder mix down the shower drain. I'd like to make sure that one gets Mark because he blamed me for breaking Johnny's lamp."

There were things you would have to readjust to in Korea. Things that you didn't think would catch you off guard, yet still managed to turn you around every now and again. The wet bath was one of them; you were going to miss your tub. You also suddenly found bowing a bit more strange than you originally had, as well as keeping personal space when you greeted someone altogether. Most prominently, the language barrier that you weren't so sure you'd ever really overcome in your first life in Korea.

Words were suddenly weird to you again. Ideas that could manifest themselves in one language but not another. At times, there were no proper parallels, nor were there ways in which to express everything going on inside your head.

Though you tried your hardest, what little French you learned simply wouldn't translate properly to English, or the English wouldn't translate to Korean, or the Korean to French, or the French to Korean, or the Korean to the English. The words just never came out the way you wanted them to, and in a way, it was like a piece of you fell away from the rest, lost somewhere between all of your different lives.

Lucas noticed how much quieter you seemed since you'd returned.

You made it a point to generally avoid contact with everyone while you were away. You occasionally checked in with them to let them know that you were alive, but other than that had kept your space. You became more dedicated to learning about yourself and how to care for your well-being. You began making decisions of your own, from what you would eat every night and how early you would wake up every morning to what debacles were worth your time and energy. You decided that most of them weren't. You decided that pondering your life was taking years off of it, and that you didn't like to eat snails. You decided that you weren't so bad after all, and for that matter, no one else was either. You decided to live.

"Hey, can I see something on your Instagram real quick?" you asked softly, setting your bowl of fancy ramen on the coffee table in front of you. "I think one of my friends just had a baby and I wanted to see if she's posted any pictures yet."

Without giving it much thought, Lucas hands you his phone and turns back to his meal. "What happened to your Instagram?" he questioned.

"Deleted it," you quip, pulling up your friend's account. He hears you coo before you shove the device back into his hands, urging him to look at the baby. He thought the child, redfaced and wet, looked like an alien, though he'd never tell you that.

"Why'd you delete it?" he pursues.

You simply shrug and cover more of your legs with the blanket that rested on the both of you. "Didn't need it." He gives you an unsatisfied groan, but you can't think of a better answer. It was simple - while you took plenty of photos to document your life, you no longer found it necessary to post them.

"Okay," he tries, "what about your Kakao Story?"

"Deleted."

"So you no longer use Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Skype, Instagram, or Kakao Story? What if someone needs to contact you?"

"I still have Kakao and Discord."

"Okay, what about my posts? Or your other friends'?"

"If they have something to tell me, they will," you sip your hot tea and lean into his side.

"It’s like she doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't want to talk to anyone," groans Lucas as he sprawls out on Mark's bed. "She doesn't talk nearly as much as she used to."

Mark's hand didn't stop relaying notes to his journal as he talked with Lucas, translating as many of his lyrical ideas onto paper as he could keep up with.

"She's not the same person she used to be, Lucas."

Lucas had trouble making sense of it, why Mark sounded so sure about that. It almost hurt his pride that one of his roommates was telling him something about you, his girlfriend.

"Who is?" Lucas rubs his eyes. "We've all grown up since then."

Mark's hand halts. "Since then?"

"Since-" he sighs. "Ya' know, since... Since we..."

"Don't hurt yourself," Mark chuckles. "Maybe," he offers, "this chapter of your life is written in a different style. Did you even notice? That your life hasn't been going the same since she got back?"

"Of course it's not the same," the elder defends. "It's infinitely better."

"Spare me. Look, I'm just saying, the less she talks, the more dialog you're putting in your own book. And I think it's better this way. I mean, I can't tell you how to write your life, but I can honestly say I think you're doing better now than you were before. You started using your words instead of acting on impulse. That's not easy, man. Words are hard."

Words: your staple, your foundation, your life. They were your nothing anymore.

And Lucas didn't know how to understand.

He tried not to take it personally, but soon you fell into almost complete silence both with him and his friends. When you joined them for a Smash Bros competition, you didn't exclaim your victories nor mourn your defeats. When you dressed, you didn't ask for his opinions on the color of your lipstick nor the type of heel you should wear. When you laid in bed with him and watched his fan turn above your heads, you refused to humor his desire to hear your voice. And he took the fault upon himself.

He felt guilty asking anything of you anymore because you never opened your mouth to ask for favors in return.

"Y/N, will you come cuddle with me?" he calls with as much endearment as he can shove into his tone.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

You hadn't watched the news in months, and he knew that. You, ever the stickler for meaningful conversation, had devoted large portions of your time to staying up to date before. As of late, however, you preferred "to watch the world crash and burn around you from a first-person point-of-view rather than a third-person point-of-view."

He hoped that sitting you down to watch the news for a while would spark a fire in your opinionated soul. So imagine his reaction when you crawled into his arms and fell asleep, paying absolutely no mind to the colors or words on the screen.

His next plan was to plant your favorite novel in the hands of your favorite philosopher.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

He shoved the book into Doyoung's hands with a stern "fix her." Needless to say, Doyoung had the book read within a couple of days and Lucas invited you over as soon as his friend flipped through the pages for the final time.

"A piece of modern art," he suggests. "A sorrow lost to the sands of time and a meaning forgotten by society."

Lucas watches in amazement as you sit and nod along to everything that Doyoung says. You didn't interject your ideas even once. You just listened.

He was running out of ideas. So his last plot was his last hope that there may be a bit of yourself left inside of you. He would take you on a date - the best date you've ever been on - and thrust so much happiness and gratefulness onto you that you wouldn't be able to contain it so silently. He knew it was a dirty trick, but how else was he to make sure that you were okay if you would no longer tell him anything about yourself.

This was for your own good, he reminded himself.

Really, he should have asked you out first, before he came barging into your apartment (tidier than he'd ever seen it before and reeking of cleaner) with a bundle of flowers and demanding your attention for the evening.

Surprise.

He was about to push open the door to your bedroom when he heard a soft sniffle from inside. His eyes widened and his shoulders fell. His heart broke when he heard a small sob fall from your lips.

He peeked inside. It was dark, mind the laptop that sat on your desk and illuminating your shaking form. You laid your head on one arm and used your other hand to rake through your stringy hair. Your glasses had been tossed to the shadowy void and your cheeks were wet and sticky.

The header of your philosophy paper stared you down as you unraveled before it. The rest of the blank page was absolutely daunting. Your acceptance of the world around you had drained away your ability to have a coherent cognitive thought about it, forget about writing one.

To some extent, you missed the days when you were confident in your ability to build empires out of words. Now, you couldn't even build a ten-page paper, especially not by 11:59 pm that night.

To a greater extreme, you couldn't understand why you would want to return to your opinionated ways or your charismatic skills that abused fact until it bent to your will. What purpose did fact or, more importantly, idea have anymore, other than to aid your ability to charm others to abide by your purpose?

It felt wrong to write a definitive philosophical thesis, especially when you couldn't bring yourself to definitively believe in anything particular.

"Y/N," you jumped at the sound of your own name and quickly wiped your cheeks with the back of your sleeves, sitting up straighter and making yourself more presentable before you turned around to face him. Lucas saw it all. He watched you put your mask back on right before his eyes, and he realized that you were hurting in ways that he couldn't see until now.

"Lucas," you cursed your shaky voice. "What's up? Why are you here?"

He takes a few quiet steps until he's standing before you and kneels to look into your eyes. There are things that he wants to say, 'you're scaring me' being the most prominent, but he knows he should choose his words more carefully.

"I want to know what's going on. I want to help." He slips his hands into your own and rests them on your knees.

"I just don't think you can," you answer simply.

"Can you tell me what's the matter?"

You shake your head and the tears come rushing back to your eyes. "I don't know what's the matter." It's honest. You don't know why your head can't wrap around your assignments, or your conversations, or your own thoughts as of late.

All that time spent with yourself taught you how to understand yourself and your own needs. You feel that you have exchanged your understanding of the world around you for a simpler version of life. Did that make you selfish? You didn't know.

All Lucas could do was watch you as you fell back into your frustrations. It didn't take long before your brows were knitted back together, your nose was running, and your eyes had glazed over as you retreated back inside of yourself.

"Y/N," he softly called. Your eyes only met his for a second before they were cast somewhere else and your attention ran away from you once again.

"I think," you started, unsure of every word that slipped past your lips. "I think you should go."

You didn't know how to explain to him that you were afraid of what he might think of you at that moment, or that you didn't want to hurt his feelings any more than you guessed you already had.

"I don't want to go. I'm tired of leaving you alone." He stood, gently pulling you to stand with him, and led you to the edge of your bed with a delicate touch. "You don't have to sleep. You don't have to talk. Just lay here with me for a little while and let me be close to you."

"You know," Lucas started as he tossed the noodles in the pan. He'd tucked you into the couch earlier that evening and told you to forget the paper you'd been stressing over. You happily complied. "I don't know how to say this any better." You listened keenly as you pulled a throw pillow into your lap and wrapped yourself around it. "I know that this is probably the last thing you want to talk about, but I did something very wrong to you. I'm still sorry, and I hope you know that. But..." He cast you a quick glance over his shoulder before reaching for the seasoning in your pantry. "I don't think I ever gave you the chance to yell at me. Or like, to be mad at me - ya' know?"

You thought for a moment, front teeth chewing on your thumbnail before you shook your head softly and answered, "I don't want to yell at you. I don't want to be mad at you."

You heard a repressed sound of discouragement before looking to see him dishing your dinner plates. "I wish you would. I wish you would yell at me and tell me what I did was wrong. I wish you would be angry with me for a little while. I wish you would just tell me something about how you feel about it."

He handed you your plate and watched as you ran back inside of your own head. He watched your eyes glaze over as you replayed his words, and yet you made sense of almost none of them. You didn't understand what he was asking of you.

You toyed with your food as you tried to process his request. You didn't even notice when he took his seat beside you, nor did you notice the burning gaze he watched you with.

"Y/N," he called, shaking you out of your trance. "I want you to yell at me." You looked at him like a deer caught in headlights - big black eyes staring down a deadly light. "How did you feel when it happened? Shout something horrific at me about what was going through your head at the time."

You took a small bite and swallowed, training your eyes on the coffee table before you. "I don't remember."

You looked so small, so helpless, and so distant. You were there, right next to him, and yet you were so far away. He was having trouble finding you.

"Yell. Break something. For fuck's sake, please."

The more pressure he applied, the further you seemed to slip away. Before he knew it, you were gone.

"That's not her anymore." He found himself on Mark's bed once again, tucked into the younger boy's covers and pouring out his heart. "She's not all there. She just looks so empty now."

"Dude, I don't know why you come to me for this sort of thing. It's not like I'm just great with girls," the younger quips from his desk chair. "And Johnny would know more about her than I would-"

"No. He absolutely cannot know that I broke his sister."

Mark hummed in thought for a moment before he laid his pen down in his textbook and turned his full body to his friend. "Lucas, be honest with me about something." Lucas nodded. "Did you see anyone else while she was in France?"

Lucas shook his head as he took in his friend's words carefully. He had no right to be mad at the accusation, so he kept his temper in check until a particularly vile thought trotted across his mind. He sat up immediately. "Oh God, do you think that she did? Do you think she considered it a break and she slept with someone else?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying- hey- Lucas, stop." Lucas was already to his feet and out the door before he could finish. "So not my fault," he grumbled to himself.

Finally, it all made sense to him. You couldn't be mad at him if you were also guilty. You couldn't yell at him for committing a sin you'd also committed. He was going to redress the scale. He was going to make you the word again. He was going to be the action.

The solid thuds against your wooden door made you jump up from your floor. Adrenaline spread through your fingertips and you took a step back towards your bedroom.

"We need to talk."

Lucas sounded angry. You pushed and pulled with your memory, but found no trace of experiencing this feeling before: fear of him. You moved against your gut to let him in. You barely opened the door before he pushed his way inside, rattling off accusation after accusation.

"Did you think we were on a break? Because we weren't on a break."

You just listened.

"Did you just forget about me while you were there? Did you just ignore the fact that I was waiting for you? I was stuck here, waiting for you every day while you were in France."

You didn't speak.

"So you just got to do whatever you wanted while I had to sulk here? You just couldn't control yourself, huh? Do you know how hard it was to keep control of myself while you were gone?"

'It was hard?' you thought.

"How about we take another break then? How about this time, I get to sleep with whoever I want? Well? Aren't you even going to open your mouth to defend yourself?"

You didn't.

"Am I wrong?" He prompted. "I didn't think so. Now we're on a break. Now you can fuck around with whoever you want."

Shocked couldn't begin to describe the state he left you in. You stood there, clambering for answers as to what could have sent him on a warpath to your apartment in the first place. His seemingly unprompted fit of jealous rage couldn't really have been sparked without a cause, you figured.

Maybe he'd seen pictures of you with your male friends in France. Maybe a rumor had been spread about you. Maybe he was just tired of you and feeding himself a rotten narrative as an excuse to break up with you.

You didn't want to know. You opted to rather accept his decision, and all of your own emotions that came flooding back with it.

"Hey man, have you talked to Y/N lately? She took one of my classes last year, and I wanted to see if I could get her notes before semester tests." Haechan asks his elder who lay sprawled on the couch.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.'

"What?" Haechan asked, looking up from his phone. "What do you mean you haven't talked to her?"

Lucas lazily yawned and reached for his soda can beside him. "It's not like she's my girlfriend or something. I'm not her keeper."

"Shit, Lucas, you didn't," Mark groaned, rubbing his temple.

"No, you were right. She was sleeping with other guys while she was in France. She didn't even try to deny it."

"Hang on, I never said that. You conjured that one up all on your own, buddy."

Haechan frowned as his frat members debated. He was focused on a much bigger issue at large.

"When did you break up with her?" he asks cautiously.

"Hey, we're just on a break. Don't go getting any ideas-"

"Jesus fuck, can your ego get any bigger?" Lucas crossed his arms and refocused his attention on the television, jaw clenched tightly. "You're so annoying," Haechan mumbled under his breath, already moving towards the door and shooting your brother a message telling him to meet in front of your apartment.

"Damn, you got called annoying by Haechan. How does that feel?"

"Can it, Lee."

You could feel it all, the swarm of emotions swirling and twirling around inside your chest, and yet you couldn't begin to name any of them. All you knew was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

You laid in your bed and watched your ceiling fondly. You liked how it didn't move. You didn't struggle to keep up with it. And it was dependable; it would always be there.

You didn't move when the knock at your front door finally registered in your ears; you were tired of playing doorman in your own residence.

You were just tired actually.

"Y/N," Johnny called, lightly pushing open the door to your bedroom. A strong sense of deja vu winded you. You knew this scene, you'd lived it before. "It's me and Haechan. I'm sorry we didn't call first." You didn't know how they managed to get inside, nor did you care. You just wanted to sleep.

Johnny took a seat next to you on the side of your bed. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes in an attempt to capture your attention. That's when the smell hit you. The heavy stench of cigarettes washed over all of your senses causing you to retract from his touch. He looked shaken at first, scared that he might have hurt you.

"You didn’t smoke before," you recalled. It was almost a feat in and of itself to remember the bitter past, but the small victory was stifled by the thick, wet air of the bitter present.

His eyes softened before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack he'd bought just a few days before. "I started a few months ago while you were away. I knew you wouldn't be happy about it."

"I don't care," you answered promptly before slowly pulling yourself to sit up against your headboard.

Haechan watched from the doorway. He wondered if he'd ever seen someone in this state before, or if he ever would again. He looked at you and almost failed to see the human being in front of him. He watched you move like a frightened animal, stiff and weary. He watched your untrained gaze flicker between your brother and your brother's outstretched hand.

This couldn't have just been the work of Lucas, he concluded. There were more deeply rooted implications here. There was an unresolved issue before your idiot boyfriend played to his own role.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't know," you answered honestly.

Johnny looked to Haechan for support, but the younger could offer only his presence in this situation.

"That's okay," your brother soothed. "Haechan," he turned to your mutual friend, "can you call Ten and Yuta and see if they've, uh, noticed anything weird lately about..." He gestured to you. Haechan excused himself to place the calls. "Food? Food always helps, right?" he tried with a dry chuckle. You paid absolutely no mind to him.

"I can't take this," Ten muttered to himself, excusing himself from your bedroom. Five boys had soon found themselves huddled in your doorway, watching your every move intently as you resisted every attempt your brother made to move you.

You felt like a lab rat, being looked at from all angles as Johnny poked and prodded to see what would make you tick. It felt humiliating.

"Let's just go for a drive," he tried again, gently pulling your arms away from your chest and trying to guide you out of bed.

"No," you answered again, pulling yourself away from him and settling further back into your bed.

"Maybe we should just let her be for tonight," Jaehyun suggested, moving to stand beside your brother whose head was fallen in defeat.

"I can't just leave her like this, Jae. I still don't understand what's going on."

"Just give her some space," Jaehyun tried again. "This clearly isn't very effective."

Johnny sighed but ended up in compliance as everyone except for Jungwoo moved to your living room. They quietly deliberated as Jungwoo read allowed one of your favorite novels from the end of your bed, hoping against all hope that it would in some way bring you back from the void in which your mind seemed to currently reside.

"Honestly, we had planned to just come and cheer her up," Haechan had said. "We didn't know we'd find her like this. But I can't say it really surprised me, she's been off for months now."

"I thought something seemed weird. She hasn't said much to me in a while."

"Me either."

"Yeah, same."

Everyone generally agreed with Ten's statement.

"Do you guys think something happened in France?" Jaehyun suggests.

"Or maybe things haven't been going so well between her and Lucas for a while?" Yuta offers.

"Everything just feels like it's spinning," you said, cutting off Jungwoo's reading of Mary Shelley's finest work. He was just happy to have heard you say anything at all. "Everything is going so fast around me. I just wanna take a nap, sleep for a while." As you relayed your simple disposition, you found yourself moving to lay on your side, plenty warm but unwilling to relinquish your comforter. "I don't feel like I belong here, so I'm going to sleep instead."

Jungwoo set the book to the side and laid himself down at the end of your bed. "I don't feel like I belong here sometimes either," he relates.

"But you do," you say, looking over his features and seeing every sharp and jagged curve for the first time.

"You do too," he promises.

Hours of hushed worries bled into the night, and you awoke alone in your apartment in the morning. You had no initial intention of getting out of bed. It was the hardcover copy of Frankenstein standing upright on your bedside table that stirred your aching joints into motion.

Then you remembered.

How could you ever even forget?

The Han River smiled when you arrived, taking a seat on his bank. He asked you why you'd been such an unfamiliar face as of late, to which you had no reply. He thanked you for coming to visit him nonetheless and told you about how much Seoul had missed you while you were away. He told you about the alley cats and how they missed the treats you would occasionally leave for them on your way to classes. He told you about how much the sky cried about you spending spring away. He told you that the city lights drowned out the stars while you were gone, but let them peak back into the city when you returned.

You had no beating heart to pour out into his water, so instead, you gave him your soul. The Han understood and sat with you until you bore no more faults on which to complain. He told you he missed you. You told him that you missed him too. You told him about the Garonne and how much you thought he would like her. Then he sent you off into the afternoon bustle of the city with a watchful eye.

You wondered the streets for a while. Not a penny in your pocket, and still you found so many little joys in all the cracks and crevices of Seoul. You pet the stray cats; they'd always been particularly fond of you. You walked around an antique shop making wild guesses about the past lives of every item in sight. You climbed a tree in the park without a damn to spare the onlookers. By sunset, your feet had taken you back to your campus and directly to the front door of your apartment.

"How about some tea?" you ask yourself as you push the door open, not half expecting to be ambushed by a group of concerned young men demanding to know where you were.

"Would you all like some tea too?"

It was still a struggle to hear your voice most of the time, but visible relief settled over those who'd seen you cowering from your brother in your bedroom only days prior. They all continued to check in on you frequently, as they still had difficulties coaxing you away from your apartment.

"Lucas," Johnny had finally caught him lurking in the kitchen around midnight. He was beginning to grow irritable with how troublesome he had become to locate.

Lucas froze, cup ramen clasped in one hand with chopsticks in the other. Busted like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Look, I'm sorry about your sister," he started without really knowing where he was going. "I know that I kinda jumped the gun-"

"I don't want to fight with you again," the elder said. He had kept his calm since the situation had arisen. The last time you and your boyfriend had a falling out, all hell broke loose in their dorms. He had landed a good solid punch on the more-than-deserving idiot and held the belief that he probably deserved a few more. However, he'd rather not have everyone in a frenzy once more, turning against one another. "I just need you to tell me what was going on before you left."

Lucas's shoulders slump and he sets his late-night meal on the countertop. "I was just so frustrated. She always let me into her head before - but when she came back, she just stopped talking to me. She shut me out," he relayed. "I tried everything I could think of. I tried to make her really happy, I tried to make her really mad. She wouldn't talk to me."

"She won't talk to me either," Johnny said, resting a reassuring hand on Lucas's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he responds, taking some measure of the blame upon himself. He felt that maybe if he'd had more patience with you, he could have helped you to get better. Now you were detaching yourself from not only him but your other friends and family as well. "Do you think she would want to see me?"

Your brother shrugged but a small smirk played on his lips. "I dunno. Maybe you should go find out tomorrow."

Needless to say, Lucas felt displaced and burdened by heavy guilt as he stood in your doorway, looking down on your fragile body. The last time he came knocking on your door in the most awful hours of the morning, he begged and cried on his knees for you not to leave him. He felt himself resist the urge to fall to the ground and repeat his mantra of pleas.

You didn't ask him why he was there so early in the morning, nor did you ask him if he wanted to come in. Your stare made his skin feel cold. He cleared his throat to dispel some of the awkward tension that he felt clawing at his airways.

"Can I come in?" Without a word, you moved to the side. "Thank you. Were you asleep?"

"No," you say simply, trailing behind him as he steps into your kitchen.

He lets out a low chuckle as he glances around the room. It looked so surprisingly unhomely and clean. Not a single dish in the sink, nor a potted plant out of place. "I keep messing up pretty badly, don't I?"

He hated the empty way you looked at him. It was as if you didn't know him. It was as if you had just let a complete stranger into your apartment.

"I don't understand, and I'm really trying to. I know that you know that things have changed since you got back. I don't know what that means yet, but I do know that I still love you. And that I'm stupid. I know that too."

You hummed along, a thoughtful expression overtaking your blank features.

"And I know that I’m sorry. I let a stupid idea get into my head and I let it hurt my own feelings. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Please don't leave me."

You didn't offer an answer, instead opening your arms and inviting him back into your embrace. He placed a small kiss on your lips, something he felt like he hadn't done in ages, and wrapped himself around you in an effort to keep you by his side forever.

"Are you happy here in Seoul?" your boyfriend asked, picking at the grass in front of his crossed legs. He looked at you as you looked down at the water. "I mean, I know you don't want to go back to (country), and I have a feeling that you don't exactly want to go live with my family in China. But like, would you rather be in Bordeaux? Or would you rather stay here?"

"I don't know." He hummed and waited for you to elaborate, but you made no real effort to.

"I know that we're still young and we don't have to make any decisions about where we want to live yet," he cooed, looking up to watch the sun set behind the large city towers, "but would you stay here in Seoul with me for a little while?"

You nodded, reaching over to take his hand in your own before pulling him to lay in the grass with you.

"You know, you're not the same person that you were before you left. I've realized that," he said with a sad smile as he looked over at you and placed a small kiss on your chin, pulling a small giggle from your lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I can't wait to get to know you again."

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amusedyan · 3 years

Text

Labyrinthian

This fucking thing has been the source of my fucking writer’s block for months and I FINALLY GOT THIS THING FINISHED!

Featuring cryptic Trickster Eldritch Labyrinth god Dazai

The labyrinth was unending, unyielding. The walls themselves so tall that you had to crane your neck to see the sky- it had gone dark, and the stars? Forget it. You would be so lucky to see stars in this hell.

When the king had called for a sacrifice, you had been one of the many offered. Dressed in white for the offering, and forcefully purified, you had been let loose in the labyrinth, fodder for the creature inside. Because of your sacrifice, the headman had said, you thought venomously, the kingdom would be safe, the monster sated for one more year.

And what of the next year?

“Short sighted bastards,” you spat on the ground and marched forward. Marched to your death, maybe. Probably even. But you had to keep moving. If you stopped, if you gave in, then fear and hopelessness would overcome you.

You didn’t want to die. But if you had a choice, then you’d rather die on your feet than in a crouch, crying in despair.

Already it was at your heels, following you. As you alternately hurried, walked, marched or sprinted through the stone paths you would find horrible mementos of the past sacrifices- bones, dried and flaking blood, severed limbs or shredded clothes, similar to what you wore. You prayed over each other them- not to the gods who had trapped that Thing here, but to the souls of your predecessors. May they be at rest and free from pain, fear, and the machinations of the living and immortal.

The Thing in the labyrinth was a god. Was, but now he was an immortal thing with the human hunger, cast down by the pantheon and sealed here.

Your stomach growled uncomfortably.

There wasn’t much to be done about that, though- you had been given limited rations, and you wanted to make them last, unappetizing as they were.

So on you went- with no direction and no way to mark where you’d been.

But time dragged on, and eventually your anger and your fear fled, and you had nothing but hunger, thirst, and exhaustion waiting for you and slowing you down.

It wasn’t fair, you thought. The despair had caught up with you, and you could feel your eyes burning. “I’ll save my tears,” you muttered, rounding a corner. By now you were leaning on a wall. If the monster found you, you would die for sure.

But instead of more endless stone walls, you saw trees, and water. For an absurd moment, you thought that you had found the way out. But as you stepped into the clearing, you saw more walls around it, and you understood.

This was a garden.

But it was a garden, and that meant water and hopefully food, so that was something.

You drank from the water until you threw up, and then drank some more. The water was cold and clear, and you had never tasted something so sweet in your life. You dipped your feet in to calm the ache next and closed your eyes. You couldn’t relax, but you could rest here.

It felt safe, like the air itself had taken a moment to let itself go.

“How could something so beautiful exist in such an ugly place?” You wondered out loud.

When your feet grew numb, you began to look for food. And, luckily, you didn’t have to look long.

“Fruit trees,” you breathed in wonder. All of them were fruit trees.

You’d never been much of a tree climber as a kid, but hunger bred desperation, and like a monkey you were scrabbling up and up to the first stable branch.

You ate 3 apples and dropped some more to the ground before climbing down, more carefully than you had climbed up. Your belly full and your thirst quenched, you finally succumbed and fell asleep beneath the tree. And no matter your intentions, it was a deep sleep, dreamless and dark.

-x-

You woke, completely relaxed under a late morning sky.

The sky?

And more than that- there was a smell

The smell of apples cooking.

When you raised your head you saw a young man wearing the white garb of the sacrificed. He was bandaged, but he still smiled when he caught your eye.

“You’re up.” He waved, and you found yourself wandering over. “Sorry, I just saw the garden and I was so hungry. Did I scare you?”

“No.” And it was the truth. “I didn’t see you with the other sacrifices.”

“There are several gates.” He shrugged. “One in each of the cardinal directions. I came in the West.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Your expression hardened. “If all the food comes in the same gate then the meal is all at once and the sacrifices would have to be more than once a year.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Here, I roasted a few for you, too.” He handed you a spit on which two apples were speared.

“Thank you,” you took them gratefully, and introduced yourself.

His name was Dazai, he told you. He was from a port kingdom. Over breakfast he described the sea and the ships, and you listened eagerly. Before the sacrifice, you’d never been anywhere but your home village and the market.

“Have you seen anyone besides me?” You asked, despite yourself. It felt like a cloud had passed over you both, and you shivered involuntarily.

Dazai looked down at the fire and sighed. “No one alive,” he said very quietly.

“I…was afraid of that.” You admitted, and you both went quiet. You ate your apples while they were still warm.

After awhile, Dazai cleared his throat and you looked t him again.

“Would you like to run with me?” He invited.

The idea…wasn’t a horrible one, in all honesty. In the very least, you thought darkly, you could trip him up and use him as a distraction if you were found by the monster. But more than that, you wanted company.

The two of you filled your respective waterskins and packed away as many apples as you could carry. Dazai took some of the charcoal from the dead fire. “We can mark our way with it.” He explained. It was a risk, but a calculated one; if you knew which direction you had come from then the monster surely could as well.

You and Dazai began to walk and you felt much more relaxed with someone at your side. It was as like the labyrinth itself was cleansed. It wasn’t as scary with someone else, you decided.

For lack of anything better to do, you compared notes on the creature in the labyrinth.

“My home says that the gods cast him down for his cruelty,” you recounted. “They sealed him here- once you’re in, you can’t escape.” You swallowed nervously. “But that part can’t be true. There has to be another way out.”

“He wasn’t a god,” Dazai scoffed as you backtracked, marking on the wall that the passage was a dead end. “He came Before the pantheon.”

You frowned. “There was a before?”

“Honestly,” he sounded s disappointed. “What are they teaching people nowadays. Yes, there was a before. The Old Ones were first, and when the New rose, there was war. The Labyrinth God weighed his options and helped overthrow his people.”

“Why would he betray the Old Ones?” You wondered. “Wouldn’t he have loyalty for his people?”

“It wasn’t about loyalty.” Like he was explaining things to a child, Dazai broke it down. “You have to look at the bigger picture- there was a war and it had to end. The Labyrinth God looked at the outcomes and made a sacrifice for the lesser damage.”

“And it made him cruel?”

“No. It made him a liability. They cast him out, stripped him of his divinity and created the labyrinth. And here we are.” He squinted up at the sky. “Well, at least we don’t have to deal with straight sunlight,” he grumbled.

But something made you suspicious. “How do you know so much about it? I thought you came from a port town?”

“I do. But my family were scholars.” He shrugged.

“Oh. And they just…surrendered you?”

“Well, it was only me. And it wasn’t like they liked me much to begin with.” He chuckled, and you felt a momentary stab of both guilt and pity. You had people on the outside to get back to, and Dazai just…didn’t want to die here.

Well, maybe you could bring him back with you.

But you didn’t voice that idea, you weren’t stupid. A. you didn’t want to offend him, and B. You didn’t really trust him, not just yet.

So on and on you walked. More than once you hit dead ends and had to go back, or somehow circled back around. Several times you swore you heard the growling of the god in question. Those times bot you and Dazai froze and listened, pressed against the wall, trying to judge just how far away it was. The final time, the ground shook as it passed by the next passage over, and you could feel a scream welling up in your throat.

But it passed, and you both waited and waited for ages before going on, slowly and silently, all talk gone.

That night there was another garden, this one more lovely than the night before, with animals and birds. The lake was a little river, and again you both refreshed and rested yourselves. There were pear trees this time, and pomegranates. All the fruit was delicious raw, but there was something satisfying about cooking them and eating them warm.

“Gosh the stars are pretty,” you observed, leaning back. Across the fire, Dazai looked up and softened at the sight of them.

“Yeah. They are.”

You both slept, huddled together for warmth as the fire died.

-x-

And on the third day, the environment of the labyrinth changed. The stones themselves were different, and the walls…

“It’s almost welcoming,” you breathed in wonder.

“It is, isn’t it?” Dazai reached out and touched the stone experimentally.

Remarlably, you found yourself led to some stairs. Stairs, of all things. Up and up you both walked. Why hadn’t you seen any sign of this in the labyrinth?

At the top of the staircase, you saw a palace.

You could smell food now, and your stomach growled for food that wasn’t just roasted fruit.

“Hungry?” Dazai elbowed you playfully.

“A little,” you nudged him back.

There was something strange about all this, you realized, but you were curious. “Let’s investigate.” Dazai declared, leading the way.

The palace was lit and clean, incense scented the air. It was lived in, clearly.

“Is this the monster’s home?” It was so…civilized. What sort of prison was this? One filled with art and delicate vases and décor.

You both followed the smell of food through gardens and rooms and halls, finally finding tables already laid.

“It’s like a celebration.”

Why was your heart pounding?

There was a terrible growl and you froze.

It was here.

“Relax,” Dazai laughed, picking up a goblet. “There’s nothing to fear.”

“Are you insane?” You snapped, grabbing his sleeve. “It’s here- it’ll eat us Dazai, we have to move!” This was a horrible idea, what had possessed you to come inside like this?

The palace shook under Its footsteps, you were running out of time.

He’d gone insane, clearly, but could you really just abandon him to his fate here?

Yes.

Your survival…

You ran in the other direction, and Dazai’s wild laughter was as loud as the growling, snarling, howling beast that you were trying to flee.

Deeper into It’s lair you ran, your lungs on fire. You didn’t think about Dazai, because it didn’t matter. One foot in front of the other, you ignored everything. There had to be a way out of the palace, a way out.

You burst into a garden in full bloom, but no sooner had you registered that it was grass beneath your feet then you lost your footing, and you fell. And it was hard. Dazed, you lay there, shaking. It was behind you- you could smell the crackle of ozone, hear the footsteps.

But then what you heard was clapping.

“You did so well,” Dazai singsonged, patting you on the shoulder. “I had so much fun. But the game is over, darling, and I think that I want to claim my prize.”

You looked up at him and tried to process just what the hell he was talking about over the racing of your heart.

“Your…prize?”

His kiss was not gentle. It was hungry, eager and impatient.

“You ran and I gave chase. It’s the first time a sacrifice has become more than a meal.”

“What…what am I then?”

“Mine. And there will never be another.”

#yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere dazai #yandere dazai osamu

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

PREVIOUSLY • MASTERLIST

pairing: (prince) Sawamura Daichi x (princess) fem! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k words

synopsis: A childhood lover, a perfect picture, a thoughtful risk, a dashing spark, a resurfaced fling, a beautiful mystery, and an unlikely charmer. With so many flowers in the garden, which do you pick?

a/n: hello loves! i hope you all are doing well :)) reminder that the taglist is still open, just send an ask or leave a comment to be added <3 id love to hear your thoughts and please reblog!! tags have been weird lately so id really appreciate the reblogs :) !

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ: ☾

Nervous

“Good morning Your Grace! Rise and shine!” Anita came bursting into your room. She opened up your bedroom curtains, revealing the burning sunshine. You grabbed one of your pillows and buried your head under it.

“Oh gosh what time is it…” you groaned.

“Time to start getting ready. I’ll have your breakfast brought in momentarily.” Anita left your room just as quickly as she entered it. You removed the pillow from your head and sat up.

“Oh good you’re up.” Your mother, the queen, entered your room, followed by Anita and your breakfast tray.

“Thank you.”

“Eat up sweetheart. You’ll need your energy for today!” said your mother.

“Why must the ball be so late today?” You asked, “and why have you woken me up so early…”

“It’s the Midnight Ball Y/N! It’s tradition whenever the kingdom of Karasuno comes to visit,” she explained. You nodded.

The Prince of Karasuno would be next on your agenda. You had heard nothing but nice things about him. He was known to be responsible, kind, level headed, everything a future king would need to be.

“Your gown for tonight is getting finished up at the tailor’s. I’ll be picking it up in about an hour or so,” explained Anita.

“I’ll join you,” you said as you took a sip from your tea. Your mother shook her head.

“You have much to prepare for here, darling. Anita can take care of it herself.”

“I’ll only be gone for an hour or two. I promise I’ll be back in time,” you insisted.

“Very well… I’ll make sure your ride is prepared.” Your mother patted the top of your head before leaving your room. You looked at Anita, sighing.

“I suppose this is how things will be for a while. A ball every week, a new dress to try on, and someone new to see.”

“You’ll certainly never be bored, Your Highness. I’ll set out your garments for this morning’s trip and meet you outside.” Anita flashed you a bright smile before heading over to your closet, picking out a simple, light pink dress. She laid it on the chair of your vanity before leaving.

You finished your breakfast and got yourself ready then went to meet Anita outside.

“Ready to go, Your Majesty?” she asked. You smiled.

“Anita you know you can call me Y/N, and yes.”

The ride into town was smooth. It was an exceptionally beautiful day, birds chirping, the sun shining. You waved to whoever you saw as people eagerly noticed your arrival.

You arrived at the tailors right on time. It was a dainty shop, filled with endless piles of fabric and designs to fuel anyone's imagination.

“Good morning Your Royal Highness! Here to pick up your gown for tonight’s ball?” asked Mari, the shop owner.

“The Princess is also in need of one final fitting before we can take the gown back to the castle with us,” explained Anita. Mari nodded.

“Yes yes of course! Right this way my darling!”

She led you and Anita to where the mannequin stood, wearing the dress.

“Wow…”

It was an extravagant gown, black as the midnight sky. The sunlight peeking in from the windows bounced off of the small crystals, making it sparkle. It lastly had a matching cape, since the ball would take place at night.

“Mari you never disappoint, it is truly gorgeous,” you said.

“Oh thank you Princess. Here, let's get you laced up.”

The dress fit you perfectly as expected. It’s sweetheart neckline and floral detail looked stunning on you. Mari packaged up your dress as you waited with Anita.

“We actually have one last stop before we can head back,” she explained.

“Where?” you asked. Anita smiled.

“It seems that your prince has a gift for you.”

You and Anita walked along the streets of town until reaching the flower shop. You breathed in the scents of gardenias and lilies.

“Pick up for Y/N L/N,” explained Anita to the front desk attendant. They scurried off to the back cooler and brought out the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen.

“Oh wow…”

It was a mix of orange and black roses, with a small card peaking out.

‘Until tonight Princess… -D.S.’

“D.S.?” you questioned. Anita chuckled.

“It’s from Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.”

“He certainly knows how to make a girl smile,” you whispered.

“He’s perfect…” gushed Anita. You chuckled.

“We’ll see about that…”

As the day drew on, you found yourself back at home. You were finally getting ready for the ball, that started in just a few hours. You showered and wrapped yourself up in your silk robe. You walked into your room, where Anita was laying out your dress.

“Anita what do you know about Sawamura Daichi?” you asked. She chuckled nervously.

“Well I don’t know too much...but I know that he is a great leader with a kind heart. He puts others before himself and is devoted to helping others. Anyone would be lucky to have a heart like his.”

“It seems like you know more than you think,” you teased. Anita shook her head.

“Oh my apologies. Here, let's get you laced up.”

Anita cinched you up into your gown. She did your makeup and clipped on your cape.

“Stunning as always,” she smiled.

“Thank you. Shall we go?”

The garden was marvelously decorated with lights and lanterns. There was a grand fountain in the middle of it all, the floor a checkered pattern . The full moon shined above you, making the moonlight bounce off of your gown. You greeted people as they approached you, keeping one eye out for the Prince.

“Excuse me, You Grace?”

You turned around to see a man smiling at you with grey hair.

“Yes?”

“Princess Y/N L/N, I am pleased to introduce you to the marvelous, chivalrous, most handsome-”

“That’s enough Sugawara…”

“Oh right...Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.” He moved out of the way, allowing the prince to step forward.

“My apologies, he tends to get carried away,” smiled Daichi. You chuckled.

“I actually liked your introduction,” you teased.

“I’m glad. Would you care to dance?” Sawamura pointed to the dance floor. You nodded.

“I would love to.”

You took his hand and he guided you to the floor, He bowed before you, then placed his hand onto your waist and held up your other hand.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you said. Daichi smiled.

“I’m glad they found you well. I wasn’t sure which flowers were your favorite so I decided to play it safe with roses.”

“I do love roses.”

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

“Not particularly. I love the assortment bouquets, that way I get a little of everything,” you explained.

“I see.”

Daichi spun you around the floor, keeping you close to you. His eyes almost as dark as the midnight sky, you could’ve fallen into them. As your hand rested on his bicep, you could tell just how strong he was. His strong build but gentle smile warmed your heart.

You watched as what looked to be a sweat droplet glided down the side of his forehead. You chuckled.

“Are you nervous?” you asked. Sawamura tilted his head.

“Nervous? What makes you say that?”

“It looks like you’re sweating.”

Daichi patted his forehead with the back of his hand. He smiled.

“That’s not sweat princess, that’s rain.”

The two of you looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds rolling over you. You closed your eyes, starting to feel the soft water trickle down upon you.

“Everyone inside!” shouted the king. People began to rush over to the doors, hiding under the walkway.

“Y/N, darling, you’re gonna get sick!” insisted your mother. As you soon became drenched by the rain, you looked to Daichi, who held onto your hand.

“I have a dance to finish,” you smiled. Daichi grinned, placing his hand back onto your waist and once again, guided you along the dance floor.

It was just the two of you, dazzling under the stormy moonlight. As lightning struck and thunder boomed, you kept your eyes on Sawamura. How he made you laugh, calling you reckless for proposing this idea. Even as the floor became even more slippery, you and Daichi didn’t stop. Soon, the orchestra came back, playing for you. Drums sounding along with the sound of thunder, causing goosebumps on your skin.

The two of you caught your breath, panting as water droplets dripped down your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping you balanced. Without realizing it, yours and Sawamura’s foreheads were pressed against each other. Daichi locked eyes with you, placing his hand under your chin.

“I think it’s safe to say that you took my breath away.”

The two of you went inside the palace a short time later. Anita brought you both towels to dry yourselves off.

You now sat with the prince on the grand staircase. The two of you talked about all kinds of things. He told you about Karasuno, you told him about what there was to do around your kingdom. He listened happily to every word you had to say.

“You’ll have to show me around soon, I didn’t get to explore much today,” he said. You nodded.

“I would love to do that.”

“Excuse me, Your Highness, we must be going.”

You looked over to the man who entered with the prince earlier. You sighed, almost wishing he didn't have to leave.

“Very well, just one moment please.”

Daichi stood up from the steps. He helped you up as well.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you Y/N. I wish we didn’t have to part so soon,” he smiled.

“As do I. I hope you have safe travels, and the next time you’re here I will happily show you around.” Daichi smiled.

“I would love that.”

He carefully took your hand, kissing the top of it. He took his soaked suit jack and draped it over his shoulder before joining Sugawara. You sighed.

“He really is perfect.”

•

[ taglist OPEN : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @asahisimpnation @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @koutarousangel @shoutamajiki @definitelynottrin @sullen-angel24 @thatprettybunny ]

#willow.🌸#decisions.🌸#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #daichi x you #daichi x y/n #haikyuu!!#daichi x reader #daichi scenario #hq daichi #daichi fluff #sawamura daichi #Sawamura daichi x reader #Sawamura daichi x you #haikyuu fic

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Text

eggnog and mistletoe P.P

wc: 1.5k (fluff)

summary: peter helps you learn to love the holidays

best friends to lovers!au / peter parker x reader

Growing up, the holidays had never peaked your interests. What, with living in an area where heat was a constant and snow was a rare, you had no reasons to find any of the winter holidays interesting or in the least bit, exciting.

This was your first year in New York, and your first holiday outside of your hometown. It was one of the last weeks of November, Peter inviting you and his friends over to his apartment for a movie night.

The heater was on, blankets passed around as everyone chose spots, you and Peter choosing one end of the couch, Ned sitting on the floor and MJ on the arm chair. Betty was sitting on the other end of the couch, Flash sitting beside Ned as they fought for the popcorn.

A scene in the movie came on, but Flash had to use the restroom, asking you to pause the movie. You did just that, and Betty took the opportunity to talk.

"I just love winter and Christmas," she gushed. "It's so much fun and it makes me so nostalgic."

"Ha, for you," MJ replied. "I will admit, the ice skating is fun as fuck."

Peter laughed, nodding.

"What about the food, though," Ned tapped his temple with his pointer finger.

"What food?" Flash came out of the bathroom, straightening his shirt out.

"We're talking about the holidays," Peter told him.

"Oh sick," he sat down next to Ned again, pulling his blanket over his legs. "You guys ever just play in the snow until your nose turns red? And then your mom has to drag you in before you get a cold?"

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Betty laughed, tapping his shoulder. "Or when you drink eggnog and open presents-"

"I think decorating is way more fun than eggnog," MJ commented.

"What about you?" Peter asked you quietly, poking your side.

"What about me?" you laughed nervously at him.

"What do you like about the holidays, I mean," he said.

"Well uhm," you scratched the back of your neck. "I don't really like the holidays."

"You don't like the holidays?" Ned repeated, louder. "How do you not like the holidays?"

"Seriously though, what're you going to do on Christmas?" Betty asked.

"Probably stay home and watch movies," you said nonchalantly, not seeing the big deal with your response.

"Jesus Christ," Ned laughed. "You're really missing out, kid."

"Yeah, what are you, the Grinch?" Flash joked, laughing with Betty.

"Can't you go home to your family?" MJ suggested.

"We don't really- you know... they aren't big on holiday celebrations."

"No wonder she's a Grinch," Flash teased.

"Okay, okay," Peter shut it down. "Let's just finish the movie before it gets too late."

For the next three weeks, Peter and his friend group had prepared for the holidays, going ice skating and taking trips to the mall for Christmas shopping, as well as going in to see the big Christmas tree. All the while, you had denied each of their offers, not wanting to be called a Grinch for not having fun during their hang outs. Peter, however, found himself having less fun now that you had stopped hanging out with them.

Christmas was in a week, the gang going their separate ways as the holidays approached. They were traveling to their families in time for Christmas. Peter was due to leave for Aunt May's in a day, and you had settled on your original plan: watching movies in your apartment.

Peter had a different idea.

You were over at his apartment for what would be the last time until he returned from his Aunts, which was to be after New Year's day.

"So Y/N, I was thinking," he started. You looked away from your computer, looking to the boy sitting on the other end of the bed.

"Yeah, what about?"

"I was thinking you could come home with me for the holidays."

You froze, eyes darting up towards his face, shock probably covering your expression.

"What?"

"Well, I-I just," he stuttered, itching the back of his neck. "You know, you said you didn't really have fun during the holidays and I was just hoping you'd let me take you- y'know, maybe introduce you to it for the first time."

"Oh."

"You don't have to go! I just didn't want my best friend to be alone on Christmas day and then not see me until the next year-"

"I think that's, uhm, a really nice idea."

"Yeah, you think so?" he asked timidly, crawling closer to you.

You nodded, and he broke out into a smile. "Awesome. We're going tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Well I leave for May's tomorrow, and I want you to come with me."

You nodded, "well I have to go pack."

Peter nodded, kissing your forehead. "I'll pick you up at 9 A.M.?"

You smiled, nodding. You kissed his cheek on the way out, and once your back was turned, Peter did a little celebratory fist pump.

"Peter I don't know how to skate on ice," you said nervously between gasps. He was standing next to you on the ice while you held onto the barricades. May was on the sidelines, phone in her hand as she took pictures of the moment.

"C'mon, Y/N. Just watch me and then I can help you, okay?"

You nodded, quickly changing positions to look at him better. After five minutes, you had the groove down, taking Peter's hand. He pulled you into the rink more, watching your movements and giving you tips. You nearly fell four times, but after fifteen minutes, you had gotten the hang of it, and had actually found yourself having a great time. Peter could not keep his eyes off of you.

"Where to next?" Peter asked, sitting on a bench beside you and May as he took his skates off.

"There's hot chocolate on the way out," May said. "We can get some for the trip to the Rockefeller."

Peter ooh'ed, physically excited about the idea.

"What's the Rockefeller?" you asked, putting your converse back on.

May smiled at you, and Peter took your hand, helping you step down, as the three of you stood up to go to the exit. "It's where the big Christmas tree is," he told you.

"Ohh."

"Yeah," Peter blushed. "It's super pretty at night. Colder, but pretty."

"Interesting."

"Yeah?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you confirmed before thanking May for getting you a hot chocolate. Peter watched as you took your first sip, and he smiled when you let out a satisfied hum. "That's really good."

"I told you," he nudged your hip with his own, smiling. His beanie covered most of his curls, but he was still your silly best friend.

After viewing the tree for a good twenty minutes and taking at least forty pictures, May said it was time to head back home. It was getting colder by the minute, and you and Peter found it was probably a good idea.

Arriving back, Peter told you to go shower first, something about how it would warm you up. When you walked back into his room with a normal shirt and some shorts on, he stood up.

"Here," he handed you some clothes.

"What's this?"

"Oh, uhm- Christmas pants and a sweater. My- my sweater," he blushed, and you slowly took it from him, inspecting them before putting them on. Peter grinned before heading towards the bathroom, "I'm going to shower. Make yourself comfortable."

While Peter was in the shower, you were sitting on the couch, looking through the assortment of Christmas movies May had stocked up. She was making her ritual Christmas Eve dinner, and she came out to sit next to you while it was baking in the oven.

"So Peter tells me you weren't really a fan of the holidays," she says.

"Yeah," you smiled nervously. "I just never found it interesting or anything."

"Well, I hope you at least find this year's Christmas interesting," she smiled, and you did too.

"I really do. Peter makes everything better- I mean, he makes things more fun."

May grinned, a twinkle in her eye. Before she could reply, Peter was coming out of the bathroom, his outfit just like yours, only he had fuzzy socks on.

"What're we talking about?" he sat next to you.

"Just that you have to kiss her now."

Peter choked on air, glancing back and forth between you and May. "Wh-at? W-why?"

May smirked, pointing towards the ceiling and going back to the kitchen. There, hanging down, was mistletoe, and Peter blushed, his ears reddening all over again.

"What- what's that mean?" you asked, brows furrowed.

"Well, it's tradition that if two people stand under the mistletoe together, they have to- uhm.. they have to kiss."

"Oh," you said, relaxing a little as you understood.

"We- we don't have to, I'm sure May was just mes-" but he didn't get to finish his sentence, as your lips had managed to quiet him. It didn't last very long -- they never do-- but it lasted long enough for Peter to kiss you back.

"I really like you," he confessed after the two of you had split apart.

"I really like you," you said back, and he smiled, linking one of your hands with his, just as May had brought out dinner.

#peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #boyfriend!peter parker #best friends to lovers!au #bestfriend!peter parker x reader

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ubemango · 4 years

Note

not a request but more of a suggestion but i’d love to read about unko jaykay meeting soonbok for the first time 🥺

This hurt me SOOOO bad oh my gosh x_x tw mentions of blood

He gets the call at exactly two AM. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Yoongi this frazzled before.

“She’s—she’s being cleaned up right now. When you get here just text me. I’ll come pick you up from the lobby. And can you get me something from Starbucks while you’re at it?”

Jeongguk visits a drive-thru and buys a cake pop with coffee, as a treat. It’s too late to find a flower shop so he figures a tiny confection will express the sentiments of congratulations on becoming a dad nicely enough.

Yoongi looks like he’s seen all the ancient horrors of the Earth when Jeongguk meets him. He extends no formal greeting other than: “For me?”

He’s pointing at the iced coffee and brown paper bag. “Vanilla was the only flavour they had left,” Jeongguk says, handing them over. Yoongi quite literally rips open the bag, grabs the cake pop by the stick, and devours it in 0.5 seconds. “Woah. You good?”

Yoongi gives him a hard stare, chugging on his coffee next. “You ever had a wife who’s gone through fourteen hours of labour?”

Jeongguk shivers from the thought. “I don’t wanna know. Let’s go. What floor?”

“Second.”

Yoongi spares him the conversation, guiding Jeongguk through a short elevator ride, gurney-filled hallways, the occasional duo of doctor and nurse walking past. Jeongguk knows they’ve reached the maternity ward when he hears someone wailing in the distance.

“You get used to it,” Yoongi comments when he sees Jeongguk’s half-horrified face. “This shit is scary. Seeing so many pregnant people in the same space. It’s like you’re all in on some volunteer experiment and your compensation for participation is a human being.”

“Is—is she there?” Jeongguk asks. The hallway threshold they cross this time is much quieter. Suddenly he’s reminded that you were in the exact same position that wailing woman is in right now. He’s glad you only told him to come when you’d given birth, otherwise he’d probably be occupying a gurney from fainting at the sights and sounds of literal childbirth. “Your. You know. Human being.”

“Yeah. She had to go get her vitals checked but she’s back now. Should’ve seen them try to wrestle her out of her mom’s arms. Anyway. You ready?”

Jeongguk takes a moment to realize they’ve stopped at a door.

He’s an uncle now, he thinks. You carried a clump of cells through growth, brought her earthside because your body decided it was time. And he’s never been particularly concerned about babies but he feels overwhelmed, thinking about how hard you must’ve worked. He should have begged for a second cake pop.

“Yeah,” he answers finally.

Yoongi opens the door first. The lights are dimmed down, and Jeongguk has to blink the glaring white of the hospital walls away to make sure he isn’t tripping on anything. A nurse cleaning the bloodied weight scale looks up and greets him. Another nurse mops at the foot of the bed. The sight of you half-asleep is what greets his vision next, looking all shades of exhausted. Yoongi looks like sunshine compared to you.

“Hey. You just pushed a whole human out your cooch,” he greets.

“Damn right I did,” you proclaim. “I’d give you a hug but I quite literally cannot lift myself up at the moment.”

You’re cocooned securely in your blankets, like an overgrown baby. Yoongi walks over to kiss your forehead. “Don’t work so hard, babe.”

“I better not, else my stitches will rip right open. Whoosh. More blood.”

“Laughing gas,” Yoongi explains your loose tongue to Jeongguk.

“I smell cake. And coffee,” you complain next.

Yoongi swiftly turns around and shoots his garbage inside a bin near the bed. “No you don’t.”

“I want cake.”

“You can’t have cake. You want me to get you more ice to chew on?”

“Sure. Jeongguk. Look at my baby. Doesn’t she look like an alien?”

Something to the side of your bed catches his eye. A little squirming of pink blankets in a separate cart, and he freezes in his spot. “I—can I look?”

“Duh,” you say through a mouthful of ice Yoongi’s just shoved into your mouth.

Jeongguk tiptoes over carefully. Baby girl Min, 1:57 AM, the label on the glass says. The first word that pops up in his head when he sees her? Tiny.

Her swollen eyes closed, she breathes life into her small chest. You’re right. She kind of does look like an alien. But a cute one, with Yoongi’s nose, your eyebrows. She’s probably the size of his own forearm. He feels like if he breathes too hard she’ll roll right out onto the floor.

So careful is he in his observations that he doesn’t notice Yoongi making his way over to him to ask:

“You wanna carry her?”

Jeongguk locks up. He hasn’t held a baby since his little cousin was born and that was like two decades ago. His dad had made the mistake of asking him if he wanted a snack the second he had little Daesung in his noodle arms and he’d very nearly launched him off to go running for dino cookies. “Can I?”

“Course.” Yoongi slots a gentle hand beneath her neck, using the other hand to lift her at the bum. “Gonna sit down, or?”

“I’ll sit.” He’s 100% sure he’ll drop her if he doesn’t. He finds the rocking chair set in the corner of the room, positions himself comfortably for Yoongi to guide his arms around her.

She immediately fidgets in his hold. Oh god. She probably doesn’t like his aura, Jeongguk thinks. Or maybe he’s too cold and she wants her mom’s warmth. Like a little cub stolen from its mama bear. If she started crying he probably would, too.

But: “Oh—oh my god wait you’re smiling,” Jeongguk coos.

Her mouth stretches upwards for a second, and he hears Yoongi say wah, so cute but it’s muffled noise. She makes this moment for Jeongguk alone. And he can’t help but squeeze her closer; she wriggles, pointing her little nose to his chest like she wants to hold him back. He very resolutely decides, right then and there, to pull at his heart and say, This space is for you now, and a cold feeling washes over him like he’s just entered a new world.

“You really do fall in love right away,” he whispers.

You interrupt his reverie with a snort. “You’re so corny. I’m surprised you haven’t cried yet.”

“That’s only because you’d make fun of me if I did.”

“Just don’t drop her,” you mumble.

“Yeah yeah.”

Wait. Speaking of her:

“What’s her name?” Jeongguk asks.

Yoongi strokes gently at her cheek. “Soonbok.”

Almost as if she recognizes it, she flutters her eyes open at her dad’s call. Jeongguk feels his chest burning from how sweet she looks.

“Soonbok,” he repeats, voice cracking. “Welcome home.”

(“See, I told you he’d cry,” you laugh. “Take a picture for me, Yoongi.”)

#bts scenarios #ubemango fic #f: this tiny space #d: this tiny space

96 notes · View notes

multibug · 4 years

Text

Passion Fruit Lip Gloss

AO3

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U SO MUCH @emsylcatac

tags: identity reveal, fluff, kissing, aged-up characters, slight crack

Marinette adjusts the bedazzled party hat atop her head, the bright gold a stark contrast to her jet black hair. It doesn’t exactly go with her outfit of choice, though she’s not necessarily angry at it.

It was either that or the bedazzled green tiny cowboy hat.-

(“Green?!” she had asked Alya, when she was showing Marinette ideas about what to do for the hats.

“For our school colors, silly. We probably won’t use them anyway.”

Alya did end up using them in the end.)

Marinette’s wearing a peach-colored long-sleeve silk button up with thin red and white stripes vertically lining it. It’s tucked into a pair of black shorts with a leather belt.

In a moment of pure hastiness, she had chosen her tallest thigh high black heels, with a heel that raised her three full inches over her normal height.

A small beret keeps one side of her hair pinned back so her ear is exposed. She tied a thin choker around her neck to complete the look and a small touch of makeup with glossy lips.

It’s passion fruit flavor.

The clock hanging on the wall reads 23h00, giving Marinette a good hour and a half before she can beg off feigning tiredness as her excuse so Alya doesn’t call her a party pooper. It’s not that Marinette doesn’t like to party per say, it’s that she’s not exactly the third wheel type.

She’s had more than enough of it the last few days, thank you very much.

All of their friends are paired up with someone, whether it’s platonic or not. Alya and Nino, Kim and Ondine, Luka and XY—a big shocker to all of their friends with how much Luka despised him back in the day. There’s the obvious Juleka and Rose still holding strong, Kagami and Chloé, another eye-opener when they revealed it to their friends earlier last month.

Ivan and Mylène, who endured a long-distance relationship for a while before Ivan and his family moved back to Paris in August. Nathaniel and Marc, who sadly weren’t around a lot to cause Marinette much of a heartache, but enough nonetheless.

Even Alix and Max, two entirely platonic friends, were enough to make Marinette feel like she was third wheeling.

They aren’t doing it on purpose, at least Marinette thinks they aren’t, yet the longing to have someone on this chilly New Years Eve is almost unbearable. Almost.

A mix of something fruity and strong loiters in her hand long enough to help kick the feeling.

“Girl, what are you doing all the way over here by yourself?” Alya gently bumps her hip into Marinette’s, eyeing her over the top of her straw as she takes a sip of her drink. “You’ve been off all night!”

Alya’s cowboy hat is nearly slipping off her head at this point, though it looks as though the redhead hasn’t noticed.

Marinette stifles a giggle, shoving her half-filled drink into Alya’s free hand. She watches in bemusement as part of the drink sloshes to the floor and goes about fixing the small hat on top of Alya’s head. “There! All fixed.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to avoid my question,” Alya remarks with a sharply raised eyebrow.

“Me? Trying to avoid your question? Alya, you must be drunker than you think!” Marinette quickly takes the drink back from Alya’s hand and downs the rest of it, throwing an overly enthusiastic thumbs up in its wake.

“I’m on my first drink, M,” Alya deadpans.

Pursing her lips together, Marinette shrugs her shoulder sheepishly. “Sorry?”

The song changes from a slower song to a more upbeat one, the accompanying lights Nino installed in his and Alya’s apartment changing to the tune of it.

Alya knocks back the rest of her drink and slams the cup onto a nearby counter, a devious glint in her eyes.

Oh no.

“Come dance with me, M!” Her hand encircles Marinette’s wrist, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor whether Marinette wants to or not.

Marinette nearly trips over her heels in an attempt to keep up with Alya’s longer legs, knowing it's fruitless to argue with Alya when she has her mind set to something.

Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar tall blond squeezes past them with relative ease, Marinette briefly making eye contact with them. Time feels as though it slows down, Marinette’s lips parting slightly as she peers into the bright eyes of Adrien, who she hasn’t seen since Nino threw him a spectacular 19th birthday party in September.

A birthday party that Marinette still can’t remember to this day.

All she recalls is getting extremely plastered after seeing Adrien pictured with a girl in his newest edition of Vogue Paris. He hadn’t spoken about whether the girl was his girlfriend at the time, yet seeing them together had her feeling as though she was on fire.

Months of Marinette working towards getting over him just for her to realize it’s seemingly useless.

He’s always going to have a special place in her heart, she suspects.

His eyes soften as soon as he realizes it's her, his lips curving into a beautiful smile that outperforms all of his photoshoot pictures by a landslide. His hair’s grown slightly longer since she’s last seen him, curling around the back of his ear—a bit reminiscent of their collège days.

Adrien’s still just as gorgeous as she remembers.

“You look good,” she squeaks out over the bass of the music, inwardly screaming at herself to shut up.

“Thank you—” he cuts himself off as Alya drags Marinette across the room, his hand outstretched in reaching towards her.

Gosh, how she yearns to see if it’s as soft as it looks, even in the dim multi-colored lighting.

“Honey, I think the liquor is getting to you,” Alya whisper-yells into her ear, a tiny smirk lingering on her face.

Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head, the party hat sliding with the movement. “No way, Al! I haven’t been drinking like that. Only enough for some liquid courage, you know?”

Just then, she trips over the heel of her boot and nearly forces them to the floor from using Alya as leverage. Thankfully, Alya was standing close enough to the wall to support them before that happened.

“Sure, babe. I’ll make sure either Nino or I take you home later.”

Sticking her tongue out at Alya, she sets her empty drink onto the nearest flat surface and throws her arms around Alya’s neck, losing herself to the beat of the music. Her hips move in time with the songs, some she faintly remembers, and others she’s never heard of.

Alya’s close enough to her that she begins to feel a bit sweaty as the songs pass.

At some point while Hot in Herre by Nelly is playing, Nino saddles up to them with drinks in his hands.

“Babe, I think she’s had enough,”Alya all but snaps.

Nino shoots her a look that says relax without actually saying it.

“Thanks, Nino! You’re a real pal.” Marinette loops her arm through his and leans her head against his bicep, taking a sip from the drink he gives her. “Yuck, water.”

“Yeah, you are a real pal,” Alya says with a fond grin, pressing a slightly sweaty kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, love.”

Marinette huffs. “I take it back. You’re not my pal.” She ruins this statement by tightening her grip on his arm.

“Ooh, she’s clingy tonight. Are you drunk, Nette?”

“I’m not drunk. I’m just abnormally tipsy is all! I think it might just be hitting me now. Oh dear, maybe the water is a good idea.” Frowning, she sips at the water with her nose scrunched, a small pout forming on her face.

Raising her arm up to stare at the watch on her hand, she squints her eyes and is barely able to make out the time: 23h50.

Another New Years Eve, another kissless year.

“Hey guys! Kim is looking for you two. He said something about a major spill in the kitchen?”

It’s Adrien, dressed in a light blue—is that Givenchy?!—cotton button-up with yellow and green flowers scattered on it. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the shirt itself is tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of brown chelsea boots.

It suits him well, so much so that she clenches her jaw to stop it from dropping.

Snap out of it.

Marinette blinks owlishly at Adrien, the liquor causing her head to feel fuzzy.

“I don’t want to leave Nette alone—”

Adrien laughs softly, hands shoved into his pockets as he interrupts, “Nino, I can take care of Mar while you guys go help Kim, yeah?”

“I am not a child.” Marinette detaches herself from Nino and stands proudly, chin held high. “I can take care of myself!”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Adrien replies gently, as to not spook her. “I’ll just be around to make sure you’re okay in the process, is that cool?”

He’s so nice. It warms her heart. “Yeah, sure.”

“Cool, let’s go.” He slings an arm over her shoulder languidly and smiles down at her.

Her heart races.

“Do you want to go onto the balcony to watch the fireworks? Nino and Alya said it’s off limits, but I’m sure they’ll make an exception for us, right guys?”

Alya winks over at Marinette as Adrien’s head turns away to glance at Nino, and she replies, “Yeah, go for it.”

A blush rises on her cheeks, heat stinging her face. She’s going to kill Alya.

“C’mon, Mar, we’re out this bitch.” Adrien steers them over to the balcony and easily has them through the sliding doors within seconds.

It drowns out the party lingering behind them.

Glancing down at her wrist, Marinette notes that her watch reads 23h55. Five minutes until midnight. Time feels as though it’s gone so fast yet so slow, strangely enough.

She shivers, though the sensation is mostly coming from her stockings as her shirt’s fairly thick. She’s surprised when she feels a weight on her shoulders.

Out of thin air, Adrien produces a heavy bomber jacket that warms her to the core immediately. Maybe he grabbed it on their way out without her realizing it? Whatever the case may be, she’s very grateful for the heat seeping into her body while they’re out in the frigid Parisian air.

“Thank you,” she murmurs in response, her arms crossing to grab either side of the jacket and hold it around her body.

“Of course,” he replies, shooting her the same smile from earlier.

It warms her more than the jacket does.

“You know,” he starts, hands twitching on the balcony railing, as he glances from the beautiful city view to her face. “I have so much to talk to you about. So much to say. Now isn’t the right time obviously, as you’ve been drinking—”

Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m perfectly coherent, Adrien.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he defends easily, his arm groping her elbow to ground her. “I’m just saying that I think this is a conversation where both of us should be completely sober and open to hearing the topic at hand.”

What does he mean by that? She’s not sure where she should be confused and worried or elated that he wants to talk to her about something serious. Either way, it’s puzzling her already fuzzy brain to the point where she bites down on her lower lip and lets out a huff unknowingly.

“Is it bad?” she finally asks, eyes flickering to her watch.

23h58.

“No, no! It’s not bad at all.” He squeezes her elbow reassuringly and smiles warmly at her, eyes glittering even in the dim light that shines above them. “I’m hoping it’ll be a good conversation, though I want you to remember it. That’s why I’m waiting.”

Waiting. Good. it’s good. For a good conversation. Ugh. Her brain hurts.

“Okay,” Marinette murmurs, blinking up at him slightly confused. She returns the smile once she notices his, it being too contagious for her not to. “Okay, I believe you.”

He hasn’t removed his hand from her elbow. She hasn’t shaken him off either.

Beyond them, miles and miles away, in the sea of twinkling lights and crowds of people, fireworks explode into the night sky as bright sensations. They light up the dark with their vibrant colors and intoxicating patterns, making it irresistibly hard to look away.

The second she does, her eyes are drawn to another light, this one alive.

Adrien, who is watching the fireworks with an expression of wonder. A tilt to his eyebrows and a small drop of his jaw, cheekbones dipping high with the shadow of the night.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asks, rather than wishing him a Happy New Years. Rather than stare at the beautiful swirls and patterns happening adjacent to her. She’s too focused on the beautiful boy in front of her, whether he knows she’s talking about him or not.

It has to be said.

He lets out a small chuckle and nods his head, free hand rubbing at the back of his head as he whispers, “Yeah, it sure is.”

“Bonne Année, Adrien, “ she whispers, so gently that she’s unsure as to if he’s heard it.

Wonder-filled eyes flickering over to her helps in answering her question.. He grins impossibly wide, all of his teeth showing so it’s nearly comical, yet it’s so unabashedly Adrien that she can’t help but return it for a second time tonight.

Adrien leans in, and for a second, Marinette truly thinks he’s going to kiss her. Her heart starts stuttering and the color the cold had ripped from her returns to her body so fast it feels like whiplash.

He doesn’t kiss her.

And yet, that isn’t the exact truth either, is it?

Lips brush against the apple of her cheek, so light that the touch feels both hot and cold simultaneously. It sends shivers throughout her body and the spot on her skin that his lips linger on burns hotter than the temperature of the sun.

She can’t think. Her brain is complete mush.

The tip of his cold nose nudges against her cheek afterwards briefly as he leans in to whisper into her ear, “Bonne Année to you as well, Marinette.”

Her heart continues to flutter until she falls asleep minutes later, curled up in his jacket all while leaning on him.

---

Daylight shines in through the slits of her blinds faster than Marinette would’ve liked, considering the horrible ache in her head. Except, she can’t exactly remember how she made it back to her apartment, which is a weird feat for her.

She rarely drinks enough to where she doesn’t remember what’s happening—Adrien’s birthday party being an anomaly.

How did she make it home yesterday?

Hm, maybe it was Alya or Nino? They aren’t the type to abandon one another in their times of need. even in times of absolute peril. There’s no way they didn’t have some part in getting her home, even if it meant physically seeing that she made it into her apartment building before leaving.

The thought makes her feel all fuzzy inside.

It could’ve been any of their friends at the party, if she’s honest. She doesn’t remember anything after Hot in Herre played on the dancefloor; hopefully bits and pieces come back as time goes on.

Oh well, it mustn’t be that important.

Peeling open an eye has her glancing over at her nightstand, a bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water sitting neatly on her otherwise messy cupboard. She makes a move to grab the bottle and water when movement near her balcony door has her freezing in place.

Chat Noir is standing there, back turned to her—she can even recognize him in horribly-taken photographs—as though he’s trying to sneak out. He turns to glance back at her and she soundly slips her eyes shut, feigning sleep.

As her balcony door creaks, her eyes open and she watches Chat shut the door and bounce off the balcony with his staff.

“Tikki?”

Her small, red friend flies out from her little nest. “Yes, Marinette?”

“Was Chat Noir just in my room?” Her voice is thick with sleep and slightly hoarse.

Tikki’s eyes widen and she glances around the room nervously. “No? Were you dreaming? Chat Noir was most definitely not in here!”

Marinette’s eyes squint up at her. “Don’t lie to me. I just saw him!”

“Well, then why did you ask me?” Tikki whines, deflating a bit as she floats closer to Marinette. “Yes, Chat Noir was here. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you as you are the Guardian and it’s your decision, but if you don’t, I won’t utter a word.”

“Will it jeopardize me knowing his identity? I wouldn’t want to do that to him,” Marinette worries, using her thumb and forefinger to toy with her lower lip.

Stroking her chin thoughtfully, Tikki shrugs. “It may. I can’t say yes or no for sure. It would have to be a risk you’re willing to take.”

“Ugh, no. I’m not going to do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair.” Marinette sighs, finally opening the bottle of paracetamol and downing two with large gulps of water. “Though I am curious.”

“As they say, curiosity killed the cat!” Tikki replies with a giggle.

Face-palming, Marinette groans aloud. “Oh no. He’s rubbing off on you too!”

---

“Girl, I’m surprised you haven’t called me,” Alya tells her, a few days later, when the New Years resolution goals have already lost their momentum. “I figured I’d get a phone call as soon as you got home.”

“What are you talking about, Als? Sorry, hold on.” Marinette pauses, readjusting the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her classes haven’t let back in for the semester, yet she’s trying to get a headstart on pinning a new design she’s working on so she doesn’t fall behind. “Okay, go on. I have my brain screwed in now.”

Things aren’t going according to plan, obviously.

Alya snorts. “With you and Adrien, duh! Do you seriously not remember it? I thought you weren’t plastered.”

“I wasn’t plastered! I guess I was just more tipsy than I thought I was.”

“So, you were drunk?”

“Shut up.”

Letting out another round of laughter, Alya says, “Well, I can fill you in if you’d like. It’s pretty juicy.”

“I don’t know if I want to know,” Marinette groans, rubbing an exasperated hand over her face.

“Oh come on! It’s not even bad! You did pretty well considering the circumstances!”

A pin falls to the floor at Alya’s word, forcing Marinette to tell her friend to hold on again. Three minutes later, she successfully finds the pin that somehow hid under the mannequin stand where she couldn’t see it.

Lucky? Pft. Not Marinette.

“You were saying?” Marinette asks.

Alya fills her in on all of the details rather quickly, from Adrien whisking her away while still being a gentleman about it to them having alone time on the balcony. The story lasts all of a minute, even with Alya’s expertise in story-telling, and it has Marinette’s heart fluttering.

The puzzle pieces start to connect.

“Als, I just remembered what happened on the balcony,” Marinette says, eyes slightly wide.

“Bitch, you better tell me right the fuck now or I’m going to come over to your apartment and sit on you.”

“You say that as if it’s a threat.”

“Marinette!”

Marinette lets out a snort and slaps her knee. She sets the last pin before rolling the mannequin back into its temporary home for the night. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m just playing around, Als!”

“I love you, babe, but you’re killing me here.”

“Sorry,” she replies, though she’s really not.

“.....Marinette?”

“Oh! Right!” Marinette can hear Alya face-palming over the phone. “Well, all I remember is us talking and him telling me that he has to talk to me about something important. I don’t really remember much else but he kissed me on the cheek, Alya.”

Alya squeals—a sound Marinette’s never heard come from her mouth—and a jostling noise comes from her end. “Holy fuck, M! That’s amazing!”

“Right? At first I thought he was going to kiss me, but a cheek kiss is just as good nonetheless!”

“Babe, you were drunk. It’s a good thing he didn’t kiss you. That means he respects you, regardless of whether there’s any feelings or not there.”

Marinette lets out a small laugh, her heart swelling at Alya’s words. “You always know how to make situations better, don’t you?”

“It’s kind of my job,” Alya replies.

“And I love you for it.”

Alya blows a smooch over the phone. “Mwah! Right back at you.” She pauses, then quickly continues, “Oh! Did he say anything when he left your apartment after he dropped you off?”

Wait, what?

Marinette has no recollection of this happening whatsoever. She faintly remembers falling asleep against him—he was just so warm, okay?—but him taking her home? Alya has to be mistaken.

“He took me home? Are you sure? I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, he specifically told Nino and I that he’d take you home and then sent us a picture of you tucked in bed that night to ease my worrying. You know how much of a motherly hen I can be sometimes.”

None of it makes sense. Even if he did take her home that night, why was Chat Noir in her room early in the morning?

Unless…

No. There’s no way. Absolutely no way that she’s been this blind. No way that Marinette’s this lucky.

She’d know if her two favorite people in the world—excluding Alya and Nino—were the same person, right? There’s no way that the miraculous could’ve hidden it that well from her that she wouldn’t have noticed.

Except maybe... It had?

It comes together like whiplash. All of their mannerisms. From the way both Chat and Adrien rub their necks when they’re nervous, or when they make jokes but immediately retract them so as to not hurt the person’s feelings. Both of them having a rough home life and awful dads.

Piercing green eyes that remind Marinete of a home away from home.

It reminds her of those times in collège and lycée when Adrien would disappear and reappear whenever she would. She had attributed it to him being afraid of the akumas and finding somewhere safe to hide that entire time. It’s not like it was her place to judge anyone’s ways to cope with what was happening!

The quirks that the both of them share. Two halves of a whole. They merge together beautifully in her mind, filling a void she hadn’t known existed until now.

Her heart is so, so full.

“Als. I think I just had the world’s biggest revelation,” she breathes out, sounding absolutely lovesick.

“What is it?” Nino’s yelling about something incoherent in the background, and Marinette can just faintly hear Adrien’s voice.

“I think I’m in love with Adrien.” Her stomach flutters at her words.

Alya splutters out a hearty laugh. “Oh, M. We’ve been knew.”

---

Three days. Marinette’s lived with her secret for three whole days and she’s losing it.

She begged off spending time with Alya, Nino, and Adrien to try and gather her thoughts. Adrien being Chat is the best possible outcome for a partner she could’ve ever dreamed of, but she wants to tell him how much he means to her without fumbling over her words too much.

It’ll probably still happen. He is Adrien, for crying out loud.

Earlier, Marinette transformed so she could write some notes down in her compact in case she gets too flustered. Adrien’s nice enough that he won’t judge her for it, so she’s not too worried.

After a quick application of her favorite passion fruit flavor lip gloss, she sets off for their patrol meetup point.

“Tikki, I’m so nervous,” she says.

No response. Yes,. Marinette’s aware that her kwami can’t hear her or speak to her while she’s suited up, yet the hope still lingers for some absurd reason.

Marinette wholeheartedly blames the nerves.

Spotting Chat—Adrien is difficult. He blends into the shadows so easily that Marinette nearly falls off the building when he blinks his eyes open. She’s lucky that he has fast reflexes to catch her by the waist, because with how out of it she’s been today, she might’ve forgotten to use her yo-yo.

“Bug! It’s so nice of you to drop in.”

Oh no. His jokes just make him more attractive. She’s fucked.

Marinette’s hands fall to his biceps, and she’s unsure as to if she wants to tug him closer or push him away at that awful joke that has her heart racing. A look of surprise crosses his face and she squeaks, ducking out of his grip.

“Thanks,” she replies quietly.

“You didn’t make fun of my joke. Are you okay?” Concern etches its way onto his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette sees his fingers twitch in her direction. He stops himself as soon as he notices, choosing instead to idly twist the ring on his finger.

Taking a deep breath, she places her hand over his restless one. “Relax, kitty. I’m okay. Just nervous, because I have to talk to you about something.”

His eyes widen at her words, lips parting as he exhales a breath. She faintly feels it on her face as he says, “I have something to tell you too. It’s kind of urgent.”

“You can go first, okay? I can wait a little while longer.”

Adrien nods, tilting his head to the side with a cute smile on his face. “How much do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Marinette responds instantly.

It isn’t a lie, either. She genuinely trusts him with her life. Transformed, detransformed, heck, she trusts him blindfolded at this point.

He nods his head at her words and starts towards her, arms outstretched. Even as he scoops her up into his arms, her trust in him is unabated. “Hold onto me tight and don’t open your eyes until I tell you to, alright?”

“Alright,” she echoes.

Then, Adrien’s off, running over rooftops at speeds that seem unimaginable when it isn't of her own doing. Her ponytail whips about in the frigid air, Marinette using his neck as a shield from the harsh wind.

She’s thrown back to Glaciator, where she and Adrien spoke about misfortunes and missed opportunities. He ended up showing her a beautiful scene atop a nearby rooftop, as both Ladybug and Marinette. Thinking back, her racing heart should’ve been a sign that her feelings for Chat weren’t platonic, yet it took years of walking on eggshells for one of them to finally crack.

“We’re almost there. You good down there?”

“I’m fine,” she says, laughing into his suit. “This isn’t where I find out you’re going to drop me off a building as a prank, is it?”

He scoffs, softly landing on what she assumes to be another rooftop. “Hardy har har, Bugaboo.”

The sound of a door opening and closing lets her know they’ve arrived—apparently it wasn’t a rooftop—and the temptation to look around is higher than she expected. She waits for his approval, wanting him to trust her as much as she trusts him.

“I’m going to set you down now, okay?”

Marinette nods into his neck, extending her legs so she can place them on the floor as he lowers her. Her arms stay wrapped around his neck, while her eyes continue to stay closed.

“I’m going to step back and then you can look.” Adrien lingers for a brief moment, breath fanning over Marinette’s face.

As he shifts away from her, her arms drop to her sides. Her eyes blink open seconds later and she peers around the bright room a little dazedly.

They’re in her shared apartment with Alya—in her room.

Younger Marinette would be freaking out about having Adrien Agreste in her room.

(Older Marinette isn’t faring much better.)

For some strange reason, Adrien knowing her identity never popped into her head when he said he had to talk to her. She had no clue as to what it could’ve been—especially not that.

“Oh,” Marinette breathes.

“Please don’t be mad,” he rushes out, hands shaking about in front of him in a nervous manner. “I couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I know. And I didn’t mean to find out! I swear! It kind of just happened? I can’t even tell you how I found out unless you’re willing to know my identity too—gosh, I’m going to stop talking now.”

Seeing him so jittery helps to calm the rattling of her heart.

Marinette wordlessly grabs his hand and brings him over to the fluffy rug in the center of her room. She flops on top of it and criss-crosses her legs so he has enough room to do the same opposite her.

He follows, albeit a confused expression lingers on his face.

Their hands stay joined together, a nice weight resting on her knee. The tip of his claw is rubbing small circles into her palm, whether he notices it or not.

“I’m not mad,” she says, the softest of smiles spreading onto her cheeks. “I could never be mad at you, kitty.”

Adrien lets out a sigh of relief and squeezes her hand, her heart flipping at the fond look he gives her. “Good, good.”

They stare at one another for a moment too long, before Marinette murmurs fuck it under her breath and detarnsforms.

His suit is oddly cool against her bare knee, his eyes flickering to their hands then back up to her face. He licks at his lips and breathes out, “Oh.”

“Hi,” she greets, with a small wave of her free hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurts out.

Marinette lets out a surprised laugh, red peeking out under the dip of his mask. Her voice is teasing as she says,“Thank you, I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me blush or not.”

“Marinette, please.”

Hearing him say her name has her heart fluttering, and she detangles their hands to push up onto her knees, crawling towards him. She nudges his legs apart so she can fit between them, arms wrapping around his neck. Her cheek presses against his, the cool material of his suit helping to soothe her burning cheeks.

Even with the suit protecting him, she can feel the thumping of his heart against her chest.

“You wanna know my secret?” she asks faintly, as his hands move to settle on her back.

“Yes, tell me.” His claws rest lightly against the fabric of her shirt.

Her nose brushes against the tip of his ear and she feels him shudder. “I think you’re really, really cute, Adrien.”

“Plagg, claws off.” The transformation light has her eyes slipping shut briefly. When she reopens them, Adrien’s sat in front of her with a blinding smile on his face. “Hi.”

For some reason, she’s brought to tears by the situation. She holds them back the best she can. “Hey.”

She’s just so happy.

“I’m so glad it’s you, by the way,” Adrien professes, blinking back his own set of tears. “Like I know I’ve known for a while and all, but this still feels like finding out for the first time.”

“Are you trying to make me cry? You asshole,” she whines, tears sliding down her face.

Before she can reach up and wipe them away on her own, Adrien’s hand is there to do it for her. His touch is so gentle, and instead of returning to its previous position on her back, he tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Adrien. You mean so much to me. And to know that two of my favorite people are the same person? How could I be so lucky?”

“Two of your favorite people?” His head tilts to the side cutely, his hand idly stroking her jaw.

A blush returns to her face as she replies, “Yeah, I’m shocked you didn’t know, if I’m honest. I was so obvious about it! I’ve liked you as Adrien for so long, and then as soon as I realized that you’re Chat, all of my feelings for Chat were brought to light.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” he murmurs, licking at his lips.

“Oh, shut up. Don’t tease me!”

“I’m not teasing you, Mar! You’re just really cute!”

Oh god. Her face hides in his shoulder as she emits a small groan, gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt. “I’m going to pass out if you keep talking about me like this.”

Adrien lets out a laugh that vibrates against her chest. “Well, I don’t want you to pass out, but I need you to know how much I like you.”

“Adrien,” Marinette squeaks, face digging into his shoulder.

“Marinette,” Adrien echoes.

Slowly, she raises her head to shoot a pouty look in his direction. “You’re mean.”

“You don’t think I’m mean,” he starts, a devious glint in his eyes. Uh oh. “You like me.”

Marinette’s heart flips as his words, her lip only jutting out further. She tries to maneuver out of his arms, yet he doesn’t budge, his hand rubbing soothing circles against her back. “I take it back.”

“No, you’re not allowed to do that. I will cry again!” He widens his slightly bloodshot eyes to prove his point.

“How did you even find out?” she asks, smoothly changing the subject.

“You told me. At my birthday party. You were drunk, so I sat with you for a while and you started rambling about things that didn’t really make sense—”

“Oh no.”

He sends her a small smile, then says, “Yeah, I hadn’t really believed that you were Ladybug at that point because you were really drunk, yet you mentioned our patrol meeting spot for the week and called ‘Chat’ your annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass and it clicked.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving and never coming back. Why am I so embarrassing? Annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass? I could’ve lived without knowing I said that to you!” Her forehead drops to lean against his cheek.

“It was cute! You’re cute and I like you so much, yeah?” His head turns so he can make eye contact with her, their noises brushing with how close they are to one another.

Marinette really wants to kiss him.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she awaits his response.

“Of course. You really didn’t have to ask, because I’d let you kiss me any day of the week, but I think it’s really nice that you did ask—”

She cuts off his nervous rambling by kissing him, her hand sliding up into his hair at the base of his neck. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest.

He tastes like flavored lip balm, hand moving from the dip of her back to her hip to hold her steady.

He tastes familiar.

It’s weird to think of. She kissed him when Kim became akumatized. According to the picture Alya showed her after hers and Nino’s joint akumatization, they had kissed for whatever reason.

Their almost kisses come to mind and she feels a different type of heat rise on her cheeks.

Marinette pulls back with a groan, nearly squeaking as Adrien follows her blindly to press a chaste kiss to her mouth. He lets her slip out of his arms and shove her face into the carpet, a hand trailing gently over her back.

“Was it that bad?” he jokes, sifting his other hand through her hair.

“No, oh my gosh. It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of! Your lips are really soft! I just thought of how I tried to kiss you when you faked being a statue all those years ago and now I’m embarrassed!”

“You’re the cutest ever,” he says, flopping onto his side to lay next to her. He brushes his lips over the shell of her ear and nudges at her cheek with his nose. “Don’t be embarrassed! I’ve said and done so many things in front of you that could be considered embarrassing, but because it’s you, I don’t care.”

She turns her head and shoots him a look. “You never tried kissing a statue version of me!”

“And I like you even more for that! Look at us, Mar! We’re 18 and 19 respectively, and we’re laying on your fluffy rug around midnight! Everything about this could be considered embarrassing, except it’s not! Because it’s us.”

Adrien’s words only make Marinette more attracted to him at this point.

“We’re allowed to be embarrassing, but only when it’s us?” she asks.

He nods, lips quirking into a big smile. “Yes, exactly. I won’t be embarrassing with anyone else but you. You’re my embarrassing person, Marinette.”

“My heart shouldn’t be fluttering at you calling us embarrassing,” she whines, laying her hand on his chest.

“Embarrassingly in love idiots?” he whispers, finding her hand to tangle their fingers together so he can bring them up to his lips and brush his mouth over the back of her hand.

Marinette exhales a quiet laugh and says, “Very embarrassingly in love.”

They fall asleep like that, his arm wrapped around her waist while she lays her head on his chest, breaths mingling together.

It’s the best sleep she’s had in ages.

---

Marinette’s phone buzzing wakes her up the next morning.

She fumbles around for the device, letting out a small aha as her fingers grip the electronic. It’s hard for her to open her and stare at the small screen, yet when she notices it’s a message from Adrien, her eyes snap open.

Wait, when did she get in her own bed?

Quickly opening the message, she reads it with increasing vigor as the message goes on.

Adrien: Hey, Mar. I couldn’t stay long after you fell asleep because I had a photoshoot this morning and you looked so cute that I didn’t want to wake you. I feel like I did a poor job at letting you know how I felt yesterday, so I’m going to say it here so it’s clear and you know, okay? (Don’t judge me!!!)

I like you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You have such amazing qualities that I admire and adore. You’re a leader who isn’t afraid to stick up for what she believes in, whether you’re in the suit or out of it! You make the world a better place just by being you. I couldn’t think of a better person being Ladybug, and it makes me so happy that it’s you.

I’d love to get to know you more. I think we both know that we click really well at this point, but I want to do this right with you. We’re a team, Bug. You and me. So, what do you say?

Her hand groggily slaps the call button, wiping back a few tears that slide down her cheeks from his works.

The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hey, Mar. Did you get my message—”

“You stupid cat! I’m sitting here at eight in the morning crying because of you! I loved every second of it.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “So does that mean it’s a yes?”

“We should go to the museum and reenact our statue scene as our date,” Marinette suggests, a large grin making its way onto her face.

Adrien nearly chokes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want it any other way, little bug.”

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #miraculous ladybug fic #chat noir #ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir #i don't know whether to tag theo thers so ill just kepe it at them OKKOHGDKAOYERAO #IHOPE U LIKE IT EMSY I LOVE U

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

This sucks Part 2

A/N Here is the new part two for this sucks. Thank you for all the feedback and for calling me out for the shitty ending of the last version. I rewrote this part with a mixture of the old one. I’m not sorry about the last version but I did want to rewrite this and give this one-shot some justice. I thought this would be more appropriate for our plot. Lastly, I want to say thank you for your support. Without you, I would not have a place to share my work. Anyways, if you read the last version and is content with that, You don’t need to read this but for my lovely angsty cravers. I serve you a full plate of depression. Enjoy xxx

Word count 3456

Part 1

“Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Harry slurs to his guitarist as he tries his best not to fall back onto his hotel bed. He kept tripping and stumbling onto the mattress and that’s exactly why he doesn’t want it to happen again.

“Dude, you have a show tomorrow. You’ve been getting drunk every night and I don’t think it’s good for your career.” Mitch leans on the side of the wall with his arms crossed. His sarcastic reply just showed how tired he was about Harry acting out. He missed the last tour when everything was good... despite his breakup with Camille in the near end. At least, Harry wasn’t trying to drown himself in alcohol that time.

“You don’t know what’s best for me!” Harry grips onto the desk in front of him and reaches over his bag to grab the beaten journal. “Now leave me alone, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ve never seen you this fucked up before, Harry. You know we’re all here for you.” Mitch shares his disappointment as he watches Harry throw himself on the couch and dive into his journal. When Love on Tour first started, he was very quiet but as the shows progressed, Harry’s frustration began to seep through. Everyone could tell he was angry at himself. Obviously, heartbroken.

As Mitch stood in the corner of Harry’s room observing him, Harry tried his best to write something on the paper. He needed it to seem like he was focused. After a couple minutes, his friend leaves the room making Harry rub his face in relief as he throws his journal on the floor.

Fuck this. fuck this. He repeats in his head as he raises his hips in the air, trying to grab his phone from his back pocket. His eyes are lazily open as he taps on the screen searching for the green phone app. He looks for his favourites and out of fake shock, he stares at the only name on it. Y/N.

Giving a call once a day showed Y/N, he wants her back but calling her multiple times a day? Y/N had to know he was desperate.

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected.

The automated voice he hears every time repeats. It almost felt like she was laughing at him for being so pathetic. Out of anger, he tosses his phone on the floor and lays on his stomach. It felt weird being so angry and sad at the same time about a relationship that only lasted for four months but Harry knew it was the best relationship he has ever had. So maybe everyone can fuck off a bit because he just lost his girlfriend without actually being able to fight for her.

“Harry, you haven’t been answering your sister or your mum. They’ve been calling me to check up on you. Would you like me to schedule a time for you to call them.” Harry’s secretary Andy, asks him as they approach his private jet. They’re on their way back to America since he had just finished the European leg.

“No, but next time they call, tell them I said to fuck off.” Andy nervously swallows the lump in her throat and nods.

It’s been months! Months after Harry and Y/N’s break up but Harry can’t help but still feel anger at his family for being so close-minded. For hurting her.

“Harry, Camile has also been calling. She’s wondering what show would you like to see her at so we can send her y’know… the tickets.” Harry just scoffs at hearing his ex’s name. Of course, he started talking to her again early this year but after realizing he was in the wrong, he wanted nothing to do with her.

“Ignore her. I can’t talk to her.”

“Alright.” Andy types on her phone writing down something on her notes. Harry just takes a big sigh and looks out the window. Tour could’ve been fun this year. He could’ve brought Y/N to France, to Italy, to Brazil! But I mean, he couldn’t even be with her in London after she left his stupid ass. Gosh, he hates it here.

“When I wrote this song, I was in a dark place after a relationship of mine ended.” Harry darkly looks around the arena as he fixes the wire of his mic behind him. “I’m a very private guy but let me share one more thing with you all. I fucked up. This song is not even what I’m talking about but it does make me a bit sadder because I did become that guy I didn’t want to be.” His eyes couldn’t help but tear up as he watches his fans look at him in sadness. Fuck, he’s been drinking all the time and all he feels is guilt because these past shows, he was pretending to be happy. Yet he knew he wasn’t even close to that feeling and so did everyone around him.

As the familiar keys began to play, Harry couldn’t help but not look at any of his fans. He had to close his eyes and feel his pain.

I’m falling again, I’m falling again. I’m falling.

The number you have reached is not in service or is temporarily disconnected.

Harry rolls his eyes and tosses his phone on the couch. Tonight is his last show in North America. After this, he’s going to be heading south although, it already feels like he’s been heading in that direction for a long time.

“Come in,” Harry yells out coldly as he looks at himself dressed and ready to go to perform tonight.

“It’s just me, Jeff.” His manger lets himself in as he looks at the boy. “The Forum. Remember performing here the first time you released the album.” Harry just nods as he plays with the loose thread of his journal.

“She’s here tonight.” Harry chokes on his breath as his heart beats faster.

“Y/N?” He looks up immediately as he watches Jeff very carefully. “She’s here tonight?” He asks again for confirmation. Maybe, he heard him wrong?

“While we were in London and you were ignoring your family, I decided to give her a call.” Harry just scoffs as he glances at the TV of his fans singing to one of his old songs.

“You called her? She probably thinks I’m pathetic.”

“You are pathetic! Do you think I don’t know you call her all the time?”

“Her phone number isn’t even in service.”

“Exactly. Pathetic.”

“Where is she sitting tonight?” Harry decides to change the subject as he glances at his phone on the couch.

“Premium... more on the left side. Look, dude, I gave her an extra ticket to bring a friend but as I was checking in with Mark on visuals, I noticed her with a guy.”

“She brought a guy?” Harry couldn’t help but fist his hands. I mean he’s already had about 60 shows and it’s been 5 months but why did it surprise him, she’s here with another man? Funny to think she claimed she was falling in love with him. Maybe that guy was just a friend but he knew otherwise.

“I’m sorry H. I thought seeing her tonight would fix your relationship but it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t care.” Harry loses his tie. “Maybe, it was a good idea I started talking to Camile again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but I do.” ~

The show was on full swing now as Harry’s fans were screaming and cheering for him. His hands leave his mouth as he blows kisses to everyone in the room. As he searched the crowd throughout every song, he noticed how some faces were familiar to him. They must’ve been here last night too. After watermelon sugar, Harry turns his back from the crowd to take a drink as Mitch plays his solo for the tour.

He didn’t want his fans to see his frustration but he was losing his mind.

“Where are you going?” Sarah loudly whispers as she watches Harry walk off the stage.

“I’ll be back” He cuts her off and takes his water bottle with him as he quickly walks off the stage, waving to his fans.

“Harry, what’s up?” Jeff exclaims as he rushes to his side. “Do you need anything?”

“Where is she? I can’t find her.”

“Do you expect yourself to catch eyes with her tonight? You know full well that’s not even possible.” Harry rolls his eyes as he watches some of the workers moving around.

“Get someone to lead her backstage after the show.” He instructs Jeff coldly. He needed to make sure that Jeff followed through with this.

“Mr. Styles, we’re going to need you back on stage.” An unknown girl with a headset interrupts their conversation. Harry just nods as he turns away from Jeff.

“I need to talk to her... please.”

***

“You alright babe?” Robbie wraps his arm around Y/N as she smiles back without a response. It was weird being in the presence of another man during Harry’s concert. She always expected to be by herself watching him. To be with him before and after the show but tonight... she’s just another fan.

Y/N met Robbie on her flight back to LA after a dreadful trip to London. It was depressing. Walking in the streets alone. Taking awkward selfies at the big ben. What she hated the most was the sad frown she kept on her face or how her heart grew with anxiety when she asked a stranger to take a picture of her at the tower bridge.

“Sorry everyone, I had to take a wee.” Harry runs back on stage as he gives off a smile to everyone. For some reason, Y/N had a feeling he was lying. Usually, he would run back on stage but it seems like he wasn’t even in a hurry. The wrinkles on his forehead as he stared at the floor made her think there may be more on his mind than what he’s showing.

“So usually in this part of the setlist, I would be singing Cherry but tonight, I wanted it to be a bit more special. I’ll be singing Don’t Let Me Go. A song I wrote back late 2012’s. Luckily, Mitch and Charlotte already know how to play it.” (A/N This makes me sad ugh)

Don't let me

Don't let me go

Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

“Can’t believe you know this guy, babe! He’s amazing!” Robbie crosses his arms as he takes a sip of his beer. Y/N holds onto the rail, trying to not breakdown. “Hey, Are you crying?” Her boyfriend reaches out to her as she watches Harry looking at them. She doesn’t think he can see them but the way he kept glancing at the area she was in, he knows she’s here.

“Yeah, it’s just a really sad song.”

“Ms. L/N?” A woman with a headset approaches the couple.

“Yes.”

“Hi, I’m Amanda, Mr. Styles would like you backstage after the show.” Robbie flashes a big smile as he looks around them hoping no one is noticing their interactions with the lady.

“We’ll be there.” Robbie cuts in as he wraps his arm around his girlfriend. Y/N tenses up as she awkwardly smiles back at him.

“Actually, his instructions were very clear and he only wants Ms. L/N.” Her eyes widened as Robbie pulls away from her.

“Thank you.” She smiles and glances back at Harry.

“I’ll have someone get you during our last song.” and with that, Amanda walks away while Robbie coldly glares at Harry who’s taking a sip of water as the song comes to an end.

“Is there something going on between you guys?”

“No.”

“Why does he only want to see you? You never even told me how you two met!”

“Okay, Robbie. Calm down. I’ll explain later. He and I are just friends.”

Y/N follows the boy down the hallway as she hears Harry’s fans chant out his name. It’s been months since she had seen him and if she was being honest, Y/N never thought she would again. But Jeff sounded so sad and concerned about him that she wanted to see him. Despite breaking all her ties with him, She still thinks about him every day.

Y/N looks at the TV screen and notices the lights were now on and Harry and the rest of his band were off the stage. Robbie is probably sulking as he walks to his car right now. She thinks to herself.

The door harshly opens as Harry comes in all sweaty. “Hey.” Y/N waves at him as she quietly sits on his couch. He takes his jacket off and hugs her without another word. “You’re so sweaty.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she feels his familiar embrace. Maybe, laughing would ease off the awkward tension.

“I missed you Y/N.”

“I missed you too H.”

“I never thought I would see you again.” He sits on the couch beside her and runs his hand through his hair.

“I’ve always been excited to see one of your shows live.” She couldn’t help but brush her hair out of her face. Here is the man she was falling in love with. The man she chose to forget.

“How did Jeff get in contact with you? I tried calling your number a few times and it wasn’t in service.” Harry bit his lip at his question. He knew full well he called her number at least three times a day.

“I keep in touch with Glenne.” She watches Harry scoff. “What?”

“You can keep in touch with her but you can barely talk to me?”

“Our trip to London was a sign that we shouldn’t be together, Harry.” Y/N couldn’t help but get flashbacks from her traumatic trip. She was so excited to meet his family, only to find out they already hated her before she stepped foot inside their house.

“That trip was not how it was supposed to go. I had plans to make you so happy.”

“That’s funny since the only plan that came through was me finding out you started talking to Camile again.”

“Did you mean what you said to my mum?” He ignores her last comment as he watches her carefully. She shrugs her shoulders in confusion then it suddenly hits her… he’s talking about London. “I heard it all.”

“Oh.” She looks away from Harry and stares at the pattern of the rug in his change room. “Yeah, I meant every single word.” Y/N plays with her cuticles trying to keep herself from remembering that sad trip.

“I’m sorry about what happened. Camille was a big part of my life and I wanted to start seeing her again. Not like romantically but the way I still talk with Kendall.”

“It’s okay. I think it needed to happen.” Harry’s eyes flash in confusion. Last time, he spoke to her, they were so sure that this relationship would work out. Now, she’s managed to change her whole idea about them and that hurt a lot. Especially since she’s all he thinks about.

“Why would you say that?” He stands up in anger.

“Harry. Your mom and sister hated me! You clearly have or had feelings for Camille and you were going on tour We wouldn’t have worked out!”

“Are you blaming me?” He crosses his arms. He was offended.

“No.” Y/N rubs her face in frustration. “It was nice what we had, Harry. Believe me but now we can’t be together.”

“What? Why? Because you have that stupid prick as your boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Y/N stands up as well, preparing herself to leave. He grabs his journal from his vanity and opens it. He flips the pages as Y/N watches him in confusion.

He rips random pages out and crumples them. He takes her hands and forces her to take them. “I’ve been in love with you! Goddammit, just take me back!”

“Harry…”

“Look, I have more! I’ve been writing about you every day. I’ve been writing songs about you.” He looks at his journal one more time before closing it and throwing it on the floor. “I wrote this whole damn book about you!”

Y/N begins to cry as she watches the strong man she has always known break down in front of her. “I can’t… Harry. Please.” He goes on his knees and takes her hands full of crumpled paper.

“You never even gave us a chance baby. Fuck, I should’ve stopped you the moment you walked out that door. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Y/N couldn’t bare herself to look at him as she feels his hands on her.

“You should have gone with me to the store that day. I should’ve shown you around my town! Now I can barely talk to my family because they remind me of who I lost. What I lost!”

“Harry. I don’t want this anymore. I’ve always been scared of our relationship. I can’t handle this.” It’s true. She watched romantic movies her whole life and the more she admired those types of relationships, the more she didn’t want one herself. Y/N knows her life isn’t a movie but if Rachel McAdams cried her heart out during The Notebook while in character, she can’t imagine what else Harry can throw at her so she can experience that type of heartbreak. She needed a clean break from him. Robbie was her safe choice.

“I love you, please.” He shakes his head in frustration. “I dream about you. I think of you. I need you!”

“I can’t!” She shakes her head as she tries to help him up. She takes the crumpled paper and runs to his vanity as he stands behind her, confused. She eagerly tries to flatten them out. She bends down to grab his journal and tries to place each page back in the book.

“What are you doing?” He approaches her. “Those are for you!”

“No Harry! These are for you. I need you to keep these. I need you to remember us.”

“I need you to remember us.” He whispers and grabs her wrist to stop working. “You forgot about me.”

“I had to. I needed to.” She looks at the mirror and watches his eyes in the mirror.

“I thought we were stronger than this.”

“It’s been five months. You should move on too, H.” She pulls away from Harry and continues to fix his journal. She remembers the nights he would write in the leather book. How calm he looked. How happy he was.

“Just admit it then! You took the first problem that occurred and used that to leave me!”

“Fine! I did! I admit it!”

“You’re just as bad as me then!”

“You were in love with Camille!!”

“Then why do I feel like dying every day ever since you left me!”

The silence makes Y/N’s heart beat faster as Harry finally lets out his last thoughts. He takes hold of her hips and pulls her in close to him. He glances once at her lips then stare at her eyes.

Y/N didn’t know what to do. Her mind was screaming at her to pull away from him and leave but her heart wanted something more. Ironic enough, that familiar thump in her heart has always been present. The guilt she felt when she first started dating Robbie. The ache she felt when she watched Harry’s interviews late at night. Now, it was asking for something different. Something more. She holds onto the back of his neck as she kisses him. Harry pushes her back onto his vanity, helping her sit on it.

Lips so familiar. Taste so heavenly. A scent so intoxicating. He needed more. She missed him.

“I’m sorry fuck I’m sorry.” Y/N pulls away and pushes his chest a bit lightly.

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore. I’ll let you go.” He lets out. He was hoping that it wasn’t true. This would be the only way to trap her into admitting that she wants to be with him again. He’s selfish. It’s true.

“You know that wouldn’t be true.” Harry’s heart skips a beat.

“So, stay with me. I need you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I love you but I can’t.” She moves off a bit and hops off his vanity. She takes a deep breath and looks at him. “I think you’ll find someone for you.”

“Do you love Robbie?” He ignores her last statement. Truth be told, Y/N doesn’t. She began dating him two months ago and all she thinks about is Harry.

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m lying! Harry, please don’t let me go through this again.”

“I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you walk away from me.” She gives him a soft smile as she takes her phone from her pocket.

“I have to go. Robbie just texted me. He’s angry.”

“Will I ever see you again.”

“Probably not.”

“So what? You’re going to keep avoiding me from now on?”

“I think I might have to. Take care H. Take care of yourself, please.”And with that, Harry watches Y/N walk out of his life for the final time.

He takes his journal and walks to the couch. He lazily slouches as he takes a random paper out. It’s about her, of course, it is. He places the sheet on the top of his heart and closes his eyes. “This sucks.”

Maybe, this was the closure Harry needed but for some reason, his heart was hurting more.

part trois

#Harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanifction #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #one direction #one direction one shots #blurbs

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