#I probably could have finished the speech today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auras-moonstone · 2 months

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Hi! Can I request one with non gf Ethan, he and reader are dating and it's his birthday and maybe his family never made a big deal about it but reader goes all out, she hangs balloons on his dorm, gets him a cake and some presents maybe she skipped classes that day so he hasn't seen her and then Ethan goes to his room and sees everything and it's all cute and fluffy cause y'know it's Ethan he'd probably cry

birthday themed cause… today’s my birthday yayy !

big cake, happy birthday — ethan landry

word count: 1.1k

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: knowing that his boyfriend never had the birthdays he deserved, y/n makes a surprise party for ethan.

contents: family neglect? new-found family. y/n being a bit too much. emotional ethan. chaotic group dynamic.

y/n was on a mission to make this the best birthday ethan has ever had. she wanted everything to be perfect, and she ordered her friends around to make sure it turned out that way. to put it mildly, y/n was not the group’s favorite person that day.

“y/n i swear to fucking god if you yell at me one more time.” tara said annoyed.

the frustrated girlfriend sighed and took deep breaths. “you’re right. i’m sorry, guys. i just… they never cared, you know. it was never about him, not even on his birthday. i want to make sure that changes from now on. i want him to know how special and loved he is. i want this to be flawless.”

the group exchanged glances. chad nearly cried. “it’s okay.” tara said softly. “you’re a great girlfriend, y/n/n. a great person.”

“thanks.” she smiled. “but it still wasn’t okay of me to yell and get so bossy. you guys can go now, i’m going to skip classes. you’ve done more than enough.”

“are you sure?” mindy asked.

y/n nodded. “yeah, i’ll just finish the decorations and make the cake. you distract eth, don’t make him feel alone, okay? spoil him. and no smartass comments towards him today, mindy.”

the girl rolled her eyes and the group headed out. “how did she manage to make us feel guilty for calling her out on her bossy behaviour?” chad asked confused.

“i don’t know, but fuck if that wasn’t the cutest speech i’ve ever heard.” anika said, shaking her head.

ethan really appreciated his friends company, they had made him feel special all day, but he really really really missed his girlfriend. he wanted special attention from her, and he hadn’t seen her in more than twelve hours.

when he noticed she missed her first class, he immediately sent her a text asking what was wrong and she replied saying she had terrible cramps so she was going to skip uni. it put a pout on his face, but he understood and told her he would go to her house later with ice cream and a heating pad.

“so, are you doing anything special?” chad asked him as they made their way to their dorm.

“i’m going to take a shower and then head to y/n’s. we’re having dinner at her house, she’s not feeling well.”

well, no. if this morning was any indication, she was probably having the most stressful of days, thought chad. he hadn’t seen someone care so much about a person like y/n cared about ethan.

when they were one block away, chad subtlety sent y/n a text telling her they were close. the girl’s heart started going wild in nervousness.

“fuck, they’re coming. everyone hide!” y/n yelled.

“we’re right beside you.” mindy muttered under her breath.

“leave her alone.” anika muttered, dragging her girlfriend to the hiding spot.

chad unlocked the front door and let ethan go in first. he turned on the lights and was stunned by shouts of surprise!

the group greeted him with a hug and a happy birthday, and the guy could only mutter low thank you’s, completely overwhelmed with appreciation.

y/n put a birthday hat on him with a joyful smile. “happy birthday, babe. did we surprise you?”

his eyes got glossy, and for a moment, y/n panicked. but then ethan smiled, making a few tears fall. “you all did this for me?” he asked looking around. there were balloons everywhere, warm fairy lights hanging behind a table filled with food and colourful letters sticked to the wall that read happy birthday.

“of course.” y/n said softly, pressing one short kiss on his lips.

“it was mostly y/n, not gonna lie. she has been working on this the whole day.” chad spoke up, wanting her to have the credit she deserved.

“thank you, guys. this is… more than perfect.” ethan went to give every each of them a hug. when he reached y/n, he completely broke down. “i love you so much. thank you. you didn’t have to do all this.”

“i just want you to know how much you mean to us. how much we love you.” she rested her forehead against his. “i’m so lucky to have you in my life. this little party? this is the least i could do to show you how special you are.”

“you make me feel special everyday, y/n/n.” he whispered as she cleaned his tears.

“fuck, the yelling and the mistreatment were totally worth it. this is so wholesome.” chad said looking at his love-sick best friends.

y/n rolled her eyes. “look, just in my defense, you were all being kind of lazy. honestly, i just asked you to hang up the fairy lights and the garlands. you don’t need an hour and a half to do that!”

“but you were a little on edge today.” tara said.

“and insufferable.” mindy added.

“i was not!” y/n frowned.

“you texted us every thirty minutes to ask us how ethan was doing.” mindy retorted.

“can you blame me? i was guilty for not being there the whole day. i didn’t want him to feel sad about it.” she defended herself, hugging her boyfriend tightly.

“she’s making us feel like assholes again.” chad whispered to tara.

ethan laughed. “leave my stressed girlfriend alone.” he kissed her cheek. “i love you even when you’re bossy, on edge and insufferable.”

y/n let out a chuckle and snuggled into his chest. “i love you too.”

“he gives you a back-handed compliment and gets cuddles?” mindy asked offended.

y/n shrugged. “it only matters that he said he loves me.”

“i hate you both.” mindy rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. even she couldn’t deny they were the cutest couple.

“i love you, guys. this is the best birthday ever.” he said happily.

when it was time to blow the candles, ethan looked around and his heart had never felt warmer—his chosen chaotic family gathered around buzzing with excitement, was there anything else he could wish for? there was only one thing that came to mind: please, never take them away from me.

“group hug!” y/n yelled when the candles were blown, and next thing he knew he was being tackled to the ground. “happy birthday, eth. i love you forever.”

“i love you forever too.” he pecked her lips.

“ew! not with us above you!” sam snickered.

“do you have to be lovey all the damn time?” mindy gagged.

with the love of her life in his arms and the sound of their friends making fun of them and acting annoyed, ethan had never felt happier.

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florence-end · 9 months

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Stitch up

Azriel x reader

Request: Could you please write a story where Azriel and the reader are on a mission, and the reader is injured and she needs stitches, and Azriel is the one who has to do it.

Warnings: vague description of injury, sad Az, hurt/comfort

“Sweetheart, please. You need to sit still so I can do this right.”

“Az, it’s not necessary. The bleeding has stopped and it’ll close up by itself. There are people out there that need proper healing, I need to get back out there.” You continued to evade Azriel’s flittering hands as he tried to hold your face still to assess the wound on your cheek. His large frame blocked the doorway to your tent, stopping you from slipping past and back out into the war camp.

“It is fucking necessary. Sit down now,” he was getting frustrated now but so were you. You stared each other down, neither bothering to hide your irritation from the other through the bond.

“You might give orders on that battlefield, Azriel, but you will not tell me what to do when it comes to healing my patients. Get out of my way,” you demanded, arms crossed over your chest. The stinging of the laceration on your cheek was long forgotten, and the Hybern General that had inflicted it was long dead thanks to your mate.

Azriel hesitated before stepping to the side, clearing your path to the door. But as you reached it, he spoke again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please just let me stitch you up, I’ll be quick.”

You turned to look at him, noting that the anger on his face had quickly melted to guilt and pleading. You glanced out of the tent to assess how much you were needed at the healers’ stations, and realised your colleagues had it mostly under control.

Without speaking, you walked back to your mate and sat down in one of the chairs he had pulled over from the strategy table.

He gave you a small smile, and his shadows brushed over your arms and hands in gratitude as he readied the suture kit. He began his task in silence.

“Why is this so important to you? You knew I would have been fine letting it heal on its own,” you asked gently, understanding there was an issue Azriel hadn’t voiced yet.

“I can’t let you scar,” he murmured quietly, not meeting your eye as he focused on getting his stitches perfect.

“The thought of a small scar on my face is really that repulsive?” you replied, trying to keep your hurt feelings from projecting down the bond.

Azriel’s head snapped up.

“No! Gods no, it’s not that. You would be perfect in my eyes no matter what, a scar couldn’t change that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” you urged again.

“I have so many scars. Probably hundreds by now. And they are all permanent reminders of times I was too weak to protect myself. I wasn’t fast enough or clever enough in a fight, or I wasn’t strong enough to deter my brothers from tormenting me. I can’t stand the thought of my failure to protect you today becoming a permanent mark on your skin,” he took a deep breath as he finished his speech and lowered his hands as they had begun shaking.

You took the needle from him and placed it on the table next to you before cupping his face in your hands. After a beat of silence, his eyes met yours.

“Azriel, you have never once failed to protect me. This wound is proof of that. A Hybern General marked me for death while I was too busy to defend myself, and yet I’ve walked away with barely a scratch. And your own scars are proof of nothing but your bravery and honour in everything you do,” you spoke with certainty, and sealed your declaration with a kiss to his chapped lips.

Never one for many words, Azriel simply nodded but his eyes were a fraction lighter than they had been before and the love he sent flooding through the bond was enough of a response for you.

Leaning forward to press his own kiss to your forehead, he picked up the needle and continued his task.

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

A short but sweet one hopefully! Thank you for the request🫶

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you

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comphetkoncass · 7 months

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little fic about tim's love language being contingency plans

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The thing is, Tim has a way of attacking Kon’s problems like a puzzle. Like a riddle, waiting to be solved.

Tim’s plans also don’t involve much feeling, usually, even if the issue is purely an emotional one. While Tim is decent at listening and empathizing, at a certain point he always gets his Robin face on. A signal that, while he’s still certainly listening, there’s a chemical reaction in his brain, completely out of his control, that activates his detective skills. His problem-solving skills.

It has taken Kon a combined two lifetimes, four years, five collective identities, and two–maybe three?–timelines, but Kon has finally gotten Tim to at least ask before starting to strategize. But lately, Tim has undergone some personal growth, and Kon is starting to wonder if, perhaps, he has learned to not even ask. To instead, politely wait for a signal – a sign, an invitation, even– that said advice is actually wanted.

Kon would like to take the credit for training him, he really would. But he has a feeling he’s only one of many factors.

Today, Kon is sitting face-down on Tim’s bed. Krypto sits on top of Kon’s back, the world’s most powerful emotional support dog pinning him in place. Preventing him, more like, from leaving before he's gotten all his complicated, messy, unwanted feelings out. Also preventing him from looking up at his boyfriend before Kon is done feelings-dumping, because otherwise Kon just won't finish talking, and it will go unsaid.

So Kon can’t see it; he can't see the detective face for himself. Can’t verify, for sure, absolutely, 100%, that TIm’s detective face is on.

But he knows it’s there.

He’s just spent half an hour talking about his latest identity crisis. Of course Tim’s detective face is on. It’s probably been on since minute two.

However, Tim is also running his fingers through Kon’s hair, and making the occasional appropriate comment, always generous and rational and kind, always active listening, and– listen, Kon isn’t immune to the soft victim support voice. He’s definitely not immune to the Robin leader voice, but the softer, empathetic, gentle one Tim uses with people who need help? And when it bleeds in so subtly into his regular speaking voice that it’s not immediately obvious that’s where he pulling it from?

Incredible. Show-stopping. Kon could listen to it all day, if he wasn’t the one monopolizing the conversation by info-dumping all his problems.

Finally though, he finishes the garbled, soft, self-deprecating speech about how he’ll never be completely free of Lex’s braingook (yes, that is the scientific name for it, thank-you-very-much) and how that means he’s always going to have a chip on his shoulder until Lex dies and even then Kon’s going to have to worry about some secret chip in his brain that transfers Lex’s consciousness to his or what-the-fuck-ever.

He can hear the comment Tim wants to make. The unspoken, soft little, 'You know, we could probably test you for that... A chip would definitely show up on an MRI...'

Instead, Tim only pauses the briefest, softest moment. “...That must be really stressful for you, worrying about that.”

Kon looks up, just a little. Sees Tim’s best poker face.

Then sighs, and bids the victim comfort voice goodbye. “Okay, I give in,” he says, and moves to cross his arms in Tim’s lap instead. Krypto lets out an annoyed little huff at being jostled from Kon's back, but he soon hops off Kon’s back and moves to lay at his side instead. Kon rubs him behind the ears, Krypto butts his head against his hand, and all is well again. “C’mon, out with it.”

“Hm? Out with what?” Tim asks, still in the same plaintive tone. “What do you mean?”

“Relax, you can stop the sympathy. I know you want to start strategizing how to solve all my problems,” Kon says, and leans up in what he hopes is a very kissable position, because he really wants one. “You’ve suffered enough, I know you’ve already thought through eighteen different plans.”

Tim lets out a shuddering breath, immediately sagging his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says, sounding exhausted. Distracted, and clearly already thinking of how to phrase his plans, he meets Kon halfway for a kiss. It's even a proper kiss, soft and sweet, and it really does make Kon feel better. Then, to his surprise, Tim also presses a more tender one just between his brows. “I really do empathize, though. Just so you know. This isn’t me not empathizing. But I mean, if you're giving me explicit permission it's not like I haven't been starting to think about how we could test for these and help you stop worrying about them-”

Kon shakes his head, fond and sweet. “I know. Your love language is solving people’s problems for them, I've accepted this about you."

Tim looks the tiniest bit offended. "I- that's not a love language."

"It is for you," Kon says. Then, he grins, looking up at his boyfriend through his lashes. "So come on. If it's your love language... Show me you love me.”

Tim’s cheeks bloom red. But he smiles instead of shying away, then runs his fingers through Kon’s hair again, gentle and sweet. “Get comfortable then, because I’ve got a lot of- love to show. To finish the metaphor, I mean. There’s only five so far, but number three is kind of complicated, you're going to want to take notes, but I could summarize it again for you afterwards, when you're less cozy-”

Yeah, Kon thinks. There’s no denying how much Tim loves him. He might be a strategist at heart, but Tim also wouldn’t make immediate contingency plans for just anyone, either.

Kon curls up on Tim’s lap soon after, with Krypto snuggled up onto his chest. As long as Tim keeps stroking his hair, Kon doesn’t mind the clinical approach to his problems. It’s nice to have a boyfriend who can both meet him where he’s at, and say what he really feels. Even nicer, he thinks, to know that it’s all coming from a place of genuine affection.

#timkon #cdw writes #kon-el #tim drake

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bluhourz · 5 months

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when you argue

You sighed heavily when the time to go home finally came. You were always super excited to go home after work as your boyfriend would be waiting for you there, happy as ever to see you. Today was a bit different though. Last night you got into an argument with your your boyfriend. A lot of mean words were thrown about as you both got more and more frustrated. He ended up crossing the line at the end of the night as he brought up a big insecurity of yours. You haven't spoken to him since.

The idea of going home and seeing him just made you tired and upset at this stage. You hated fighting with him and missed him so much already. But you had to stay strong.

After finally making it home, you entered your shared apartment and pulled your shoes off. You heard the TV playing some or other anime he was probably watching but you didn't look up as you passed him on the couch, keeping your eyes on the ground and quickly walking to your room.

Another heavy sigh escaped you as you started undressing. Getting into your most comfortable clothes, you made your way to the bathroom to wash up. The silence surrounding you lasted only a few seconds before you sensed someone in the doorway. Not wanting to acknowledge your boyfriend's presence, you continued on with your routine.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi Beomgyu," you forced out, suppressing a sigh.

Silence. He stood there for another few minutes before speaking up again.

"How was your day?"

The awkward small talk was killing you, but you entertained your boyfriend as he tried mustering up the courage to speak to you about what he said.

"It was okay. I'm just tired now," you mumbled as your started finishing up.

"Me too," he whispered, eyes flickering between your face and the ground.

An uncomfortable silence fell over you again. You finished drying your face before walking past him and into the kitchen this time. You could hear the shuffling of his feet as he softly followed you through the house. While you were making ramen for yourself to nibble on, Beomgyu stood by the counter and watched you closely. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head as we formulated his sentences. Standing with your arms crossed, you leaned against the counter and looked at your feet, waiting for the ramen to start cooking. This was unbearable, but you weren't going to crack first.

You only realised Beomgyu was infront of you when you saw his slippers come into your view. You looked up slowly and made eye contact with those same eyes you love looking into. Only this time they were filled with so much sadness.

Beomgyu reached out and slowly took your hands into his. He didn't speak for a while and only looked at your intertwined hands. You let him hold you, sensing he was getting his thoughts together.

"I really am so sorry Y/N," his shaky first words came, "I fucked up so much last night by saying that to you. I don't know why I said it. It's not even true. I was just upset and I spoke without thinking. I am so sorry baby."

By the end of his little speech, he was in tears. He still hasn't looked at you since he started speaking. By now his thumbs were rubbing anxious circles on your hand.

A few tears have now made their way down your cheeks as well. You were exhausted and just wanted to be in his arms. So you put his arms around you and wrapped your own around his neck to bring him closer. Your boyfriend tightened his arms around you and cried into your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry jagi," he whimpered softly.

"It's okay Gyu," you murmured, rubbing a comforting hand over his shoulder.

You stood there long after the ramen finished cooking, just glad to have made up with each other.

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acowardinmordor · 1 year

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Thank christ everyone in Hawkins already thought he was a freak. Freezing mid-word in a monologue while the memory of his own failing pulse faded from his ears was exactly as weird as the fact that he was delivering the monologue from on top of a cafeteria table. The students who were ignoring him continued ignoring him. The ones paying attention waited for whatever dramatic continuation he’d have after a pause.

Eddie waited on the table, staring across the room to look at Chrissy Cunningham for a few seconds, then hopped down, speech abandoned, with scattered jokes in the room around him.

“Henderson,” he snapped as a summons, then headed for the exit.

“What was that dude? You were just getting going.”

“No talking.” He spun, holding up a finger dramatically. “Come with me, I need your brain.”

“In a zombie way or in a Dustin is Always Smarter than Me way?”

That didn’t get an answer, and Eddie didn’t speak again until he got to storage room off the stage, flipping on the red gelled lights, and closing the door.

“Alriiiiight. Ed, this is getting super weird now. You planning on explaining why I don’t get to finish lunch? You gonna talk before I miss class? I know you don’t care, but I actually go to my classes, it makes it much easier to pass them you know?”

Unusually still, Eddie slumped against the wall, and fiddled with his rings.

“Do you think if Frodo knew what it was going to cost to destroy the ring -- Before it started and Gandalf showed up. Like. If Frodo knew that it was -- Or, no, wait, if Sam knew what was going to happen, do you think he could have stopped it? Everything that went wrong?”

“Uhhhh. What? This is why we’re here? To talk about Lord of the Rings?”

“Just do your thing, Dusty-buns. Be the smart kid in the room. If Sam knew what was coming, could he have made it better?”

“Okay, you gotta stop getting high during school, dude, but sure, I can indulge your random thought exercise for a minute. I think if Sam knew what was coming, he wouldn’t have let Frodo leave the Shire. No hobbits in the Fellowship at all.”

Eddie winced. “Yeah, probably true. Sam was the smart one. But say he didn’t... run away. Say he wasn’t a coward about it. Could he fix things if he knew about stuff, or would trying make it worse?”

“Eddie,” Dustin prodded suspiciously, “Did you actually read your homework about Oedipus and now you’re trying to make it about a book you like? Wait. Are you trying to make me do your homework for you?”

“Just answer it, you brat. If he could change things, does he go all out? Explain it to Gandalf from the beginning? Make sure they skip Moria? Does he wait until the last minute so things don’t do the butterfly thing and he has more control to help? Does he practice with a sword or fight the barrow wights or make Elrond send Glorfindel with them? What would he -- what should he do? If he knew what was coming.”

An eye roll. Christ, the attitude on this kid.

“Dude, you’re weird today. This is for the campaign, isn't it? Great. But you know I’m going to figure out your surprise early because of this, and it’s going to ruin it for me. So you owe me big time. I want to roll with advantage the entire session today.”

Dustin paused to think, but the response came fast enough that he must have thought about it before.

“Your question doesn't really matter. If Sam knew what was coming for some reason, before it all started, then he already changed everything. It doesn’t matter if he wants to be subtle. He already started the butterfly effect. Just knowing it’s coming would make it all different even if he didn’t mean to change things. Sam would trust Strider sooner. He’d try to keep them safe in the Barrow Downs. Or, I don’t know man, he’d pack extra waterskins to make it easier to get across Mordor and that would slow him down and get him killed before they left the Shire.

“Or the other option: it’s like Oedipus, and everything he does to save them ends up changing nothing. Fate and shit. But you asked about what he should do, dude, so. That’s an easy answer. He has to try. No choice. Either he can make things better or he can't. But he has to try. Spiderman and Uncle Ben, that’s the answer to this ridiculous scenario,” Dustin finished with a shrug.

“That was talking about having super powers.”

“Uncle Ben was talking about everything. With great power…”

“Comes great responsibility,” Eddie finished.

“And knowledge is power. No choice.”

“So Sam Gamgee should just yell fuck it, and go all out, huh?” Eddie muttered, flopping himself into a sprawl over a musty chair.

“You really gotta stop getting high in the bathroom during second period, man.”

The red gel over the lights was to stop spill during shows. One of the bulbs was dying, and making the glow flicker a bit. Not lightning, no switch to creepy blue-grey in between, no bats screeching or flecks of death lingering in the air. A reminder though. Enough of one.

Dustin glanced at the flicker, and the flinch Eddie would have ignored a week ago made sense now that Eddie knew what could follow. The exasperated look, and the bit of indulgence as he let Eddie have his dramatics made the memory -- Memory? Vision? Prophecy? -- of Dustin sobbing above him a sharper contrast.

“You done?” Dustin asked, “cause I’m still hungry.”

Standing up, cracking his knuckles against his jaw, Eddie snagged the kid into a tight hug. “Ah my good young adventurer,” he said as he pulled away to hold him by the shoulders, “We’re just getting started.”

Pretending to be normal and giving a performance made his skin crawl, so he went back to a serious expression.

“Okay dude, seriously, what is wrong with you today?”

Christ, Dustin was going to be insufferable when he found out that he was Eddie’s first choice when he had a life altering crisis over a shift in his understanding of the universe. That he was where he went for advice. And that Eddie followed his advice. He was going to be awful, and Eddie really hoped he'd be around to suffer through it.

“Go tell Hellfire that tonight’s session is canceled.”

“What!?”

“Then grab Robin and find out if Steve is at work today.”

“WHAT? You don’t even like--”

“Then get your radio, get the rest of the party, and definitely get Max. We’re all ditching out the rest of the day. Meet me at my van. Nancy can take some of you. I’ll get the rest.”

“...Eddie?” Dustin’s voice wobbled a bit that time. He was starting to put it together.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie confirmed on a loud exhale. “I’ve gotta go talk to a cheerleader and try not to get punched because of it. You gotta get the others.”

“Eddie,” the plea, the denial in his voice was fucking painful.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s Code Red.”

Part Two>>

On Ao3

#eddie munson #time travel fix it #at least this one'll stay a ficlet #flip the board

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cheolsblackgf · 1 year

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bags

⇒ woozi x reader

⇒ word count: 750 (it was last time i checked, but then i added some stuff so just disregard this)

⇒ warnings: none

⇒ content: certified fluff zone; established relationship with dare I say tsundere!jihoon

⇒ note: enjoy ♡

“i’m bored.” you say, throwing another crumbled paper ball in the recycling bin. your boyfriend’s eyes dart to you quickly, before going back to his computer screen. “you’re always bored when you come here,” he remarks, followed by some audible clicking, “I don’t know why you keep coming.” he adds in a barely audible voice. you pretend you don’t hear him, and he pretends he didn’t say anything. he knows why you come here every tuesday after work and he loves when you come, though he won’t say it in as many words. ever since you first got into a relationship with him, he’s made it seem like he doesn’t like having you around. though it’s probably because his confession could’ve been described as embarrassing, you don’t see it that way. (your name spelled (incorrectly) in butter on a piece of toast, followed by “I like you”.)

at that point in your life, you didn’t have an adequate amount of time to make breakfast since you were always running late, so it was always toast. he picked up on that and managed to catch you one day outside of your office building. the piece of toast was cold, and the butter was barely visible, but he had a whole little speech planned out and even through the obvious sleep deprivation, he was adorable and you’ve liked him ever since.

now, in order to somehow make up for the dignity he supposedly lost during that encounter (and the relentless teasing from you), he pretends you’re a nuisance any chance he gets. at first, you just thought he was being silly, but over time, and the more he called you silly names very obviously filled with love like “dummy” (your favourite) among others, you realised he was totally committed to this bit. it didn’t annoy you like it may annoy someone else because he’s jihoon, and you know what he’s capable of.

about six months from the beginning of your relationship, jihoon invited you to his workplace. it’s a cozy little studio on the middle floor of a big building in the city. it’s about a fifteen minute walk from your office, but you don’t mind it.

at the start, he wasn’t really meaning for it to become a routine or expecting you to come each time, but the more he invited you, the more you built it into your schedule. tuesday was always the golden day. work ends early for you on that day, and you don’t have as many errands.

he always orders takeout for you when he knows you’re coming by, too, which might be the sweetest thing. you don’t always get to eat lunch on tuesdays because you wouldn’t be able to leave early if you took the optional lunch break they offered at your office. jihoon knows this, and he always makes sure to ask you what you’re feeling that day so he can order accordingly.

today, he ordered fish and chips from the “anything” restaurant down the street. he never gets anything when he orders you food, but he “tastes” your food each time. so much so that you portion off every meal with him. this should bug you, but how could it? you almost never finish all your food by yourself anyways.

“oh shit,” you exclaim as a notification comes through your phone. it’s the grocery carrier announcing your groceries being dropped off. “I have to go, my groceries are sitting outside my doorstep and I don’t want them to go bad. damn, I thought he would’ve come later.” you curse. when they say speedy delivery, they mean it.

jihoon’s pout is barely visible, but when he turns to look at you, you see he’s not thrilled to hear you’re leaving. he goes to grab your bag from the hook on the wall for you, but moves like there’s double sided tape on the bottom of his shoes.

you get up and tidy your area before going to stand in front of your boyfriend to bid him goodbye. he grabs both your arms and pulls you in, causing you to completely forget your script. “see you later.” he says placing a fairly quick peck to your lips. he lets you go soon after, but when you don’t move, he’s confused.

“do that again.” you request. jihoon doesn’t usually kiss you. he’s usually on the receiving end because his version of affection involves less intimate contact, which is fine with you. it won’t stop you from kissing him, though.

“you’re pathetic.” he replies, and kisses you again. “okay, again.”

“your groceries–” he reminds you, though you haven’t forgotten. to hell with the goddamn groceries.

“it’s just yogurt. kiss me again.”

“okay, okay!”

#woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios

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mybworlds · 21 days

Text

CHAPTER 10

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel shortly after invites you to close your eyes and you obey by covering your eyes with your hands, when you feel his bed fold under his weight and he tells you that you can open your eyes, you see in front of you in his hands a brand new computer with a small rosette on it.

You widen your eyes and in a whisper you say, "Joel, but…today is not my birthday…I…I…don't…" you are totally speechless, you stare at that appliance as if it is one of the most precious things you have ever seen, then you stare at the man sitting next to you who knows how to warm your heart even with these seemingly trivial gifts, but not for you.

"Sssh, it doesn't matter 's not your birthday," he says putting the computer on the cover "you told me you had a computer and I thought you didn't have it anymore to talk about it in the past and then I know you want to write. And so I thought…" you don't let him complete the speech because you throw your arms around his neck feeling your eyes pinch with joy.

"Oh, Joel. I…" you don't know what to say, this gift is totally unexpected. You hide your face in the crook of his neck for a few seconds as he lays his hand on the nape of your neck in a sweet gesture, then you look at him, "Thank you-- I don't know what to say. But, how…when…?"

He smiles lowering his gaze for a moment "Remember when I wrote ya I was still in the other city and wouldn't finish work until 5?" you nod "Well, actually I was already here, but I was deciding which model to buy. Actually I know nothing 'bout computers and I hope I got ya a good model."

"Oh, Joel," you squeak, "you know I can't take it home with me, though," you remind him regretfully.

He shrugs his shoulders, "Leave it here, he'll be our little secret."

Thankfully it stopped snowing, slowly snow and cold are giving way to sunshine and beautiful days. It warms your heart to feel nature reborn and blooming again. Although there is a constant gray cloud over your head: your mother and her behavior. Indeed, going back to your home, expecting to be the same as before, acting the same as before, praying with your mother before meals and before bedtime causes cramps in your stomach. You are no longer the little girl who used to submit to your mother's will to please her, that obedient little girl who did and said whatever her mother wanted is no longer there. Of course, you have respect for her and her role, but many things you no longer tolerate or want to do: it's unbearable. Before for you to do everything she told you seemed almost right, almost normal, today for example having her drive you to work and feel her look at you until she sees that you are inside, has become too much. You'd like to let her know that it's probably time for her to let you fly away, but you already know what her response will be: honey sooner or later you will, but as long as you are under my roof that will not happen. Maybe it would be time to think about getting away, leaving your home, but to go where? It's true you work, but you don't earn that much, sure you put some money aside, but you could never afford rent, not yet. Also because you haven't worked for many months. You could go to your friends, but for how long? You don't want to be a burden to either sweet Kristen or feisty Gina or that meddlesome Helen, you couldn't stand the look in their eyes of someone who can't wait to have their freedom back.

"Excuse me can I have this coffee!" a customer blurts out rolling his eyes and shaking his head "These kids today!" he adds in an exasperated tone.

"Yes." you say. Today, all these thoughts only make you go in slow motion or get your order wrong.

The customer finally leaves. It's almost 1 p.m. therefore not many people come anymore, and so you have the luxury of sitting mournfully on one of the bar stools. You look at the incoming e-mails, hoping to find the e-mail sent for that job as an assistant librarian, but there is nothing but e-mails containing advertisements or requests for shipments of supposed packages. You block the phone.

Joel is out of town again, apparently there is some new construction to be completed, he told you about this other job that will take him out for about three weeks, then come back and then leave again. He has told you he will be back a few days just for you, and that can only please you. You are not a couple it's true, but he makes you feel as important as if you were his other half and you like the idea of being someone's other half, the idea of being his other half makes your heart beat fast for joy. Since he showed you how to touch yourself, you do it often. When your mother is away of course, you tremble at the idea that she might find you with a hand in your folds pleasuring yourself and moaning the name of a man she knows is your music teacher only. You never would have believed that day almost three months ago, when you first met each other on Tommy's doorstep, that he would become so important, that slowly he would become a fixed thought in your days. You love him, very much. That's for sure. If you thought so that day in his parents' cabin, today you are certain. You don't want and cannot do without him. At the same time, however, you feel guilty toward Jack; it's true you are not often seeing each other, but you call each other every night and often write to each other. You are very confused about what you should do and how you should behave toward both of them, but you know that sooner or later you will have to choose.

Jack, that day, gives you a surprise and picks you up outside at the bar. He greets you with a bouquet of red roses and a big smile. He kisses you tenderly on the lips and then wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"How was your day?" he asks you.

"Fine." you reply, smiling at him, "And yours? Still in the library?"

"Yes, but now I've come to pick you up to take you out to dinner," he replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You look at him blinking, looking puzzled. It's a gesture Joel always makes. You swallow.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks you, noticing your expression.

"N - no, sorry … it's just that I'm very tired. I hope this place is not too far away!" you exclaim, changing the subject by smiling at him.

He barely squeezes his hand on your shoulder "No, it's a block away. All calculated for my princess."

You smile at him. He also gives you nicknames. Can life be even more unfair?

"Are you okay?" he asks once you get into the car, "You look a little absent-minded. If you don't want, we can go to my place or yours, order a pizza, lie down on the couch, and if you want I can give you a massage." he proposes.

You look at him, "You are so sweet. No, dinner is fine," you say rejecting his proposal unable not to feel guilty. He's so sweet, he's attentive, he loves you, he's handsome, but you never went further with him, you never wanted to see him in secluded places. He'd like to, in fact he pushes to see you at his home too, but you always declined. You don't want to.

"Do you know how many exams are now left until the end of my studies?" he asks you, starting the engine and moving away from there.

"No."

"Only six. Do you understand? S i x. Six!" he exclaims happily, the smile lighting up his face making it even more beautiful.

You can't help but smile, "I'm so happy for you."

Jack has a reservation at a very nice, upscale little place, you've heard great things about it from some of the customers at the bar, but until that moment you had never been there. At the entrance there's a very small flight of stairs with tanks-aquariums filled with fish, lobsters and crabs on either side. A little later two waiters greet you with a big smile as they escort you to your table, which is in a dimly lit room. You take a seat and then enthusiastically look around: all the tables have two seats, there is a central sea-colored blue runner, soft pillows with two starfish on each chair alternating with others that are completely blue and still others with little drawings of seahorses on them.

"It's beautiful here," you say looking at him dreamily.

"For my princess this and more," he replies, smiling at you.

You smile and lower your gaze.

"Please." a young waitress says bringing you menus.

You thank her and then she leaves. You decide to get a seafood appetizer and an entrée.

"You know, Jack maybe there's something about me you don't know," you tell him.

"Tell me." he replies in curiosity, laying his phone down next to his plate.

"I like to write." you decide to confess to him hoping he understands how important it is to you.

He smiles "To do what?"

"What do you mean?" you ask him wrinkling your forehead.

"Why do you write? What do you plan to do with it?"

You don't know what to answer suddenly, you have all the words and reasons on the tip of your tongue, but in this moment everything freezes inside you. You seem to hear your mother's words again when she found out that you had enrolled in a writing class and had your own computer on which to write your stories.

"Don't get me wrong, it's great to write, but if you don't take course after course after course, if you don't have specific preparation," he says waving his hands as he speaks, "you're just wasting your eyesight and risking carpal tunnel before you're 35, honey." he concludes with an annoyed smirk.

He has offended you. You feel offended. You look down feeling your eyes tingle, suddenly wanting to run away and tell him to go to hell, not to say those words to you.

"Think about serious things, for example you told me you are waiting for an e-mail as an assistant librarian, now that's an important thing. So you quit that degrading job of yours as a bartender." he comments using an abrasive tone that hurts you.

"That degrading job, as you call it, is who I am, it's part of me." you say using a firm tone even though you feel deeply hurt "Frankly, I can't understand how you can be sweet and then be such a jerk at other times." you add, only then realizing that you're trembling.

"Come on, princess, I'm only talking like this because I know you can have so much more and you deserve better," he says, spreading his arms wide as if to say he wasn't saying anything bad after all.

"Jack, you are studying psychology." you retort feeling your cheeks on fire "Yet you are saying so many horrible things."

"But what's my study got to do with it now?" he asks you with an annoyed air "If you want to quit your bartending job fine, otherwise it's okay. I'm not imposing anything on you, that's all right." he says looking at you almost offended "Excuse me bring us the bill!" he adds turning to a waiter.

You don't talk anymore and honestly better that way. You have nothing more to say to each other. He leaves you in front of the house, you get out of the car without saying goodbye without looking at him and leaving the flowers in his car.

You are mad about what he said to you, at the tone he used, almost as if he from his seat could not bear to see the girl he hangs out with dedicated in doing such a normal job or devoted to activities he says are so unsuitable for you.

"I'm home," you say as you enter and slip off your shoes. When you are in the kitchen, you find a small post-it note "Out with some friends, see you at 11:30."

You drop into a kitchen chair looking despondent, totally despondent. The more time passes, the more you notice the differences with Jack, you close your eyes and think you were a fool for believing he wanted you despite your social, cultural disparity. It saves your phone from a total meltdown. It's Joel.

"Hey babe, 's me," his tone of voice is firm, confident, but happy.

"Hi." you say without any enthusiasm.

"Did something happen?" he asks you, immediately hearing the tone of your voice cracked.

"No, it's okay." you strive to maintain a normal tone of voice.

"Doesn't sound like that to me." he replies.

"Don't worry." you say again, but this time your voice trembles a little and you know that you haven't convinced him and that this time - unlike other times - he will insist.

"Will ya tell me what's going on?" he insists.

"Oh, Joel…" you tell him everything and finally you break down, you never wanted to confide this deep discomfort of yours to him over the phone, but you can't take it anymore just cashing in, you can't take it anymore. It's not fair for you to feel this way. You know he can't do anything given the distance, but you wanted to talk to someone who would really listen to you and not judge you like everyone else does.

"If I could, I would come and get ya right away." he says as you try to control your breathing and strain to control your voice so that you can be heard and understood on the phone "Look, I'll do my best to come to ya in two days, okay?" his tone of voice is concerned and you are really sorry about that. You want to be strong, don't make him worry, but you're exploding.

No, you don't have to do this for me, you want to tell him, but you find yourself saying, "Yes, please, Joel, I feel like everything is falling apart and the only good thing I have is you," you confess to him.

You hear him sigh heavily, "Please don't say that. Listen to my voice, okay, honey?"

"Yes."

"Breathe deeply with me. Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale." he tells you, you swallow slowly feeling your heartbeat slow down to its normal beat "Now go to the bathroom and rinse your face, I'll stay with ya." he says trying to calm you down.

You do as he told you by feeling guilty for having this breakdown with Joel. Not because it's him, but because for him you would wanted to be different, a grown-up and instead you proved yourself immature and foolish once again.

"What's up, baby?" he asks you after a few minutes of total silence from both of you "I'm sorry ya have to go through this alone." he continues "Why don't ya vent to those friends of yours, maybe they can give ya some advices." he adds.

"That's better now, Joel. You don't have to. I already know what they'd say to me." you say, opening the window facing the street a bit "They'd say stop letting your mother demean you and leave Jack."

"If they make ya feel that way…" he comments "Forgive me, I know your mother is important to ya however I think there have to be limits. She can't make ya feel that way, not at the age of 30! About that other guy… well, I don't know what ya see in him…" he sighs heavily "No, forget 'bout it, I didn't say anything. I'm just sorry you're feeling so sorry for someone who doesn't deserve your torment." he adds.

"I wish you were here now," you tell him deglutinating feeling suddenly pathetic.

"Forty-eight hours and I'll be there, promise." he replies.

"Joel, if it's a problem for you though, I don't want to be a burden or put you in trouble!" you exclaim, your tone of voice slowly becoming less shaky and calmer.

"Babe," he interrupts you, "don't say that. For me to see ya is just a joy. I wish I could be there with ya and hold ya close to me." his deep tone of voice conveys confidence, tranquility.

"Joel, I…" you breathe heavily "sorry, maybe I shouldn't have thrown my fears, my anguish at you, but you are the only one who listens to me, who really cares for me, who doesn't judge me and indeed sometimes even speaks against his best interest." you say going to your room and throwing yourself on the bed, you sigh "I just wish I could be worthy of you. To be strong and…"

"Worthy of me? Hey, hey, babe, ya don't have to think about these things at all. I told ya once before, you only hurt yourself." you hear him sigh "I thought about ya today." he adds "A lot. My mind was somewhere else."

You smile with your eyes closed. "And what were you thinking 'bout me?"

"I was thinking about your eyes, your incredible sweetness despite the fact that life has been so hard on you. I admire ya." you hear him smile, or so it seems from his tone of voice.

"Really?" hearing Joel's opinion of you makes you feel special and it's the first time in the span of a day when someone's words make you feel good.

"Yes. God, how I wish I could be with ya there in that bed and hold you to my chest! That'd be two of us being peaceful." he confesses to you in a slightly cracked tone of voice.

"Why? What's going on?" you ask him wrinkling your forehead and sitting in the middle of the bed.

"Nothing." he only replies, but his tone of voice is no nothing. You know him a little by now, though he stubbornly keeps everything to himself. It's like he has put up a wall so thick between him and the world that talking about it seems impossible for him. You wish you could figure out what it is, whether there is a way to break it down, whether it has something to do with his daughter or his wife or both!

"Joel, please talk to me," you beg him, you hate not being able to help those who help you, you hate not knowing how. Joel has always been there for you, held you, reassured you, helped you come out of that subservient state you were living in, is helping you understand who you are. You'd like to do the same for him.

"Babe, don't distress yourself, just bad thoughts," he tells you.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" you invite him.

"No." he replies dryly, "Sorry. Just used to keeping it all inside. 'S not because of ya, honey." he adds "I trust ya, but I can't talk about it."

You nod, unable, however, to help but feel disappointed at this persistent closure on his part. On the one hand, however, you tell yourself that he probably just needs time. You wonder again how much he has had to suffer for being so secretive, you wonder how terrible his experience has been.

"Please don't be hurt," he adds, not hearing your response.

"Yes, yes, of course. Don't worry." you say quickly, maybe too much, who knows maybe he sensed that everything is not all right as you just told him, but you can't help it.

"Will I see ya in two days?" he asks you in an uncertain tone, as if his lack of openness to you will prejudice your next meeting.

"Sure." you answer him, "I look forward to seeing you." you add, reassuring him immediately.

The next evening at dinner, your mother peers at you for a long time, you look at her, but say nothing. You eat in silence.

When you clear the table and wash the dishes, your mother finally speaks. "Mrs. Bixby stopped me this morning to give me my mail and she also told me something interesting," your mother begins, using a strange tone.

You look at her, "Such as?"

"She told me she saw you in an SUV with some…strange guy."

You swallow, but without showing your face.

Mrs. Bixby is the usual busybody who as soon as she notices something different or peculiar she has to immediately report it. In fact, she must unfortunately have seen you with Joel and immediately told your mother about it.

"What kind?" you ask, playing dumb.

"A man, an adult. Definitely older than you." she is silent for a moment "You have nothing to tell me? You know, I don't want you getting into strangers' cars or hanging out with guys that much older than you."

You shrug your shoulders, "Mom, I'm not dating anyone, don't worry."

Lie, but what choice do you have?

Since your mother started listening to that man's words during her prayer groups, she left that man with whom she was having an affair, she goes to confession every day and demands you do the same. You discussed this point at length as well, but your mother became rigid on this position and won't listen to reason. Sometimes you accommodate her, but other times you respond with categorical no's that lead to more arguments between you.

"Then why did Mrs. Bixby tell me you two seemed very close?" your mother insists.

Your stomach contracts in a painful grip, "Don't know," you only reply.

"Missy, look me in the eye," your mother says in a firm tone.

You turn around and she stands there in the doorway with her hands on her hips, her icy gaze fixed on you. When she does that, it scares you.

"Tell me the truth," she insists again.

"I see no one," you reply.

"I don't believe you, child," she says in an icy tone.

You shrug your shoulders, "I can't help with," you dare to say.

"Who was the man you hugged in front of our front door?" she asks you. Shit, but she wasn't there, but how…?

Your expression must have changed because your mother's expression changes as well, she reaches over and grabs you by your wrist with such violence that you are surprised and let a plate slip from your hands that crashes at your feet, she yanks you with a force you didn't even think she had and starts insulting you and giving you epithets you didn't even think she knew or had ever dared to address to you, she drags you to your room and then locks you in.

"MOM?! MOM?! MOM OPEN!" you scream, clapping your palms against the door, your mother no longer responding. You stand there, your face pressed against the door and your eyes filled with tears.

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mrswolffs-blog · 8 months

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Can I request a Toto Wolff x Black reader in which he attends his girlfriend's university graduation(she got her bachelors, Doctorate or PHD). I can imagine that he spoils her for achieving valdictorian and he's the most proud of her and happy he got to share in that joy with her.

Love you lots sis

We’re Proud: Toto Wolff x Black!Reader

If anyone had told Y/n that she would’ve been successful on her journey to being a doctor, she probably would’ve laughed at them out of disappointment for their delusions. Y/n L/n is a 29 years old med student of the Harvard University who made one decision that changed her life forever.

Y/n was 26 years old at the time when she went out it’s her coarse mates to celebrate making it through another year without any major mistakes, only for her to wake up in the bed of the billionaire Toto Wolff the next morning. A few months later, she found herself back in his house, wailing as she revealed the problem being that she was pregnant. Toto was surprised a bit, seeming of his age and fertility issues yet he was happy and accepted to stay full heartedly.

Toto supported and helped her with her studies during her pregnancy and took the baby with him to work so she could focus on her studies after their baby boy was born. Overtime the two had bonded and became a couple.

Today was the day that made Y/n the happiest besides creating her family, as she stood on stage collecting her white coat that officially made her a doctor. Tears in her eyes as she spotted her boyfriend and son clapping and cheering her on in the audience.

Y/n was taken by surprise as her significant other made his way up onto the stage with a microphone in hand. Toto came to a stop smiling down at her as he started to speak. “Good afternoon everyone, you may know me as professor Wolff is as the team principal for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 team. The beautiful lady right here is my girlfriend and this little guy in my arm is our son Jayden. Y/n, I know that the circumstances in which we met wasn’t ideal but we managed to make it work. I watched and supported you as you pushed through; therefore the sleepless nights, rainy days, the piles of studies were all worth it as I now get to say congratulations sweetheart. I’ve always believed in you and I want you to know that our son and I are proud of you.” The speech had everyone in tears at the intimate moment being witnessed on stage.

An interruption was made as the toddler being held by his father placed his head closer to the microphone and said “Congratulations mamma, I love you” This caused Y/n to cry even harder at the note that her baby boy acknowledged her hard work. “I wasn’t finished just yet as I have one request” Toto said which had everyone on the edge of their seats and Y/n very much confused where this was headed. “I have been analysing my thoughts for a while… I bought this three months after finding out we were expecting as I knew then that I had fallen in love with you and that you were the one… I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare you off so I stayed quiet and now I think it’s the right time to ask the question. Y/n L/n, would you please make me the happiest man alive in this moment and say to marrying me?” Toto asked going down into his knees as Y/n sobbed, nodding her head yes. Everyone cheered and celebrated as the graduation came to an end and everyone went home. Y/n sighed in contentment at the lovely family she had managed to create, knowing that no matter what she had a family that would always proudly support her.

#toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff angst #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff x y/n

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killerpancakeburger · 8 months

Text

Peace of mind // Miguel O'Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x female reader

Summary: After a long day of tending to the multiverse, Miguel goes to you for some comfort.

Warnings: swearing.

Tags : fluff. That's it.

Words: 733.

A/N: Inspired by @/the-cat-and-the-birdie's post about Miguel's cooking.

You blindly reach inside the bag of chips on your desk without taking your eyes off your computer screen, grab one and eat it. Tonight’s your weekly online meeting with your friends on your favourite online game. You can’t afford to miss a single kill. You have your noise cancelling headphones on and are completely occupied by the things your companions are yelling are at each other and where your aim is.

It’s probably why, despite your usually sharp instincts, you don’t hear the interdimensional portal who opens in your living room. You don’t notice the imposing – yet looking like he’s buckling under an invisible weight – man in a faintly glowing suit who crosses it. You don’t spot him either when he gets behind you.

However you certainly can’t ignore his presence when he bends over your chair, closes his arms around you and lets his forehead fall on your shoulder.

“FUCK! Miguel! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!” you shout in shock.

He mumbles something unintelligible, his mouth pressed to your back. Your surprise has been clearly noticed by your friends as they don’t miss the opportunity to tease you for it. You grumble and mute your microphone.

You ruffle Miguel’s hair, taking the opportunity to mess it up a bit.

“So? Did something happen?”

He sighs and his warm breath tickles your skin.

“Can you please…?” He starts, but never finishes.

“Uh-Uh?”

You’re still playing your game, but way more casually, and even though you’re pretending to still be busy, you’re actually taking in Miguel’s every word.

“You know…”

“No, I don’t. Still can’t read your thoughts.”

“Urgh.”

There’s a part of you that finds this way of speech endearing but there’s an even bigger part of you that enjoys making Miguel works for it.

“…lay down with me for a bit?”

You pat his head in congratulations.

“There we go! Knew you could do it!”

“Stop it.”

He grunts. You turn your mic back on.

“Alright, game’s over for today. See you later”, you announce before logging off and taking off your headphone.

“Can you have a look at the code I wrote for Gizmo n° 564 before we do that?” you ask.

You pull up said code on your screen. Miguel doesn’t raise his head.

“It’s great”, he says.

“You didn’t even look at it”, you retort, slightly annoyed.

“I don’t need to.” He replies with that unsufferable indubitable arrogance of his.

“Oh really now?”

Your voice is dripping with sarcasm.

“You made it so it’s good.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help being moved.

“I think I prefer when you’re brutally honest.” You mumble to yourself. “Did you eat today?”

His stomach grumbles loud enough for both of you to hear, effectively stopping him from bullshitting you. You chuckle.

“Should I order food?”

He grunts something that you know means no.

“Oh so you want my cooking? I’m so flattered”, you laugh, the both of you pertinently knowing that while he’s great at cooking, you… are not.

He finally gets up.

“Just do as I say.”

You get up, give him the chips from your desk, and head to the kitchen. Since your relationship with Miguel got more serious, aka him crashing at your place whenever he felt like it, there is always tortillas, sour cream and salsa verde in your fridge. You stop halfway realizing Miguel isn’t following and remember he moves like a zombie in this kind of situation, the situation being “I just spent 24 hours non-stop monitoring the multiverse without eating nor sleeping so now I am on the cusp of a breakdown”. You turn back to grab his hand and bring him with you.

He leans against the counter as you take out of the fridge and cupboards what you need. You put on some music and make conversation as you tackle your tasks. Once you’re both fed, you go lay down with him on your bed. You hug him against your chest, delicately stroking his hair. He closes his eyes and looks relaxed for the first time since he arrived. You feel his chest raising and decreasing and listen to his steady breathing while contemplating your ceiling. When you know for certain that he’s deeply asleep, you get up as discreetly as you can, leave a kiss on his forehead and go back to your nightly occupations.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #miguel ohara fanfiction #atsv fanfiction #atsv fic #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fluff #mild miguel #aka not a sex beast nor a latino lover #mine

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dragon-ascent · 1 year

Text

Linguistic Divide

Zhongli sometimes has a bit of trouble understanding your way of speech.

★彡basically when a modern-day person like you now lives in teyvat, colloquialisms are bound to confound. poor zhongli. (he still loves you)

“Gosh, Zhongli,” you breathe, eyeing your husband as he gets ready for the day, “you really are the drippiest man in all of Teyvat.”

At this, Zhongli wipes his upper lip, confused. “My nose doesn’t appear to be dripping, darling.”

You giggle, shaking your head and adjusting his tie. “Ah, you. You’re so adorable.”

“I should be saying that about you,” he responds with a smile, taking one of your hands and kissing it tenderly. “Will you be heading out soon for your commissions?”

“Mm, not quite, I got a rather interesting letter from one of my clients at the Guild. He decided my assistance yesterday wasn’t up to par, even though it’s thanks to me that he got out of it alive, and now I’m living rent-free in his head.”

It never occurred to Zhongli that people had to pay rent to be able to harbor thoughts about others, but he supposed there were still many things about humanity he had yet to discover. “I see. And what does his letter say, my love?”

“Nothing but him being salty as hell. It’s literally all salt.”

“Oh, what an unagreeable man,” Zhongli mutters with a frown, scorning this person for putting plain salt in an envelope.

Shrugging, you add with a snort, “It’s fine, his response is sending me.”

“Oh!” Zhongli, instead of laughing along with you, merely softens his gaze sadly. “Sending you where, my love?”

“Sorry?” You tilt your head, frowning.

Pulling you closer, your poor unsuspecting husband hugs you tightly. “Why did you not inform me of this earlier? Where is this man sending you? Not too far, I hope? You will be back soon, yes? And how much is he paying?”

Giggling, you shake your head. “Oh, my silly man. I meant that his response was very entertaining!”

Zhongli’s lips part in realisation. “Ah...yes, another one of your colloquialisms, I take it?”

“Yes sir.” You kiss him and sit down. “Anyway, I’ll have to come up with a suitable clapback,” you say, starting to pen a response. Your poor husband stands around and watches, wondering how exactly applause is meant to serve as a good rebuttal. But if that man had put salt in the letter, then anything was possible, he thinks. He watches as you scribble a response letter to the client, standing up when it’s finished. “I’ll send this out later today. Chances are I could also run into him at the Guild, and shit could hit the fan.”

“I pray that no feces make contact with anything, darling,” Zhongli offers helpfully, as he gathers his work-things and smoothens his outfit. “As for me, I must be off now - do take care, my dear, and if you run into any trouble, come see me at once.” He stands near the door and holds his arms out to you.

You hug your husband tight, and kiss him on the cheek. “Bye bye, I love you! By the time you get back, I’ll probably have lots of tea to spill!”

“Oh dear!” After Zhongli kisses you back and heads out to work, he makes a mental reminder to buy a new mop to clean up all the soon-to-be spilled tea with.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #zhongli x you #fluff #drabble

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partyanimal167 · 7 months

Text

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

#atsv #migeul o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman au #miguel x reader #modern au #spicy audio #fem reader #atsv fanfiction #mine #partyanimal167 #college au #miguel smut

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effloradox · 11 months

Text

cornelia street; robert m. renfield.

track nine of LOVER

pairing: robert renfield x f!reader

synopsis: your soulmate’s first words to you are written on your wrist

word count: 3.2k

The modern world was confusing. Renfield had watched the world change rapidly around him during his century as Dracula’s familiar and the way humans had changed never failed to surprise him. It had made life more difficult for him, Dracula’s need for good quality blood was harder to fulfil in a world where the influence of the church was increasingly slipping and sour blood was more common than ever before. His master didn’t understand that, of course, and just berated his familiar for doing such a poor job in attending to his needs.

Finding DRAAG had been a good twist of fate. New Orleans wasn’t quite what he’d expected, slightly more lawless than he’d initially assumed, but it had plenty of derelict buildings that he could move Dracula between if they were to be discovered and people went missing frequently enough that taking victims to his master wasn't going to alert too much suspicion. The group had become something of a lifeline for him after a few weeks in the city. He’d followed Bob inside after thinking he would make a good victim, and five weeks later he was still coming to the group. Everyone was so desperately sad, and a part of Renfield had identified with their stories and that kept him coming back.

It was especially hard listening to the people who had realised they were codependent with their soulmate. To watch them lament that this was meant to be the perfect person for them and they had fallen into destructive patterns with them had hit a sore spot somewhere deep inside Renfield. He’d never met his soulmate, his marriage to his late wife had been one of convenience rather than based on a soul bond, and it didn’t mean he loved her any less but his heart had always ached that he’d probably never meet his soulmate. Him and his master had moved so frequently that he was sure his soulmate had passed him by like ships in the night, or day really since he and his master did all their travelling by night.

If his master had ever noticed him absentmindedly tracing his words, he had never commented on it. His master didn’t have any words, Renfield had checked one time when he’d been tending to his needs, and he was sure if he ever brought up being lonely his master would begin another speech about how he didn’t need a soulmate, that they had each other and that humans were beneath them. The lectures had been focused solely on bringing his master back to full power recently but they had been happening more frequently, like tonight for instance. He’d been ready to go to the DRAAG meeting when Dracula had started another lecture about having to consume sour blood again and wanting Renfield to find him some nuns to eat.

He’d arrived late to this meeting, nervously babbling out an apology to Mark and the others as he took a seat in the back circle. It had taken him a few minutes to realise that there was a new face sitting with the group. She was sitting next to Carol, and the two seemed to know each other based on how they’d moved their chairs to be closer together. They were whispering quietly to each other, not quite loud enough to be audible but enough that he knew they were doing so. He tried not to stare, but there was something about Carol’s friend that had entranced him. He began to trace his words again, a nervous habit he’d developed over the years, only stopping when he saw Mark take notice. He waited for Lawrence to finish his share before looking to Renfield.

“Renfield, do you want to share today?”

“No, I’m good I think.” Mark sighed lightly at the denial, clearly having expected it.

“You’ve been coming here for a few weeks now, and you don’t have to say anything, but you’re always welcome to share. This is a safe space for you to speak your truth.”

“I suppose so.” Mark and the rest of the group were quiet for a moment, clearly waiting for another round of pushback from Renfield but when he gave none, Mark proceeded in a gentle tone.

“Is it your soulmate?”

“No, I haven't actually met them yet.” There were a few sympathetic noises from various people sitting in the circle. If they felt bad that a man who looked to be in his thirties hadn’t met his soulmate, he didn’t want to think about how they’d react if they knew he was almost one hundred years old and hadn’t met them. They’d probably refer him for a psychological evaluation if he said that part out loud though; whilst he didn’t exactly take pride in his appearance, Dracula’s ability to stop his body ageing meant he hadn’t physically aged for almost as long as he’d known the Count.

“And do you think the person you’re in a codependent relationship with is taking advantage of that?”

“Honestly? No. My boss he, uh, he’s blank. I don’t think he particularly minds but that also means that he doesn’t care about me and finding my soulmate.” Being blank wasn’t particularly common, and it always invoked a specific sympathy from everyone who found out. The idea that you were a person without another half in a society where that was the norm always tended to put people on edge. Renfield had always been somewhat relieved that Dracula didn’t have a soulmate, the idea of having another vampire to tend to the needs of and transport around seemed like much more hassle than he cared to entertain. One Lord of Darkness was more than enough, thank you very much.

“That must be hard for him, but that doesn't mean that you have to put off your chances of happiness just because he’s blank. Has he ever taken any interest or even acknowledged that you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”

“I don’t think it’s even occurred to him to be honest. I think if anything he’s probably glad, I think it would be fair to say that meeting my soulmate may influence my ability to do my job the way he expects me to.”

“So what would happen, hypothetically speaking, if you were to seek out your soulmate?” The question drew only a blank in Renfield’s mind, and he noticed the flicker of pity that passed over Mark’s face when he struggled to imagine a world where he prioritised himself rather than his boss.

“What do you mean?”

“If you went off and tried to find your soulmate, what would happen?”

“I couldn’t leave my boss for that long.”

“Well, why not?”

“He has this medical condition you see, it means he can’t go out in the daytime, or much at all. If I’m not there to help him, well it doesn’t bear thinking about really.”

“Oh so you’re like a carer then?” Renfield wasn’t sure who spoke up, but it occurred to him that his relationship with his master would sound very strange if he disagreed with the interjection.

“I suppose you could put it like that.”

“I understand that it’s more complex when there are medical needs involved but listen to me Renfield, you cannot put your entire life on hold for someone else. You are important, you have value, and you are more than what your boss seems to see you as.” Renfield shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wringing his hands together. It was much easier attending the meetings when the spotlight wasn’t on him. He stayed quiet in the hopes that someone would interrupt his share but no one came to his rescue and he was left scrambling for something to say next.

“I guess it’s just hard because if he doesn’t have me then there’s no one else who could take care of him. After working for him for so long it wouldn’t feel right to just leave him.” Mark seemed to notice that he was getting more uncomfortable and mercifully decided to open the discussion back to the rest of the group by talking about the sense of duty that came with being codependent before announcing that the meeting was over. Renfield stayed in his seat as most of the group migrated towards the exit. A few people were still inside when he finally stood and went over to the refreshment table, his throat aching for a glass of water. He made quick work of the glass and stood for a moment, cursing himself for speaking ill of his master. He was so in his head that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind him until the person spoke.

“I like what you said about your boss.” The world seemed to shift on his axis as he heard the soft voice behind him speak. He turned around and saw the shy smile you were sporting, completely unaware that you had just turned his world upside down in a single sentence. You'd spoken his words.

His words had always confused him slightly, and that had only grown when he's become Dracula's familiar. He'd never been able to imagine a scenario when he'd be freely talking to people about his master, but this made perfect sense in a weird way. He realised that he hadn't spoken yet, and he probably looked like a deer in the headlights and it took him a few beats to come up with a response.

“It’s you.” He watched as it dawned on you what had just occurred between the two of you. The smile that grew on your face made you look truly radiant, like an angel sent directly from above. It felt like he was being saved and being damned all at once and any and all trepidation he’s had about this moment vanished from his mind as he took you in.

“Hey.” The word is soft, you’re clearly still trying to process what’s just happened after all, but it feels like it echoes in his mind, a pleasant change from the way his master’s voice booms through his skull when he deems it fit to communicate like that.

“Hello.”

“I’m, uh, I’m (Y/N).” You gesture to the name sticker on your jacket, and he smiles when he sees a small smiley face drawn next to your name.

“Robert. Robert Montague Renfield.” He holds out a hand to you, trying to hide the slight tremor, and when you take his hand it feels like a shock running through his body. It’s electrifying and relaxing all at once and it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s funny really, of all the places in the world I never expected it to be at a codependency anonymous group.” It occurred to Renfield that you hadn’t spoken at all during the meeting and he truly hopes you’re not here because of some awful person you can’t escape from. All his anxieties are put to rest when you reply though.

“I’m not codependent actually, I’m just here to support Carol. But, if you’d like help with your situation, I’d be more than happy to listen. Or if not, we can just grab a coffee, get to know each other?”

“I’d like that very much.” You beam at him before turning to the refreshment table and picking up one of the small business cards that had been scattered amongst the snacks. You grab the pen that lay next to the name tags and write something on the back of the card, handing it to him.

“I need to take Carol home but you should call me. We can go grab that coffee.”

“I will. Yes, definitely.” He watched as you turned to face Carol and the two of you made your way to the exit. You turned back to face him, giving him a small wave as you walked out into the cool night, and Renfield was left alone in the gymnasium. It was only then that it occurred to him that he had no plans for people to bring to Dracula to satisfy him tonight. He cursed himself lightly under his breath as he walked outside and began the walk back to the hospital. The closer he got the more anxious he became, and it was only when he passed the church that his luck seemed to change. He spotted a woman, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties, leaning against the wall and looking to be in rather bad shape. He’d been cautious upon approaching her in case she was with someone but when she drunkenly slurred out that her friends had ditched her, her fate was sealed. It hadn’t been difficult to overpower her, the chloroform in his pocket had done its job as quickly as ever and, with the aid of a bug, it had been easy to pull her into a bridal hold and walk the rest of the way back to the hospital.

Luck seems to remain on his side as he makes it the entire walk without spotting a single patrolling police car, and once he got to the hospital it was easy for him to drop the body onto one of the gurneys he always left near the entrance and then push that the rest of the way. He made it through the hospital without hearing his master until finally reaching the room his master spent most of his time residing in.

“Renfield! Where have you been? Where’s my dinner?”

“Right here, master!” He pushes the unconscious body off the gurney to the ground just shy of the makeshift throne his master was currently sitting in. Dracula didn’t look at all pleased by the offering, slowly rising to his feet. His recovery from their run-in with the vampire hunters had been a slow one, but his skin had finally started to grow back and, whilst he was revolting to look at, it meant he was nearly fully healed again.

“Is it a nun?”

“Um, well, no, but she was hanging around outside a church when I found her?” The answer seemed to satisfy his master enough for the vampire to start feeding from the body. It had been fairly easy for Renfield to become accustomed to the blood and gore that came with being a familiar but the sound of Dracula ravenously feeding on some soon-to-be corpse never failed to make him queasy.

“Not as sour as most of the other trash you’ve brought me. Bring me more like this one Renfield.”

“Yes master.” Renfield went about his usual tasks whilst his master fed; moving the depleted corpses to the pile he’d made a few rooms down from the main chamber of the hospital and trying to keep himself occupied until he could move the fresh body. It didn’t take long for Dracula to drain her fully, but his master’s mood seemed to shift when Renfield approached.

“You smell different, Renfield.”

“I’m sorry?” He watched as Dracula rose to his feet, shifting rapidly around him and coming to a stop just in front of him after a moment. Renfield’s eyes dropped to the floor automatically as he waited for his master to speak to him.

“You met your soulmate.” It wasn’t a question, Renfield realised, but an observation. It was all he could do to nod, questioning how on Earth his master could possibly know he’d met his soulmate from his smell.

“How did you-?”

“It changes the blood of a man, meeting his soulmate. Sweetens the blood, makes it sing.” Dracula’s voice lilted slightly at the mere idea and Renfield felt his heart drop. His chance of having a normal relationship with his soulmate seemed to be going out the window with every word his master spoke.

“Oh.”

“I do hope that this won’t change your fealty, Renfield. I would hate to have to…remove any distractions that come your way.” The hand on the back of his neck makes Renfield flinch, and he listens as Dracula chuckles deeply whilst tracing his carotid artery with one of his nails. He never presses deep enough to draw blood, but the warning is heavy in the air. He hates the way he quivers under his master's touch but after almost a century of knowing just how lethal Dracula’s clawed nails are, the reaction is uncontrollable.

“I, uh, of course not, master.”

“Good.” As Dracula slowly shuffled away from him, Renfield was left with the impression that this wasn’t the end of the discussion. He doesn’t move until Dracula tells him to leave, and it’s with a sigh of relief that he realises that the conversation is indeed over for now. He walks out of the main chamber, leaning against one of the walls after a brisk walk, and slides down until he’s resting on the floor. He’s not sure how long he spends sitting on the floor trying to quiet his mind and failing. The only thing that pulls him back to reality is when he slides his hand into one of his suit pockets and feels the business card with your number on it. He pulls his phone from his back pocket, tracing his fingers over your number on the business card in his other hand. He types your number in, toying with the idea of what he should send to you. He types multiple messages before trying something simpler and more to the point.

Hello, (Y/N). It’s Robert Renfield. Would you still be up for grabbing that coffee?

He presses send before he has time to debate whether it’s a good first message to his soulmate, and he locks his phone, letting it flop down onto his chest. He lets out a sigh, and closes his eyes. He only opens them when he feels his phone vibrate, and he looks down to see if you’ve responded.

Hi Robert! I’d love to, how does 9am sound?

The fact you responded so quickly makes him smile slightly, and it almost makes him forget about his master’s threat. Almost.

That sounds perfect.

Awesome, see you outside the gym? I know a great coffee shop nearby :)

I look forward to seeing you.

He shuts his phone off after sending the final message, letting his eyes close once again. He doesn’t have a bed here, hasn’t for a long time now, and he feels the edges of sleep start to close in on him. His last thought before falling asleep is that he needs to come up with a cover story for when you inevitably ask him about everything he shared at the codependency group because there’s no way you’ll believe that he’s a vampire’s familiar.

#my writing #lover #renfield x reader #Robert Renfield x reader #Robert Montague Renfield x reader #Renfield fan fiction #fem!reader

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wisteria-lodge · 4 months

Text

Sorting Gaston

Up until now, all the Disney villains in my little project been criminals, loners, weirdos, or some combination of all three. Gaston is notable for being none of those things. He is a popular community leader, extremely Establishment, always surrounded by people. He’s also our first explicitly sexist villain (“It’s not right for a woman to read. Soon she’ll start getting ideas and… thinking.”) Belle is, of course, disgusted by this. And that’s the problem. The question here is why has Belle specifically gotten under Gaston’s skin so badly that he has to marry her… when he probably could’ve married all three of his blonde groupies at the same time. Like... Belle isn’t THAT much more beautiful.

At first I thought it could be an insecurity thing… but... Gaston isn’t insecure. So I think it’s more ideological than that. Belle is a rebel who mocks and rejects Gaston's idea of an ideal community, and that is incredibly disturbing, and threatening to him. In kind of a twisted way, the best way to deal with this is to marry Belle and you know - slot her into the established system. Bring her in line. Gaston handles “crazy old Maurice” the same way, by getting corrupt authority to throw him in the insane asylum.

I separated this out from my other, goofier Disney villain sorting, because when talking about Gaston I really wanted to bring up Howard Ashman, the creative force behind the film, who died of AIDS before it was finished. And it’s easy to see some of his experience in the ‘monstrous,’ ‘unlovable,’ shunned Beast, and the rule-breaking “peculiar” Belle who just wants out. Ashman drops lyrics like “We don't like / What we don't understand / In fact it scares us” during Gaston’s villain song, and that’s some pretty real stuff. Andreas Deja, who designed and animated Gaston, is also gay, and I think it’s so interesting that Gaston’s design went from REALLY queer coded at the beginning of production.

To the much *straighter* macho outdoorsman we have today.

(also I want to throw in this amazing drawing I found on Andreas Deja’s website, where he’s shipping Gaston with another character he designed/animated.)

But I’m still slotting Gaston into my system here, and for all those reasons - the community, the Establishment - I want to say that he is a Badger primary villain, and goes hard with Badger primary dehumanization in the way he interacts with Maurice and the Beast. He’s also a Lion secondary. Round up the troops, give them a rousing speech, charge in at the head of the forces. “Surprise Wedding” is also a comically Lion secondary beat. It’s actually kind of fun that he is a Badger Lion, since that is typically the Hero sorting. That’s the point of Gaston. He looks good. He looks like the hero at first… and then you think about him for five seconds.

#gaston #beauty and the beast #disney stuff #howard ashman #andreas deja #shc #sortinghatchats

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captaincapsicle83 · 2 months

Text

Iron Man

The Avenger series, part 2

Tw: cursing, Tony not following directions

Previous Part

"Dude, you're like a million years old-"

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but I'm a billion! And your closer to zero. You're a baby. Added with the fact that I'm ten times as important as you-"

"Ten times zero is still zero."

"Not the point."

"I just wanna name it," you whined. Tony rolled his eyes, clearly baffled at your audacious manner.

"I picked an acronym before you were even born," He shakes his head, holding up the glasses frames in front of his face, not putting them on.

"Yeah? When?"

"September 21st, of..." He hesitated. "Of 19...93."

"Well, genuis, I was born in 1992-!"

"So me picking the name in the year of 1991 proves me right-!"

"You liar!" You exclaimed. "JARVIS, play back what Tony just said."

Before Tony can object, the ceiling emits his voice, "Of 19...93."

"JARVIS, you're being evicted," was Tony's response. "Pack your things. You're getting uploaded to a surf shop in Daytona Beach."

You laugh, taking the glasses from Tony and putting them into their case.

You were something of an accomplice to Tony's "Iron Man" shtick. You were what he called a "trainee," meaning you didn't fight anybody like Tony did. You practiced, though, and not just in a suit. You did end up giving Tony a black eye, Pepper freaking out over press stuff due to it.

"We can't send you in front of hundreds if people, or broadcast you to millions, if you looked like you run an underground fight club," Pepper exclaimed, pulling his head to the side with a grip on his chin. She looks at you all accusatory like, "You did this?"

"Cool right," you giggle, and pretend to bop Tony on the side of the face again. Peppers eyes roll before she stalks away, heels clicking.

"I'm her favorite," you say as she walks away.

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

☆☆☆

You sat on a gray couch, wearing pajamas and eating a bowl of cereal. A peanut butter reeses brand version of cocoa puffs. It tasted like heaven.

"Iron Man," Tony mumbled, reading a newspaper, standing behind you with Pepper. "Hey, that's kinda catchy."

"Thanks, I came up with it," you say, taking a bite of your cereal. Pepper was doing Tony's "makeup" since he had another bruise on his face, and also, the planned press conference scheduled for today was being broadcasted "everywhere."

Probably not in lesser fortunate countries, but you didn't mention that to Pepper. You wanted to stay the "favorite."

On the TV in front of you, the news was playing. You found the news to be exhausting, and quite morally wounding, but you were to lazy to find the remote and change the channel. You wished you could be watching literally anything else though. You had quite a liking for American children's shows. And Hannah Montana was on at this hour, maybe even SpongeBob.

Tony is given a speech, which he looks over as Pepper thanks Agent Coulson.

You wouldn't. The guy ate the last donut this morning, and he doesn't even live here.

As Pepper and Coulson walk out, you turn around in your seat to look at Tony.

"You aren't gonna read that, are you?" You say, crunching the last bites of your cereal.

"Of course I am, who do you take me for," He winks at you. "Now finish your cereal, and get dressed, we have ninety seconds before we have to be out there, and you look like a bum."

"I'm a squatter, it's the New York in me."

"The only 'New York' in you is Venice Pizza."

"And yet, I'm living in Iron Mans house rent free," you say, putting a false wistful look on your face, as Pepper is walking back into the room.

"He's not Iron Man," she shakes her head.

"Is so," you retaliate, walking away, tilting up your bowl to drink the milk out of it.

"You know, I'm starting to belive I'm not Iron Man," Tony says thoughtfully.

"You're not," Pepper scoffs. "And I'm starting to believe I'm raising two children. Y/n! You better come back out here dressed!"

☆☆☆

"And now, Mr. Stark will be making a statement," A man onstage says. You're on the sidelines with Pepper. You follow her lead, clapping when she does. Smiling when she does.

You were a star student. Have a star.

☆

You knew what was coming though. Oh boy, Pepper wasn't gonna be Happy. And, well, the head of security, who really was Happy, wasn't exactly gonna be a basket of roses himself.

But when was he ever?

"-To consider that I am a superhero."

Fuck up number one; they never said he was a superhero. You sucked in a breath, knowing the house of cards was about to fall.

As Tony stumbled over his words, a soldier whispered in his ear. Maybe something taboo, or maybe to read his cards. Guess the world will never know...

You have to bow your head, as you were already laughing. You felt Pepper smack you shoulder.

"The truth is..."

You pulled in another large breath, looking at Pepper to show you had composed yourself.

"I am Iron Man."

#marvel #avengers x reader #marvel mcu #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man #avengers au #the avengers #avenger reader

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

Text

I'd Give It All Up

Requested: Yes

Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is signing to Redbull and she’s Max’s girlfriend. On one race the reader is p1 but Charles cuts the reader’s rightful corner and sends her crashing into a wall, big time. She gets knocked unconscious and is not answering, the car is still running. Leclerc is apologizing through the radio big time as he gets out of the car to check up on the reader, turn off their car, get them out, etc … Max is worried but he still has to finish the race, as he’s p1 now. After the race Max cusses out a very sad and frustrated Leclerc and starts crying in the process as well because he’s so worried about the reader. The reader is fine in the end when she woke up and she thanks Leclerc for turning off her car and comforts Max and they do press together.

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Charles end up in an accident and Max has to face the fear of losing the woman he loves.

Warnings: Language, accident, mentions of death, medical bay, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3050

Authors note: Not going to lie, I absolutely got into my fears with this one. It must be unimaginable the fear when there is a bad crash. Hope everyone likes it and can’t wait to hear what you think.

_________

“Be careful out there you hear” Max gave you a stern look as you began putting your helmet on.

“When am I not careful?” you returned with a cheeky grin, earning you a knowing look, which you probably deserved considering how reckless you could be on the track, even worse so than the fiery dutchman.

Truth be told, everyone was terrified when you and Max were having a bad race, between the two of you, they weren’t sure who was worse, and when it came to you two competing against each other? Lord knows that was the worst. Although always healthy competition, it was a fierce one, made only the worse by your intimate knowledge of the other and how each drives.

“You take the fun out of everything Verstappen” you joked, as you climbed into your car.

“Not what you were saying last night” he barked out a laugh after as your crew shot both of you warning looks, hoping neither of you would take it further than it had already gone.

“Listen, can you hear me?” Horners voice filtered through into your ear, knowing he was probably going to give the same speech he does each race, Max getting the significantly worse version of it. For once, you were thankful you were treated slightly differently.

“Loud and clear boss” the smile never leaving your face, excitement bubbling up for the Monaco race, knowing how difficult it is, but loving it all the more for the skill you were required to have.

“Let’s keep this clean yeah, I need both those cars to cross the line with minimal damages, and ideally with a podium from both of you okay? Horner attempted a stern voice with you, and you could only imagine the flowery language Max had gotten in his speech.

“Of course sir, but you better tell Max that, you know he’s worse than me” you joked with your boss, definitely knowing you were probably a bit more reckless than your better half.

“Fat chance he’s worse than you” you were almost sure you heard a chuckle in his voice, “good luck, see you at the finish line” and with that, he had disappeared from your ear, and you were getting into race mode.

_____

“I cannot believe it, we have redbulls Y/n in P1 one, closely followed by Monaco’s home boy, Charles Leclerc, chasing the title for his home race, and both are quickly being caught up by Y/n’s own boyfriend, Max Verstappen, ladies and gentlemen, I know I speak for most viewers when I say I hope we see a redbull fight here today, because nothing provides greater entertainment than when these two lovebirds go at it on the track.”

“Oh no! It looks like the Ferrari tried to take the line! Y/n is into the wall! Charles and Y/n look like they are out of the race! That leaves Verstappen as P1, but this is definitely going to require a safety car and red flag!”

“Has she even moved in that car yet? It doesn’t look like it, that car is definitely still running”

“Is that Charles running over to her car? Wasn’t she able to turn her own car off?”

“Here come’s emergency services, hopefully all will be okay, we still have yet to see Y/n move and Charles is looking for a bit too frantic. Let’s hope she’s going to be alright”

_____

“Don’t stop driving Max, safety car is coming out” GP spoke into Max’s ear.

“Jesus, I told her to be careful” Max sighed as he began slowing down, having briefly witnessed the crash and not fully understating how bad it actually was. “What has she said happened, besides the swearing?” Max half chuckled, assuming you were using fairly colourful language by now.

“I’ll let you know as soon as we get word from her” GP was careful in the words he chooses, knowing how protective max was over you.

“What do you mean when you get word from her? Hasn’t she said anything yet?” Suddenly Max felt sick.

“Max, stay behind the safety car, it’s a red flag, you’ll be in the pits now” GP couldn’t have Max doing something stupid, costing them a penalty and truthfully, he couldn’t have him getting in the way of the ambulance that could potentially help you.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment the safety car slowly lead all the drivers back around, passing the accident between yourself and Charles. First Max saw Charles sitting on the back of the ambulance, shaking his head, refusing to take his eyes off of your car as the paramedics looked him over, and then Max saw you. He caught a glimpse between the curtains they put up to block the view of the cameras, of the paramedics gently lifting you out of the car, your head having to be supported by someone, and as he watched your arm drop limply, he had to fight every single instinct in him not to stop his car and rush over to you.

Next thing he knew he was shrieking, loud enough GP and Horner flinched as the noise in their ears, “IS SHE FUCKING OKAY?” Max was screaming into the headset.

“Is she alive?” the whisper was almost inaudible. Max wasn’t even sure he was prepared for the answer. He wouldn’t be able to survive.

Not if you didn’t.

_____

“Charles, are you okay?” Charles body was aching, and he felt stupid, he knew what he did was risky, but he had to try and take the gap didn’t he?

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little sore, sorry guys, that one was on me” Charles reassured his team as he began climbing out of his now wrecked car, glancing over towards you.

“Hey, do we know if Y/n is okay?” he was running over towards your car before he had even finished the sentence, noticing how you had yet to turn your car off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Charles was shouting to no one, “she isn’t moving” Charles suddenly was praying. He didn’t know what to do. You were his friend. Oh my god. You were his friend, and he was stupid.

And he might have just killed you.

“SHE ISN’T FUCKING MOVING”. Tears. Charles couldn’t see. He needed to focus. He shouldn’t touch you. He shouldn’t touch you. He could do more damage. The fucking tears keep getting in the way, “WHT THE FUCK DO I DO?” he lifted your visor, and your eyes were closed.

He was going to be sick.

“Charles, do nothing, paramedics are on their way” his race engineer tried to advise him, tried to get through to the frantic driver, suddenly all too aware of how young Charles truly was and the incredibly guilt he may have to carry for the rest of his life, because they advised him to take the gap.

Next minute he felt someone grabbing him, pulling him away from the accident, “Mr Leclerc, please stand back”

“She isn’t waking up!” Charles was screaming at the paramedics, suddenly everyone around him working significantly faster, curtains suddenly being placed around him, he was being hauled over to the ambulance and bodies were surrounding your limp one.

_____

“What have the medics said?” all Max could focus on was you. It was if it was tunnel vision and all he could focus on was you. P1 one be damned, Racing be damned if it meant he would never have to lose you.

“No news on Y/n yet, but Charles is okay and back in his garage-“ Horner began and truthfully Max couldn’t be arsed what Horner had to say from that point on and he began moving in the direction of the Ferrari Garages, Horner and GP attempting to stop him, Max shrugging them off without any effort, only one goal in mind.

“Charles!” Max shouted the second he had found his rival, in sport and subsequentially in life from this point on.

“Max, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” Next second Charles was sobbing, but Max couldn’t find it in himself to care, you could be dead, and it would be all Charles fault and if you were, then so was Max.

“She could be fucking dead” it felt like acid in his mouth saying it, “SHE COULD BE FUCKING DEAD” next minute he felt Charles racing suit wrapped between his fingers and he was centimetres away from his face, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT! YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING KILLED HER! FOR FUCKING WHAT!” his mouth was dry. He was going to be sick.

Tears.

Charles face was suddenly blurry.

Just the tears.

Anger? Fear? No, from them both.

Charles tried to speak, tried to get anything out, the lump in his throat preventing anything other than “I’m sorry” and sobs from coming out.

He knew that whatever Max did to him now was deserved, he wouldn’t be much different if someone had even looked at the love of his life with any sort of malice, let alone potentially killed them, and if you didn’t walk away from this crash, he might just beg Max to do something to him anyway.

A penance for his sins.

Suddenly Max and Charles were all too aware of the silence in the pits. Everyone having stopped to watch them. Not wanting to intervene, knowing the gravity of the situation.

That was until Max felt a hand on his shoulder, the other hand of Daniel, slowly prying his hands of Charles, slowly, not to aggravate Max any further, knowing the absolute fear that must be gripping him.

“Mate,” Max met Daniels eyes, albeit he was blurry, the tears still hadn’t stopped, “let go Max” Daniel was gentle, he could only imagine what Max was going through and truthfully, he tried not to imagine it, but if he was imagining even a fraction of what Max was feeling, then he needed to get Max away from Charles now.

“I’ll kill him Daniel, I swear” he spoke as if Charles wasn’t there, the man in question not being able to meet anyone’s eyes, watching his own tears drip onto the floor.

“Let’s go Max” finally Max had let go, Daniel had wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulders, pulling him away from Charles and the prying eyes of the cameras.

“Max, back in your car, she’s okay, race is going to start again soon.” Horner sternly told him. Wanting to be sympathetic but knowing he couldn’t distract max any more than he already was, he still had a race to win and if one of his cars was knocked out, then he needed to make sure the other got maximum points.

Max wanted to argue, he didn’t know how they were continuing this race, he didn’t think he could, but if you were okay, he was winning it for you.

_____

“I’ll take the fine, collect the trophy for me” Max shouted towards Horner getting out of his car and sprinting towards the medical bay, leaving no room for Horner to argue.

GP had informed him during the race that you had woken up in the medical bay and they were happy with the tests they had run, and Max felt the slightest bit of relief, knowing he would only feel it completely once he saw you were safe.

And then there you were, sitting up and smiling in the shitty little medical bed.

Max knew in that moment that he was screwed. He knew that he would give up absolutely every single thing for you, all you had to do was ask. You might not even have to ask; he might just do it anyway. Runway with you. Take all his money and just run away with you. Take you away and keep you safe from absolutely everything.

Then you looked at him and smiled that gorgeous smile of yours and he was moving over to the side of your bed, hands on either side of your face and forehead gently pressed against your own.

Max was sure this was the first time he had ever felt grounded in his entire life, and he was never letting you go again.

He was definitely running away with you.

“I love you” he whispered out, and then it was like he couldn’t stop, repeating how he loved you again and again, desperately needing you to know just how much, kissing you in between each reiteration of it, slipping into his native Dutch at someone, his brain going onto auto pilot, being able to think about nothing else other you in his hands right now and how he refused to let you go.

Oh, and about running away.

It was only after a moment that he had realized that you were reassuring him that you were right here, and you loved him too, your voice the only thing being about to get through to him finally.

You both stayed like that for the better part of five minutes, thankful that you were walking away from something that could have easily killed you. Eventually Max sat down next to you, as you cuddled up next to him, soaking each other up as much as you could.

“Is Charles okay” you finally asked, just as concerned for him, not sure how he had faired from the crash.

“For all intents and purposes, dead to us” you could feel Max tense up at the thought of Charles right now.

“Max, that’s not fair” you tried to reason with him, realistically knowing that while you were still sitting in the medical bay there was very little chance of doing that.

“He could have killed you Y/n” Max was not prepared to let this one go. There was no way he could ever forgive Charles for what he did to you.

“It’s the job Max and you know it. Every time either of us get into that car, we know we might not be getting out” Max knew it was the truth, but today it became real. Today he genuinely nearly lived his greatest fear.

“Speaking of, I think we should quit, run away together” Max decided to float the idea by you, it becoming more of a reality as the seconds passed by.

“Like you’d ever give up driving” you laughed, not believing Max would give up racing for anything, not even his own safety.

“For you, I’d give up everything” Max had never spoken more truthfully than he was now.

____

“Y/n, it’s good to see you at the press conference” one of the journalists directed towards you, genuinely thankful to see that you were okay, everyone was, no one ever wanting to see something bad happen out on track.

“Thank you, it’s good to be walking away from a crash like that” you smiled towards Max as you felt him squeeze your hand.

He had refused to let you go since he had gotten to the medical bay, helping you get dressed, helping you walk towards the conference room, even pulling your chair closer to his so he could hold your hand, the entire time trying to convince you to skip media, there was no way they were going to fine you for missing after that, but you wanted to show everyone that you were okay.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, would you mind if we asked what happened” Charles dropped his head, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“An occupational hazard, Charles and I were racing, he saw a gap, he tried to take it, as one does, and I tried to defend it, it just accumulated in a bit of a crash” you threw Charles a reassuring smile, wanting him to know you didn’t blame him, that you understood.

“And Charles-“ God he wasn’t ready for this “- what was going through your mind as you were rushing over to switch off her car?” He couldn’t answer this he was going to be sick.

“You turned off her car?” Max was leaning forwards, directing the question towards Charles, unaware that Charles had tried to help you.

“Of course, I noticed it was still running, got it turned off, thought her arm was trapped or something, only after did I realised she hadn’t moved yet” that same fear suddenly engulfed Charles again, “and then I thought I’d killed her” he was trying really hard to keep the tears away again, it was a fear and guilt unlike any other.

“It’s going to take a lot more than a little bump on the track to kill me” you tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to think back to what happened, knowing you’re probably going to have to see a therapist for this one, all of you are, “but seriously, Charles did what he could to help and at no point did anyone want this to happen. No one goes out there to hurt anyone else and we’re a family, we’re going to help where we can” you really wanted them to drop this topic, squeezing Max’s hand twice, secretly letting him know you wanted out of this topic.

“Exactly, and despite my own emotional outburst earlier, I know Charles is a good man and wouldn’t intentionally hurt Y/n, and honestly, mate, thank you for helping her where you could” Max directed that last bit towards Charles, Charles nodding in return, both as an apology and as a way to accept Max’s own, “Racing is a dangerous sport, and it is something we have to accept when we get out onto the track”.

“But with that being said though, it’s probably a good idea to let everyone know that Y/n and I will officially be retiring and running away” every other driver turned to you shocked, no one expecting this, the entire press conference descending into chaos.

“No, no, no” you tried to calm everyone down through your own laughs, smacking Max on the shoulder, shocked that he had thought this kind of joke was a good idea, knowing what it would do to everyone, “Please, no, calm down, we aren’t retiring” no one was listening, “Max, look what you’ve done” both of you laughing your heads off before Max pulled you closer to whisper in your ear,

“I told you, for you, I’d give up everything”

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canirove · 4 months

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Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 29

Author's note: And we've made it to the last chapter! 😞 Thank you very much to everyone who has read this story and for all the likes, reblogs and comments. They mean a lot! 💜 Especially since this story and June and Ben as a couple have become one of my favourites. Hope you like this chapter, and again, thank you very much for the support! 🫶🏻

Previous chapter

Masterlist

"I can't believe we've made it to the final. I still have to pinch myself!"

"Like this?" Ben said, squeezing June's butt cheek.

"Chilwell!" she laughed.

"You said you had been pinching yourself."

"It was in a manner of speaking, you idiot" she replied, twisting his nipple.

"Hey!" he complained. "Though that was welcomed."

"Does it turn you on when I pinch your nipple?" June smirked, moving to look him in the eyes.

"No. I mean, a bit… But no. That isn't what I meant."

"Then?"

"I have to pinch myself too because I can't believe this is real. Us being together" he said, caressing her cheek. "I still feel like any moment now I'm gonna wake up at the hospital after a crisis and that all this has been a dream. The best of my life, but just a dream."

"It isn't a dream, Chilwell. It is very real. This" she said, kissing his nose "is very real. And so is this" she continued, kissing both his cheeks. "And this" she whispered before leaving a soft kiss on his lips. "But if all that still feels like something from a dream, feel this" she said, taking his hand and putting it on her chest. "Feel the way my heart is beating. I had forgotten it was possible for it to go this fast for someone. Because of someone. I thought that after being broken in a million pieces, it would not be able to go back to what it used to be, that it could not be fixed, healed. Able to love again. And then you came into my life with your stupid facts and…"

"I love you, June" Ben interrupted her.

"I hadn't finished my speech, Chilwell" she replied, rolling her eyes. "But I lo…"

"Chilly, are you there?" Andrew said, knocking on his room's door.

"You've got to be kidding me" June groaned, resting her forehead on Ben's chest.

"Quite busy right now!" he replied, raising his voice so Andrew could hear him.

"Well, wrap it up! We have some last minute things to film."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. See you downstairs in five" Andrew said before leaving.

"Duty calls."

"Duty can go to hell" June said while hugging him as tight as she could.

"Just three more days, June. Three days and we will be lying in the sun on a tropical island, just the two of us, celebrating that you are a World Cup winner."

"That does sound like a dream" she chuckled. "But if we win, it won't be three days. Because we will have to fly back, then we will have all the celebrations, the official visits…"

"Ok, fine. A week. A week and we will be together without no one bothering us."

"That's more like it" she smiled. "Now go shower before Andrew comes back and kicks the door down. I should probably get going too, I want to do some yoga before dinner."

"Wasn't everything we've done enough for today's workout?" Ben smirked.

"For my cardio, yes. But I want to stretch and keep my flexibility."

"I like your flexibility."

"I know" June replied, matching his smile. "Now go."

"Yes, ma'am" he said, kissing her nose and making her giggle before leaving the bed.

The moment he walked into the bathroom and she was alone, June had to pinch herself. And this time it wasn't in a manner of speaking. Because this was real. Everything she felt for Ben, everything that was going on with her career after her injury, all this happiness… It was all real.

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"June, before you leave us, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for taking this trophy home, for the tournament every single one of you have given us, for how you've fought and made us enjoy watching football, but most importantly… Thank you for your hard work these past months. I know how tough it has been, that you've worked your ass off literally and figuratively to be here today. And it's all been because how much you love this sport and everyone involved. So thank you, June. Thank you."

"Aww, Andrew. Come here" she said, hugging him. "You've made me cry on live tv."

"Sorry" he chuckled. "But I've meant every word."

"I know" June smiled.

"Now whatever Chilly and I say is gonna sound stupid or worthless" Jacob laughed.

"It will" Ben chuckled, his eyes fixed on June. He was trying really hard to stay composed and not show his emotions too much. Again.

When she had scored he had gone crazy, screaming and clapping until his hands hurt. Andrew and Jacob had gone as mad as he had, which thankfully had made his reaction less odd. But standing there in front of a camera, and once everyone had calmed down a bit and it was just happy faces everywhere you looked, he couldn't let his feelings take over him. He couldn't just kiss June and tell her how proud he was of her and of everything she had achieved even if the whole country knew that they were together. At least not yet.

"Well, in that case, I think it's time we let June be free so she can keep celebrating with the girls" Andrew laughed.

"There is something I must do before I go, tho" she said.

"Oh, ok."

"Can you please hold this for us?" she asked Andrew, giving him her microphone and Ben's.

"Sure" he replied, not sure about what was going on.

"June…" Ben said. She was going to do something crazy. He could see it in her eyes, on the way she was looking at him.

"I love you too" she smiled before throwing herself at him, making him lose his balance a bit when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

She had done it. She had finally told Ben that she loved him, and she had done it in front of the whole world to see, no one interrupting her this time.

She was sure their kiss would be all over the internet in just a few minutes, that people who had never heard their names before would get to see it too. But she didn't care. Nothing else mattered. It was her and Ben, her lips on his.

"Ok… That was unexpected" Jacob said while June and Ben kept kissing.

"Was it?" Andrew chuckled, more cameras and people with phones starting to surround them, all of them wanting to immortalise the moment.

"You are fucking crazy, Maxwell" Ben laughed when they managed to stop kissing.

"It's your lips, Chilwell. They were made to be kissed I can't help myself."

"And what you said before kissing me?"

"What about it?"

"Did you mean it?"

"With every fiber in my body. I love you, Ben Chilwell."

"I love you too, June Maxwell" he smiled before kissing her again, more and more people surrounding them while Andrew and Jacob tried to protect them, to give them some privacy.

After so many years of being heartbroken, of thinking she would never be able to love again, June had found herself falling head over heels for someone with also a broken heart. Ben's was physically and hers was emotionally, but they had somehow healed the other.

It hadn't been easy, definitely a bumpy ride. But neither of them would change it for anything in the world.

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#ben chilwell #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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