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#ive been thinking about this all morning no all week no all year no my whole life
bisexuallsokka · 8 months
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zuko and sokka's emotions after the divorce paralleling how they felt about each other before they started dating.....the pining the yearning the heartache...convinced they can't be together....certain the other doesn't feel the same way at all (spoiler alert: he does).....slowly realizing the feelings are mutual but instead of this being comforting and leading to getting together it just makes them feel worse.....
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steampoweredskeleton · 5 months
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#delete later#did a good compromise today. my therapist will be proud. only minorly panicky now#and have been making my chainmail things and it makes me very happy#have started designing the arm bracers abd bought fabric glue for the material ill be using#probs gonna make it velcrow abd add decorative buckles so dont have to worry about flaps of material#have the shape sorted and am gonna experiment with foam and stuff#have a good idea pf how to attach thr chainmail to it. just how to make it all stiff enough that it keeps its shape#ive been using cardboard for a lot of things but i dont like using it for wearable stuff bc i worry about washing things#im a messy person i need to be able to wash things without it falling apart#i have a yoga mat that might be good. i would just need to figure oit how to set it in a certain position#i have a tube i can dry it over. it might be a douse in pva and dry over cellophaned tube sorta deal#the cape is going well. hood is finished. cloak itself needs to be sewed around tge bottom and the front edge hemmed#thrn its just attaching thrm and decorating#i have fake autumn leaves abd acorns and i want to sculpt some shelf mushrooms out of my super light clay#but idk if thats overkill. i mean its my costune so that doesbt matter i guess. im very proud of myself on this project and i love it#and i even nabaged to do sone work roday despite only being able to think about chainmail#legit spent entire morning making the main piece. needs lengthening but its looking good abd solid#OH ALSO I FUCKING CALLED THE DENTISTS. i havent been in four years bc of anxiety abd TODAY I CALLED A PLACE#REGISTERED THERE AND MADE AN APPOINTMENT FOR NEXT WEEK#i did SO WELL TODAY
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badass-sunshine · 6 months
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kyeomofhearts · 1 month
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Back For More | J.WW
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+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.
+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader
+ word count: 2.7k
+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)
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You were tired, very tired.
Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.
Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.
With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.
Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?
What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.
All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.
Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.
Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.
“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.
What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?
And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.
With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.
Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.
“Is there something on my face, birdy?”
You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”
Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.
Oh.
It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...
"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?
As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”
"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.
"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."
Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.
"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.
"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.
"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.
Which it did.
Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.
“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.
“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.
“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!
One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.
He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?
“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.
"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.
"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.
"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.
Or so you thought?
Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.
Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.
"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.
He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.
Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.
You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.
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Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.
You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?
Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.
[...]
While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.
"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.
"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.
Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"
He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?
"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?
His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.
"It's none of your business so stay out of it."
"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.
"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.
"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.
Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.
He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.
Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.
"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.
"Sorry, were you busy with him?"
You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.
Directions? Did she really...?
As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.
The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...
Part Two: Coming soon...
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mpileons · 2 months
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behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader
> chapter two
A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3
+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)
Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.
Word Count: 1.9K
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Chapter 1
A Year Ago —
It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.
As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.
"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.
For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.
My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?
I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.
"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.
"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."
The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.
We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.
Present Day –
The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.
"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.
"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.
As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.
"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.
I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.
The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.
As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.
Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"
I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.
"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"
Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."
As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.
I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.
10 Months Ago —
My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.
Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.
As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?
I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.
Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.
“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.
Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.
She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.
Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?
She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.
As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.
And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭
but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷
thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)
Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)
cw: sick family member
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 
Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 
So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 
Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 
“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 
“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”
Singh nods in return. 
“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 
James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 
You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 
A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 
Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 
“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 
“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 
“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 
“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 
“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 
You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 
“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 
“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 
James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 
You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 
“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 
You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 
“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 
You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 
James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 
“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 
“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 
“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 
You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 
James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 
You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 
“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 
“You’ve caught me.” 
It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 
“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 
James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 
“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 
“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 
You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”
513 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Shirt Swap IV
Pernille Harder x Child!Reader
Keira Walsh x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You finally meet Keira Walsh
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You've spent the weeks running up to the group stages of the World Cup with the Swedish girls - for one of the first times in your life - but you flip flop between Morsa and Momma when you want to.
This is one of those times.
Momma's been put into a group with England, meaning Leah's team, meaning Keira Walsh.
It was a struggle this morning for Momma to put you in her Denmark shirt instead of a Keira Walsh England one.
Your Denmark loses and, even worse, Keira Walsh goes off injured. Your grandparents cover your eyes when it happens so you don't see her get stretchered off but you remain antsy the entire match afterwards, especially when Momma gets into a few scrapes herself.
You're allowed out of the box and onto the pitch when it's over and you tentatively approach Momma, pulling on her shorts.
"Does this mean Denmark stops playing?" You ask, biting at your lip.
"No, princesse," Momma says," So long as we win our next match, we can finish second in the table and get through to the knockouts."
You nod, pulling at your jersey. "So you're not too sad?"
"Only a little sad," She confirms, taking your hand with a smile," Come on, princesse, I think Rikke has some skildpadder just for you waiting in the locker room. How about we go eat our feelings?"
You smile as Momma brings you into the tunnel. "Morsa says that's unhealthy."
Momma winks. "I won't tell if you don't."
You giggle and nod, holding Momma's hand tightly just in case she really is upset about the loss and needs comfort.
"Luce!" Someone from the England side snaps," I can walk!"
"You're on crutches!"
"Yes! And I can walk!"
Momma seems a bit confused at the upset and hurries you along a bit quicker, hand moving to your shoulder to force you ahead of her and further down to the Denmark changing rooms.
"Hey! Wait! Harder, wait up!"
Momma stops, shoving you behind her a little bit. When you peer out from behind her legs, Keira Walsh is standing there. She's on crutches and looks to be in quite a bit of pain.
"Keira Walsh," Momma says neutrally, still keeping you pinned to her side," How is your knee?"
"Not good," Keira Walsh replies," It'll get better." She seems a bit distracted and she smiles down at you before looking over her shoulder. "Luce, G, mind helping me out here?"
Lucy Bronze and Georgia Stanway (you recognise her because Momma says that she plays at Bayern, where you all are going to be moving to after the World Cup) hold onto her as Keira Walsh takes off her shirt.
She smiles at you again. "Hi," She says," Er...Aitana sent your mums a picture with me in it. I...er...I heard she sent you some of my shirts as well."
You nod, stepping out from behind Momma.
"Well...here, I'd like you to have this one too."
"Really?"
"Course. Anything for my biggest fan."
You take the jersey and Momma helps you put it on.
You look up at Keira again, smiling. "Thank you."
Keira's smiling at you too even though she looks unsteady on her feet. "You'll have to return the favour one day, huh? When you're playing in a World Cup, I'll want your shirt too, okay?"
"How about that, princesse?" Momma says. She kneels down next to you, a hand on your shoulder. "Keira gives you her shirt now and you give her yours when you play at the World Cup. Seem fair?"
You nod. "Yeah!"
"I'll look forward to it," Keira says," I think that I'll be your biggest fan when you're older."
Your face grows a little bit red under the praise and you shift on your feet a little bit to dispel your excitement. "I don't know if I can give you my jersey when I win," You say a little apologetically," Because I already said that I'd give that to someone else. Maybe when I beat England though."
Keira laughs. "That's good by me."
Georgia Stanway laughs too. "It won't in a few years when she's scoring past us."
"I don't score." You shake your head quickly. "I save. Like Zećira."
"A keeper then," Keira says," Even better. I've never had a keeper shirt."
"I'm gonna be the best keeper," You say.
Lucy Bronze laughs and yells out," Oi! Mearps! Take off your shirt!"
Mary Earps, who has begun to make her way down the tunnel, frowns. "That's a terrible pickup line."
"Not for me," Lucy says," For Pernille's kid. She's going to be a keeper when she grows up. Says she's gonna be the best."
Mary Earps is a very good goalkeeper and, a bit like Keira Walsh, you're slightly star-struck. She smiles easily at you though and strips her shirt without a second thought, passing it over to you.
"Thank you," You say, practically whispering as you hold it tight in your hands. She's smiling at you and you feel a little bold wearing Keira's shirt and holding Mary's. "I'm going to be better than you."
It sets off a howl of laughter from Lucy and Georgia and a wry smile from Keira.
"God, I hope so, kid. I'll hold you to that."
"I will!"
Mary laughs too and crowds into your space as Momma snaps a photo before sending you off to the locker room to have your skildpadder.
"I think you all just made her week. It's all she's going to be talking about. I don't know if she'll sleep tonight."
Keira winces. "Sorry."
"Don't be. Magda's got her tonight."
810 notes · View notes
nr1chaedickrider · 7 months
Text
'i just can't leave you alone.'
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need her so bad actually...... been thinking about perv nayeon sooo much.. real jihyo fans know where the title is from hehehe
cw: kinda stalker nayeon??, voyeurism (idk if its the right term but the members are next to them), unnie kink (aka nayeon gets turned on by you calling her unnie), dubcon, somnophilia, idk maybe even gaslighting? light bondage (hands are tied together)
not proofread bc its six in the morning im tired sorry for mistakes
_______________________________________
Nayeon, the oldest member of twice, is especially known for her love for the maknae line, especially you. Being the youngest member with 23, she always took care of you like the good unnie she is!!
But what if her care for you goes too far?
_______________________________________
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" the member flood the gc with messages as soon you wake up.
You're now 24 years old.
You already know that the members planned something for you, especially nayeon.
She is behaving weird since some weeks...
Pictures of you sleeping appearing in your room after you come back home from schedule.. Its like she is watching you.
But its normal... right???
Its nothing bad. Or weird.
_______________________________________
You dress up, walking to the living room since its now later in the day, and the members of course want to celebrate with their dear maknae.
"hi guys" you greet them as you walk into the living room, they all smile at you and hug you, nayeon hugging you, but not wanting to let go.
"I love you so much Y/n, happy birthday!! Ive prepared something special just for you.." she whispers the last part. Sending you shivers down your spine.
You try ignoring it, starting conversations with your members, playing games, drinking and other stuff.
But it was like someone was watching you the whole time.
Of course, after some time, the members (actually mostly just jeongyeon and jihyo..) want to play with minas switch, so they start playing mario party. Nayeon sits down next to you on the couch while the other members are busy being competitive.
You feel a finger trace your thigh under the blanket.
You look at Nayeon who smirks at you.
"Nayeon- what are you doing" you whisper-shout, taking her hand and putting it away.
"Shhh.. you dont want them to hear, dont you?" she whispers into your ear, nibbling on it as she places her hand on your core.
"i-" your shocked.
Why is she doing this?
She cant.
She is like your big sister!
"nayeon stop-" you try pushing her away without the members noticing.
She thrusts her fingers inside, making you let out a whine which you quickly cover eith a cough.
The members are too busy playing those stupid games.
You try to hide your moaning, it feels good... But you cant do this.
"nayeon please-" you still try to push her away, her fingers burried deep inside of you.
She pulls her fingers out.
"Come to my room in an hour." she whispers seducingly in your ear.
What is she doing?
_______________________________________
You stand infront of Nayeons door, knocking.
Once, Twice.
She pulls you into her room, shutting the door and locking it.
A soft black silk cloth touches your wrist. You cant even progress what happens.
She pushes you to her bed, your wrists tied together in a tight knot.
"Nayeon-" you try to say something but she pushes you so much, you fall onto the bed.
She looks down at you, only know you realise she has almost nothing on.
"Im tired of doing this only when you're asleep.." she says, sitting down on your lap as she starts kissing your neck, sucking on it like a wild animal.
You let out some whimpers.
"Nayeon please- what do you mean-" you look at her while she eagerly takes of your shirt.
Your bra lands on the floor right after she took of your shirt.
"Your nipples are so hard... You just want me to suck them. Dont you baby?"she grins. Taking one of your erected buds in her mouth, sucking, nibbling on it.
A part of you enjoys it.
But most parts of you need to know what he fuck she said before..
"n-ahhyeon-", you try saying, "what do you mean with in my sleep-" you try silencing your moans. But damn is she good at this.
"Oh about that?" she smirks, leaving your nipple as she looks at you.
She gropes your tits with her hand as she smiles.
"I have been watching you in your sleep.. These cute pictures of you sleeping? I took them! They look amazing dont they?" she says so.. proudly?
"i-.. this is weird nayeon- you're perverted!" you say, trying to free yourself from the cloth that is tied to your hands.
"And what if i am?" she says, taking off your pants as well as your underwear.
"Your panties are so soaked.. you are enjoying this while calling me a perv??" she says smiling, her cold, long finger slowly circling your clit.
You whine a little. "No nayeon-" she continues circling your clit, slowly starting to rub it, with less and less softness.
"You want this. I know it.. or else you wouldnt react like this." she moves her finger to your face, showing you how its full of your slick.
"i-" you can feel yourself blush.
She shoves her fingers inside of your mouth, "suck." she demands you. You look at her weirdly, then slowly. You start to suck.
"Such a good girl for a perv." she whispers as she kisses your neck again, leaving marks here and there. You continue sucking on her fingers. The praise making you want this even more.
I mean a little pervertness cant hurt...?
She pulls out her fingers, and without even a warning, just shoves into your hole in a second.
You let out a louder moan.
She moves them fast, so eagerly.
"your moans sound better when you're awake.." she says, sucking on your nipple while her fingers are thrusting in and out of you.
Everything is overwhelming.
You start to sweat, your breaths are cut short. Your heart beats rapidly.
All because of Nayeon.
Already after some minutes, you feel yourself clench around nayeon fingers.
"Nayeon- i-"
"Cum for me princess." she interrupts you.
The princess sends you off as you cum onto her fingers, letting out a louder moan.
She slowly pulls her fingers out.
'Click' you look at nayeon, she took a picture???
"I should show this to her.." Nayeon says while smirking.
"Her?? What do you mean-" you ask, very confused.
"You will see." she says. Taking her clothes off.
"But now lets get back to us."
633 notes · View notes
suugarbabe · 8 months
Text
sunshine and ducks | m.r x reader
prompt: was wondering if it’s possible for me to request a Slytherin reader who doesn’t typically go out with guys at hogwarts since she’s got high standards and Mattheo gets dared to try to get a date out of her, leading to them liking each other but maybe there’s like some twist where they both have been writing back and forth in an anonymous journal they found and they eventually plan to meet and they’re shocked it’s them or something?
an: I took a little artistic liberty, so its basically the prompt but with my own twist
warnings: fluff, mention of parental death
Word count: 4.6k
Mattheo shook his head, “There’s no way.” Theo grinned at his friend, “No way because you know you could never do it, could never get the job done.” Mattheo set his fork down, glaring across the table, “That’s not what I mean.” 
“What’s not what you mean?” Blaise and Enzo joined the two at the Slytherin table, packing food onto their plates before morning classes. “Theodore, here, dared me to ask y/n out on a date.” 
Enzo snorted, “Y/n? Like Y/n Y/l/n? Good bloody luck with that, mate.” 
“Thank you,” Mattheo turned back to Theo, a smirk on his face, “Y/n doesn’t date. I don’t even think I’ve seen her go out with anyone in the entire seven years we’ve been here.” 
Blaise nodded in agreement, “Yeah, her standards are way too high, especially for you lot.” Theo and Enzo looked like they’d been wounded, but Mattheo looked intrigued, “What do you mean ‘especially for you lot’, I’m sure I’m exactly what y/n’s type would be.” 
Theo perked up, “So are you accepting the dare?” He held his hand out, ready to shake it, quickly letting out a hiss as Mattheo smacked it away. “I’ll think about it,” Mattheo gave his answer for the moment, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like folded parchment. 
Pansy snatched the parchment from his grasp as she sat next to him, Draco on her other side. “Still playing with this, Matty?” Pansy went to open it before Mattheo grabbed it back, “Leave me alone, Pansy. It’s none of your business.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and looking to Draco, “Will you please tell your cousin that it’s a little pathetic to write back and forth to a mystery girl on enchanted parchment like we’re third years?” 
Draco shrugged his shoulders, mouth full of sausage as he spoke, “Don’t ‘ive a fuck who ‘e ‘alks to, Pans.” Pansy pouted, crossing her arms. Theo, however, took this information and ran with it, “You’re still talking to mystery woman? I thought you gave that up weeks ago. Is that why you’re not taking my bet? You’re waiting on parchment Patty to confess her love to yo-” Theo was cut off by the sausage that was thrown at his face by Mattheo. 
Mattheo got up front the bench, grabbing his bag and the parchment, “I’ll see you guys in class.” 
His first class of the day was ancient runes, a peaceful moment in the morning where none of his friends were. Much to everyone’s surprise he usually got there early, just to have some time to himself. He also looked at it as a good excuse to be late to nearly all of his other classes, since he spent extra time in his first.
When he got to his table, he pulled out the parchment, a grin spreading across his face when he noticed writing was already on it. He found the parchment in the library about two months ago. It was left on a table that he and a girl he convinced to tutor him sat. At first it just appeared like free parchment, until he opened it one morning seeing your scrawl across the page asking if anyone had found it yet. 
There had been an agreement made between the two of you to not reveal your name or any major identifiers. Mattheo was actually thankful to have someone to talk to that didn’t know who he was. As confident as he displays, it was nice to be able to talk to someone without fear of being judged simply because of who his father was. 
It had become customary to write each other in the morning, doing a little check in. Over the last two months you two had built a connection, entrusting each other with information you hadn’t even told your friends.
Any advice on how to get through Divination at 830am?
Mattheo laughed to himself, you were a saint for suffering through Trelawny’s ramblings so early.
Make something up, say you saw a werewolf in your crystal ball, see what she says he wrote back. 
He watched as your response appeared in front of him, Good thinking, Duck. I’ll just tell the crazy woman I see a predator in my future, that’ll get her off my back
He could tell she was being sarcastic You’re right, Sunshine, best keep quiet and just survive the morning
Professor Babbling walked in, causing Mattheo to stash the parchment in his bag again. He sat through class, surprisingly distracted. His thoughts drifted back to breakfast this morning and Theo’s dare. It couldn’t possibly be that hard to get you to go on a date with him, sure you seemed stingy with the guys, but Mattheo couldn’t blame you. 
The pickings were slim, but he knew he was attractive. If he were going to get you to go on a date with him, he had to take a different approach than normal. He couldn’t do lingering looks and winks across the room like he usually did with other girls. He had to be straightforward. 
That’s why when lunch came around Mattheo told his friends he would talk to them later and found you sitting at the end of the table, like always. You had your mix of friends, but it was known you often ate meals alone.
Some people thought it was because you were stuck up, the rumors about you having high standards had been swirling around since you denied golden boy Potter in year four. He had asked you to the Yule Ball, being a Triwizard Champion people were shocked you denied him. You had no interest in being paraded around like arm candy, especially by a Gryffindor. 
When Mattheo sat down across from you, you didn’t even look up from your meal. You at first assumed some first year was scared or nervous from a different part of the table and came to sat by a singular person, being in Slytherin could be intimidating. When Mattheo cleared his throat you finally looked up from your plate. 
You stared at him, eyes piercing directly into his, and suddenly he felt himself get nervous. You stared at each other for a moment before you spoke, “Can I help you with something Mattheo?”
That caught him off guard, “You, erm, know my name?” You laughed lightly at this, “You, sir, are Mattheo Riddle. Heir to the Dark Lord’s throne.” Your tone was teasing, “Everyone knows you.”
“Well I know you, too, Y/n Y/l/n.” You raised your eyebrows at this, “Do you now? What exactly do you think you know besides my name?” 
Mattheo was nervous again, “I uh, I know you like to eat alone.” 
“And yet here you sit.” 
Mattheo let out a low chuckle, “Right, erm, I was, uh, I’ve been watching you.” You snorted, “That’s not creepy at all.” 
“No! I mean, I’ve, erm, seen you around. I mean, we’ve gone to school together for seven years. We’re in the same house, it’s hard not to notice you.” Mattheo was grinning now. He was actually kind of cute, nervous like this, “Do you know anything about me that a first year couldn’t figure out?”
Mattheo smirked now, “I would love to get to know more about you, if you’d let me.” You leaned back now, lacing your fingers in front of you, “And why should I do that, sir?” 
“Got a habit of calling me sir, there something you’d care to share with me?” Mattheo’s lips tugged at the corners. He was teasing you, but he had no idea who he was playing with. You leaned in on your elbows. Mattheo, intrigued, mirrored your position. There was now mere inches between your faces. 
Mattheo had his classic smirk, the one he wore nearly all day, but it faltered when he saw a similar smirk appear on yours. You sat up now, leaning in  to whisper in his ear, “You’ll never be lucky enough to see what a good girl I can be.” 
With that you left the table, leaving Mattheo with his mouth slightly agape. He watched as you left the great hall, hips swaying a little extra as you walked away. 
A hand was clasp on Mattheo’s shoulder, “Well, cousin, that didn’t look like someone who said yes to a date.” 
Theo sat down next to him, “Malfoy’s right. You fuck up the dare already, Riddle?” Mattheo shook his head, “I’m just getting started.”
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You stared at the parchment in front of you, unsure of how to respond. 
Are you going to the Slytherin party tonight, Sunshine?
You weren’t really one for parties, you’ve been to a couple in your time at Hogwarts but it usually just led to unwanted advances from boys you had no intention of giving the time of day to. 
You scribbled back your answer, I’m not sure, parties usually aren’t my scene. 
“Oh come on, y/n, go to one party,” your friend Darcy was leaning over your shoulder. You folded the parchment quickly, “Salazar's sake, Darcy, can you let me just have one thing.” 
Darcy shrugged her shoulders, “You’ve been chatting with this guy for months, y/n/n. Isn’t it time you met him in person? Getting kind of pathetic pining after him like this when you don’t even know what he looks like.” 
You tugged on your bottom lip with your teeth, “I mean, that’s the problem right? He seems so perfect right now but he could be a total tosser in person. I don’t know if I’m ready to take off the rose colored glasses.” 
“Then tell him to find you then.” 
You looked up at her, “You’re brilliant, you know that?” You open the parchment again, writing ferociously before your pen pal can reply again.
I think it’s time we met, what do you say? If you can find me that is
You waited a moment before seeing his response
What do you mean if I can??
You smiled to yourself
You’ve talked to me for two months, Duckie.  I’ll be at the party. If you know me as well as you think you do, you could find me
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“Gonna tell me why you have that stupid grin on your face, cousin? Finally get y/n to agree to that date?” Draco was leaning on his elbow, trying to get Mattheo’s attention. 
“What? No, I’m going to do that at dinner.” Mattheo scribbled on the parchment in front of him.
Can’t wait to finally see you, sunshine
“Sunshine? Has Riddle gone soft on us now?” Draco was smirking, eyes on the parchment. Mattheo grabbed Draco by the collar, “One word. One word of this to anyone, cousin, and I’ll color your hair to match Weasley’s.” 
Someone, Draco’s face became paler, “Okay, okay. Merlin.” He straightened. “You don’t even know what this bird looks like. She’s kind of interfering with your plan for y/n is she not?” 
Mattheo shook his head, “I’ve got it handled, cousin. Don’t you worry.”
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You set down your book, letting out a deep sigh as you now stared right at Mattheo sitting across from you, “Two meals in one day? Did I win the lottery or something?” 
Mattheo laughed, “What? Can’t I just sit with a pretty girl at dinner?” You gave him an incredulous look and his shoulders slumped. He leaned towards you, elbows on the table and hands flailing on he spoke, “Listen, if I tell you the truth you promise you’re not gonna freak out?” 
You nodded curtly, encouraging him to continue. “Okay, so this morning Theo may or may not have dared me to ask you out on a date, more so get you to go on an actual date.” You scoffed, “And why would he do that?” 
Mattheo shrugged, “I may or may not have been staring at you, it’s fine, not a big deal.” You raised your eyebrows at this, but Mattheo only rolled his eyes, “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re hot, y/n, okay?”
You laughed, putting your hands up in defense, “So what, I just go on a date with you and you win? Why is that even a thing?” 
Mattheo wore a look of disbelief, “You’re kidding right? You- Y/n, you never go out on dates.” 
You pouted, crossing your arms, “I’ve dated!” Mattheo shook his head, “Name one boy from Hogwarts you’ve been on a date with.” You sat there a moment, gnawing on the inside of your cheek while you thought.
“Now think of how many boys you’ve denied a date from,” Mattheo was smirking now, you just glared at him. 
“Okay, Riddle, fine. I’ll do it. But just one date.” You pointed your finger at him. Mattheo’s mouth opened and shut like a fish before he found the words, “A-are you serious?”
You nodded, “Now, tell me what it’ll be before I come to my senses and change my mind.” 
“Tonight. There’s a party in the common room. Be my date to the party.” 
You twisted your hands, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Merlin, if you kept that up, Mattheo was going to lose his mind. “Tonight?” you repeated, looking nervous now.
“Something wrong with that? Just figured it’d be the easiest place for us to be seen together.” Mattheo was waiting for your response. 
You let out a soft sigh, “I…I was supposed to meet someone at the party. No one knows about it, well, except you now. I just, no offense to you, I just don’t know if I want that to mess it up.” 
Mattheo smiled, “It’s okay, I’m supposed to meet someone at the party, too. So we’ll just show up together, say hi to my friends so Theo can eat his words and then go our separate ways.” 
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Perfect. Okay. So, how should I dress? I never really paid attention to the girls you hang around, since they’re basically a revolving door.” 
Mattheo held his hands to his chest, “Ouch, you wound me, y/n.” You laughed together. “But, really, wear whatever you want, Sunshine.” 
You froze at his words, “W-what did you say?”  If you could see yourself you’re sure that all the color drained from your face. Did he really just call you that? It had to be a coincidence, right? It was a common pet name, wasn’t it? It doesn’t mean he’s who you think he might be.
“I said you can wear whatever you want,” his smile was genuine, no sign or any give that he may know or be someone other than what he presented in front of you. You nodded at him, “Right, erm, okay. Well, I’m gonna go now, go get ready I guess. I’ll…see you later?” 
You started to stand and he grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it like a knight, “See you later, Sunshine.” 
You pulled your hand back, maybe a little too quickly, holding your books to your chest and rushing out of the great hall. Your mind was racing, not able to untie the knot of thoughts that was forming in your brain. Mattheo could not be your secret parchment person. He simply could not. Sure, he was handsome. But he was a jerk. He was a manipulator, that’s what he did with women, manipulated them, swindled them, sweet talked them until he got to bring them up to his dorm. That was the Mattheo Riddle you heard about. 
But he was nice to you all day today. But that could just be him being nice to get in your pants right? No, he agreed to leave you alone, said that he was meeting someone too. But what if who he was trying to meet was actually you? 
Your head hurt. You groaned as you belly flopped onto your bed in your dorm. 
“Y’alright, there, y/n/n?” Darcy was picking through her closet, presumably looking for something to wear to the party. 
You mumbled, words muffled by your pillow. “Come again, dear?” Darcy was sat on your bed now. You turned your head to the side, not even bothering moving your hair from your eyes, “I think I know who my secret parchment man is.” 
Darcy jumped up from her position, bouncing on her toes, “Brilliant, brilliant, that’s so wonderful, y/n/n!” 
Her bouncing slowly came to a halt when she noticed you didn’t move from your position, “Why are you not happy? Oh no, is he ugly? How bad is it? Like Filch bad? Y/n/n, talk to me, don’t sulk all the way until the party.” 
You groaned again, “The party. Merlin…I have to get ready for my bloody date.” 
“You’re what?!”
You sat up, “It’s no big deal, Darce. I just…told Mattheo that I would accompany him to the party tonight.” 
“Mattheo,” Darcy held her hands out in front of her, “Like…Riddle?” 
“Do you know any other Mattheo?” 
“Well what are you gonna wear? Oh my god, Mattheo?! Really? God, are you gonna snog him? I heard he was bloody amazing with his tongue,” Darcy was now throwing the slinkiest, tiniest dresses on your bed, continuing to rant about how much you should try and shag Mattheo by night’s end.
“You know I am trying to meet someone else at this party, you know that right?” You held up a dress before tossing it on the floor, “Absolutely not.” 
“Okay well what about this one?” She held up a silky green number, corset style back and a deep v-cut in the front, cups like a bra for the bustier, “And you looked downright miserable at the possibility of who this person might be, might as well look hot with a hot person until you decide if it’s really him or not.”  
You held up the dress she offered, flipping it back and forth before deciding to try it on, “I guess you’re right. I can’t really decide to have a bad time unless I know for sure that I’m right about who it is.” 
You shimmied the dress over your hips, tugging a little at the hem, “S’not too short?” Darcy shook her head, “Absolutely not, now…let’s do your hair and makeup” 
You rubbed your lips together after Darcy applied the gold and glittery lip gloss. You put on your old Doc Marten boots, in your mind you had to keep a little authenticity with your outfit and you thought it gave you a little ‘bad girl’ flair. 
You did a twirl in the mirror. “Please tell me those aren’t the shoes you’re wearing,” Darcy had a displeased look on her face, both of you so focused on your outfit you didn’t notice the door opening. 
“I think she looks breathtaking, honestly.” You both turn at the sound of Mattheo’s voice, your cheeks instantly aflame. 
“We’ll I’m going down, I’ll see you two later?” Darcy shot you a wink and you waved her off before she left the room. 
You turned back to Mattheo, “So really, how do I look?” 
Mattheo walked toward you, tentatively placing his hands on your hips. You felt like your skin was burning where he touched. He twisted your hips, forcing you to spin around and give him a full view before you faced him again. 
“I was being truthful earlier, you look incredible.”
You looked at the ground bashfully. Mattheo grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his, “Hey none of that now, Sunshine. Shall we go give ‘em hell at the party then find our real dates, yeah?” 
Your cheeks burn further at the nickname. I think we’ve already found each other, you think to yourself, but nonetheless, you nod and allow him to guide you down the hall and to the party. 
He’s respectful as he does so, keeping his hand on the small of your back. When you walk through the silencing charm barrier it feels like everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. 
As you maneuvered through the crowd Mattheo’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. You turned your face towards him, only for him to give you a wink before seeing his friends in front of you. 
Theo’s eyes were nearly popping out of his skull, while Enzo basically choked on his drink. 
“They always like this?” You ask no one in particular. One of Mattheo’s friends comes up to you, “Blaise, very nice to meet you, Y/n. And yes, those two are always like that.” 
You shake his hand, smiling. You’re introduced formally to the rest of the group, though you know all their names by simply being in the same house. 
Mattheo offers to get you a drink and then leaves you with his friends. Theo and Enzo each scoot over, making room for you to sit between them. 
As you sit on the couch, Theo leans back, slinging his arms over the back and manspreading his legs. “So how’d he get you to do it?” 
You turn your head to the dirty blonde boy, “How’d who get me to do what?” 
Enzo leans over then, “How’d Riddle get you to go on a date with him? You never date anybody.” 
You laugh a little, “You’d be surprised.”
Before you could explain much further, Mattheo returned, saving you and pulling you to sit with him on another couch. At this point a few other girls joined. You knew them from your house and classes, Daphne, Astoria and Pansy. 
Theo suggested playing a game. Mattheo leaned down, breath fanning your ear as he offered you to leave, “You can go find your date now if you want.” You shook your head, “S’okay, I can stay for one game. Makes the date more believable, yeah?” 
Mattheo smiled at you, a real soft and genuine smile. You could tell it was a thank you, so you both scooted your couch closer to the table for a game. 
The game was adolescent, truth or dare. However if you refused to answer or do a dare you had to drink. The rules were simple enough and you were fine with participating. Blaise and Daphne snogged, Theo was dared to take a shot from Pansy’s belly button and Enzo had to admit he had a crush on Astoria second year.
When Enzo picked you for truth or dare, Mattheo gave him a warning look. You assumed this meant to go easy on you. “Erm, truth or dare, y/n?”
“Let’s go with truth.”
Enzo sat for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin, “If you were to date someone, like a proper boyfriend,” he paused to wiggle his eyebrows at Mattheo, “what kind of pet name would you give them? And why.” 
You thought for a second. You could take a drink, no one could force you to answer. But it was also such an easy question, Enzo really did go easy on you. You could lie, say any pet name in the world. But you wanted to test your theory. See if what you speculated was really true. 
You looked at Mattheo, who gave you a warm smile. Then you looked back around the circle. “I guess, erm, I would call them duck or…duckie.” 
You could feel Mattheo stiffen next to you, but you couldn’t bear to look at him. “That’s kind of adorable,” Daphne cooed, “Why Duckie?”
You shifted a little, “Erm, because that’s what my mum called me dad, and they were so in love, like, proper love that you read about or see in movies.” 
“Were? So they’re not in love anymore?” Draco asked. 
“Cousin.” Mattheo scolded him, but you waved your hand, “S’okay. My mum died a few years ago. She was a brilliant witch, loved experimenting. Then one went awry.” 
You felt yourself tear up a bit. You didn’t talk of your mum much. Mattheo rubbed your back, but your skin felt on fire. “Sorry I’m just gonna…take a moment.” 
You got up to leave, heading toward your dorm before tears could fall, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 
You could feel someone following you but you didn’t care, you just needed to get to your dorm, needed to let your emotions out because after everything that occurred today you felt like you were overflowing. 
You burst through your door, someone catching it before you could slam it closed fully. 
“Y/n, talk to me,” Mattheo’s voice was soft, but you kept your back to him. The tears were coming and you couldn’t let him see. 
“Sunshine…” he pleaded. You turned slowly, eyes at his feet when you finally faced him. “That’s you right,” he took a cautious step forward, “You’re my Sunshine, aren’t you?” 
He held his finger under your chin, tilting it up softly until your eyes met his. He cupped your cheek, thumb wiping away the tears that fell. 
“You’re my duck,” you whispered. 
“Is that a bad thing?” He spoke softly, as if he used his regular volume you’d shatter into pieces. 
You shook your head, “S’not a bad thing. Little surprising. B’not bad.”
Mattheo laughed lightly, “Well I’m glad to hear that.” 
“When did you know? Or when did you suspect?” Mattheo had his hands on your waist now. 
“The first time you called me sunshine,” you smiled a little, “I thought maybe it was a mistake, or you called all girls that.”
“I don’t,” Mattheo replied quickly, “call all girls that. Before I said it to you I only ever wrote it down to…well I guess you.” 
You both laughed a little at this, “Why do you think you said it to me? I mean, you didn’t know, did you? Or suspect it?” 
Mattheo shook his head, “Dunno, after lunch and how you responded to me, it just came out. Guess maybe subconsciously I knew?” He laughed a little, “But I didn’t know for sure until the game, when you said you’d call your boyfriend Duckie.” 
“Is that what you want?” You asked him, causing his head to tilt, “To be my boyfriend.” 
Mattheo was smiling so wide his dimples popped out, you never noticed those before. However now you were going to make it your personal mission to make them pop every chance you got. 
“Is that what you want, Sunshine?” Your cheeks heated at the nickname again, but you smiled at him through your shyness, “I think we’d be fools not to try, yeah?” 
He cupped your cheek again, running a thumb along your bottom lip. He leaned in slowly, prepared to stop at any moment. 
You lifted to your tiptoes, closing the gap for him and allowing your lips to melt together. He pulled you in by your waist as you wrapped your hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. 
He kissed you hungrily, eager, intent on making you dizzy. He held nothing back, and neither did you. Your lips collided in a mix of gasps and groans, fingers clawing at each other until you finally separated, much to each other's dismay. 
 “That was…wow,” for the first time in his life Mattheo didn’t know what to say. 
“I agree,” you laughed, still holding on to his shoulders, “did you…wanna go back to the party or..” you trailed off, eyeing your bed. 
Mattheo followed your gaze, “You gonna show me what a good girl you can be, hmm?”
933 notes · View notes
vhstown · 8 months
Text
time out (part 1)
[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader
summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.
warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish
word count: 3.9k
a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)
PART 2 → / THE AU
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"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"
Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.
The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.
“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”
Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.
Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.
CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered
IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered
You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.
why arent my texts sending Not delivered
miles??? Not delivered
Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.
"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?
Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.
It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.
There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.
Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?
You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…
Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.
"Hello?"
"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.
"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."
"Oh… Do you know where they went?"
"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"
"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.
"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"
"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.
"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…
"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."
"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."
"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.
"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.
"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)
Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."
There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.
"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."
"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.
"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.
"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."
“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)
“Sí, tía.”
The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…
But why weren't your texts going through?
miles are you ok? Not delivered
im really proud of you Not delivered
i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered
It wasn’t like there was much point, but…
i love you Not delivered
Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.
Hey man
Out of town
LMK if miles breaks in
You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.
sure Read at 11:24PM
are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM
Ping!
Yeah
@ Queens
Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?
You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.
The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.
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THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!
"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.
Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.
The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.
Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...
It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.
It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.
And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.
“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”
“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”
“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”
“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”
The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—
"Miles!"
The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?
The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.
You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—
"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"
The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.
Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.
Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.
"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.
"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.
"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."
Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.
"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.
“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"
"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"
"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.
“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”
If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”
You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”
“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.
“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”
“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.
“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”
His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?
“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?
“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.
“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.
“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?
“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.
The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.
“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.
“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”
The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.
“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.
“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.
“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”
“You a doctor now?”
“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”
Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.
“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.
“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.
Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…
“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.
“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.
“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.
“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.
“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”
“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.
“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.
“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”
The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.
Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.
Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.
“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.
He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”
“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”
“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.
“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.
The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”
All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.
🕸️🔭👾
thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again
this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au
reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)
catch my atsv masterlist here !
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charlottecutepie · 3 months
Text
☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)
Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.
author note: Ive been thinking for a very long time whether I should publish this fic here. this is my fav fic I wrote for fnaf, I especially like the way I portrayed William here. so please, if any of you would like to see this story here, can you leave a comment? It’ll help me to understand. I’m just unsure if I should post this fic here :’’)
tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism
Chapter 2.
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Chapter 1. Thoughts
Chilly spring night. Light wind and rain. It's so fresh outside that the opposite effect appears: you feel as if you are suffocating from excess air. Outside is your favourite smell of wet grass after the rain. Light smile appears on your lips, and you carelessly go out on the porch of your house, looking at the beautiful view in front of you.
At such moments, everything around seems to be a part of you, you feel some kind of connection with nature and this world. Peace, tranquility, two things what you lack in life.
Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better? Tomorrow will be the same. And when will it be better? Does this hell have an end?
Your head is filled with bad thoughts. It feels like every day is getting a little worse than the previous one. You never understood why you deserved such treatment from your father. It was as if he was doing everything so that you wouldn't feel like his daughter. He never even called you that. Something bad happened in your family every day, mom and dad always argued, and you always ran into your room in a state of panic, anxiety. What if father does something to her? That's what happened a few years ago. When you called your aunt in tears, begging her to come, because your father broke your mom's leg and beat her to a concussion. You could have been next if your aunt hadn't arrived on time. That evening, the picture of father changed dramatically in your little child's head.
“Father” means something cold, something cruel. The one who can punch, beat, shout, scream. Abuse.
You live with this thought to this day, but the only thing that has changed is that now there is no father anymore. He died a month ago, which was a shock to your whole little family. You hardly remember what happened exactly on the day of his death, but you clearly memorised your mother who cried all night because she knew well that the only one who could work to feed the family was her husband.
And now, because of this husband she cannot find a well-paid job, because he took care to provide her with a serious disability. And you're too young to work, first you must finish school and university.
Your skin was covered with goosebumps, you went back into the house. Passing by mom's room, you made sure that she was asleep and went to your own one.
Tomorrow is another day.
June 22.
“Y/n, breakfast is ready.” you heard mom's voice from the kitchen. Telling her you'd be coming soon, you headed to the bathroom to comb your hair and wash your face.
On the dining table you saw a plate with your favorite breakfast. Pancakes with honey, it couldn't not make you happy. You smiled and sat down opposite your mom. Woman was in a joyful mood.
“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?” she asked gently, examining your face expression. That's how your conversation started, about everything and nothing at once. She told something about her plans for today, for a week, about her friends, about how one of them gave birth again. You just enjoyed her monologue, sometimes nodding and shaking your head. It was nice for you to see a sparkle in mom's eyes, it was something strange and unique for you, but warming soul. “I absolutely forgot that soon is your birthday!”
“Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have remembered…” you answered in confusion, fidgeting in your chair and twitching your leg. For some reason, the mention of your birthday made you uncomfortable. Probably because it will be your first birthday without your father. After all, when he was alive, you never really celebrated it. The maximum that was — sweets that your mother gave you in secret from him. You wonder what will happen this time?
“How are we going to celebrate?” Mom asked, smile on her face.
You looked at the floor, nervously fiddling with your shorts. You scratched your head, trying to think of something, but no idea came to mind. Your thoughts are empty again.
“It's your 18th birthday… We need to celebrate it well somehow.” for a second she paused, before looking at you with cheerful face. “Oh… Mr. Afton!”
Your eyes widened in surprise, because after the funeral, your family stopped communicating with Afton family.
“Mom, what are you up to?” you frowned. To be honest, you always got shivers running down your spine from his name, because your last meeting was at that cemetery, on the day of your father's funeral. Memories have entered your mind, forcing you to remember your last dialogue with Mr. Afton.
After the burial itself happened, you ran away from the crowd away. Your heart was racing like crazy, trying to jump out of your chest. You sat down on a wet bench, covering your face in hysterics. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto a puddle under the bench.
“Young lady,” a low-pitched male voice called you out of hysteria. “Everything is okay? You've been sitting here for hour.”
You opened your eyes and raised your head. Next to you was standing was a tall, middle-aged man with dark brown hair, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. He leaned towards you, holding an umbrella over your head. His face seemed painfully familiar, but because of the hysteria, you couldn't remember who it was.
“Oh god, Y/n? I didn't recognize you, little one. Why are you sitting here all alone?” he smiled broadly as he sat down next to you on the bench, still holding the umbrella for you. “Your mom is looking for you, she's so worried. Her beloved girl is lost.”
You recognised this man. It was none other than William Afton. One of your father's friends, he often came to visit you, and your family also visited him. You were embarrassed by ignoring his questions because you didn't know what to respond. He's been staring at your face the whole time.
“Come on, princess, I see how cold you are.” with these words, he took off his jacket, putting it on your shoulders. “I understand how hard it is for you, honey.”
You haven't received so many nicknames from any men for all your 17 years of life. Never, not once. His voice at some point began to seem more comfortable and soothing. Because of all the surging emotions, you burst into tears again in front of him, no longer hiding your face. William, not wasting a minute, threw umbrella and took you in his arms, so that your face was hidden in his chest. His cold hands stroked your hair, soothing you, calming you. It may have looked strange from out of context, but you really needed support in such hard moment.
“Don't cry, Y/n. You'll be fine, little one.” he talked and talked endlessly, but because of your own tears and sobs, you ignored everything, only burying your nose in his chest more.
“He's the owner of a pizzeria! Do you want to celebrate there? I'm sure he'll give us a discount in honor of such an event.” her smile never disappeared for a second. You were already beginning to doubt at how real her emotions were.
“Are you sure? We don't have much money anyway…”
“Never mind, I want you to finally have the best birthday, dear.” she winked and got up from the table, putting the plates and mugs in the sink.
Your lips curled at the thought of having to see William again.
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Note
AITA for giving away my sisters fish?
This is a dumb and very long story (i could probably shorten it somehow but I don't know how) and I know the title makes me look bad.
Ok so, one evening my mom and my little sister(let's call her Jess) brought home a container of four fish that mum said she saw a guy selling on the road for about 2 dollars (I'm not american so I just calculated and it comes out to around 2 dollars)
This was during the end of year break when Jess was home (usually we all go to boarding school) None of us had ever had pet fish before and we didn't know what kind of fish they were, they looked different from each other and their size difference was pretty big too(the largest was about the size of three nail clippers stacked on top of each other and the smallest was about the size of 1/2 of a car key). So we weren't sure of the species of any and bought the most nondescript pack of fish food we could find, they ate it so we thought things were ok.
About 1 month into the break though (the end of year break where I am is 2 months), 1 of the fish died for reasons we still don't know (we changed the water every 3 days) and two weeks later a second one just disappeared, it wasn't in the bowl, and no one knew what happened. So by the time school started there were 2 fish left (Jess was sad but we also have dogs so she wasn't too sad)
All of us go to different boarding schools but ive been going to a day-school this past year because I'm scheduled for a surgery, so when everyone went back it was just me with the fish.
My elder sister (let's call her Kat) came home from university for a while and she thought the fish were cool so she asked my mom if she could tell her where she got them so she could get some for her dorm. My mom told her she just got them from some guy on the road who didn't have a stall and probably wouldn't be there if she drove to the place she found him. So she went back to uni without any fish
Flash forward, 4 weeks into the term, my mom comes to get me from school and she says was passing the area she saw the guy and he was there with another container of fish this time with about 10 fish also of various muddy and sandy colours, about length of the diameter of a soda-bottle cap (my mom said they also cost her about 2 dollars). I said we could split the fish in half, keep 6 and give Kat 6 for her dorm.
So I'm sitting in the car, holding the container of fish my laps and my mom suddenly stops the car because a person walking on the sidewalks falls into the trenches on the sides of the road. The person is ok but the car stops so suddenly and I'm not holding the container securely so it falls from my laps.
The container has a lid so the car is ok but the guy added some small rocks and a fake plant to the container so they kind of bury the some of fish and 6 of them die. I look on like an idiot while mom tries to settle the rocks but another fish is buried when the rocks are settled.
By the time we get home and transfer all the living fish into the bowl we already have, we have 5 fish in total. We move them to a new, slightly bigger bowl and feed them but by the next morning when I'm going to school i see 3 fish left.
When I get home, I tell my mom that maybe we aren't ready for fish and we should give them to Kat whose dorm may be less of a safety hazard (during the end of year break we used to play with the fish a lot, trying to touch their tails etc so we're definitely the reason the first batch died anyway. We're also 8 kids and there are kids older and younger than me so it would be hard to stop EVERYONE from being rough with the fish). I also had exams coming up and I was starting to put of changing the water and cleaning bowl until i saw algae growing on sides.
Kat has a roommate who thinks the fish are cool too so incase one of them forgets maintaining the fish the other can do it. (I also kind of secretly hoped the all fish would just die a week or two into being with them so it wouldn't bother them anymore I feel bad about it)
Anyway, 3 weeks later when Kat came home she took the fish with her. It's around the middle of the first term so it was Visitation Day at Jess's school yesterday (I think the name is self explanatory) and the first thing she asked about was the fish. I didn't know what to say so I told her the truth and she was so SAD!!(I mean obviously she'd be sad but visitation day is supposed to be a good day) because we named the fish and everything(the first batch, not the second) . I tried to tell her how Kat and her roommate were nice and would give the new fish good name but she said that was dumb I knew that was dumb and I wish had just lied about the whole thing and asked my mom to buy new fish but I feel like Jess would know so said nothing else
My mom kind of cheered her up by saying that during the holidays they could go get a good tank and actual goldfish from a better place but she was mad at me because I suggested that the fish be given to Kat and I feel like she's right because it would be stupid to ask Kat to bring the fish wish her the next time she came home.
All my other siblings not just Jess also got attached to the fish so I'll just be breaking the news to everyone for the next three weeks (because all schools where I am schedule visitation day in the same month) and just generally ruining the mood.
What are these acronyms?
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stainedstardom · 1 year
Note
Hi I hope you are doing good!
could you do an ethan landry x fem reader?
Where the reader has an obsessed stalker and the stalker attacks the reader similar to how tara was attacked at the beginning of scream 5 and Ethan finds out about it?
( I hope that's not too difficult to write and I love your writing! 🖤)
i love you so much for this. thank you so so much for the request, also I'm glad you love my writing.
CRAZY STALKER
ethan landry x reader
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you sat on your couch, the lights were on but the tv casted a light on you and only you. you stared at the tv as you watched the show in pure silence. it felt nice to be in silence, college was kicking your ass and if you could sit in silence for a few minutes or hours you would be okay with it.
out of nowhere your phone rang and you stood up, you knew about the killings that had been happening around town and campus but they had been happening for years upon years.
however yesterday you found out that someone had been watching you, following you and stalking your every move. where you went, who you hung out with, what you ate, what you read, what you did, what you learned, the classes you took, they were a pure crazy stalker on every level and the worse part is that they made it known.
they let you know they were watching and waiting. they were baiting you, keeping you in fear and anger. this shouldn't be happening to you, why you of all people? it didn't matter, you couldn't let it get to you and you couldn't let them see that you cared.
"hello" you said into the phone not thinking of it, whats the worse that can happen? well you know the worse but it didn't matter, you just needed to fight this.
"hello , is lana there?" they asked and you scoffed. lana was your mom but she hadn't been coming to see you at all lately, she didn't support you so you knew that she wouldn't show up.
"no, shes not but i can leave a message" god why did you say that? you didn't even live with her, she wasn't going to come here? leave a message what the fuck?
"tell her that charlie called" he said and you laughed.
"yeah yeah ill do that" you stated and you went to end the call but he didn't let you.
"your mom says alot about you, that you love scary movies. says you have that in common, whats your favorite scary movie y/n?" he asked and you took a deep breathe
"youre my stalker, you should know that" you said bravely and he laughed.
"i dont know what youre talking about y/n. have you ever seen stab?" he asked and you nodded.
"of course ive seen it, i live in woodsboro" I told him and he laughed.
"well then you know the beginning" he exclaimed and that's when they came out of nowhere, knife and all.
"OH SHIT" you yelled and you went to run but it was no use. he stabbed the knife into your stomach and you cried out.
"GET AWAY FROM YOU" you yelled and you kicked him as you ran off to your room. you locked the door and not long after he left but you knew it wasn't over.
you patched yourself up and laid there. you knew that you needed to go to a hospital but you couldn't. not right now. you would do it in the morning.
-a few weeks later
you sat there with ethan and you bent over, you groaned as you lifted your shirt and looked at the bandage that covered the knife wound
"woah what happened?" your boyfriend asked in fear as he ran his hand over it and looked you in the eye.
"i got fucking attacked" you stated and he stared at it. he didn't know what to say
"why didnt you tell me?" he questioned
"i didnt know how to" you exclaimed
"im sorry i wasnt there to help" he apologized but you grabbed his face and shook your head
"there was nothing you couldve done" you told him
"i swear im going to protect you, that's it. I'm going to keep your safe" he said and he leaned in and kissed you again.
if only he had kept the promise
A/N: i didnt know how to add in ethan being the bf so I did it at the end in a cute little protective way but I hope you liked it.
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kaleldobrev · 10 months
Text
Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Gn!Reader
Summary: Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Some cursing, Talks of Sex (Not explicit in the slightest) 
Authors Note: This is inspired by a quote Jo Harvelle said to Dean in Everybody Loves a Clown from Season 2: “Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV.” | The writing of this is in a little bit of a different style than some of my previous work. But I hope it came out okay! Let me know what you all think | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Although you and Dean have been together for the last couple of years, the two of you never had a proper first date. The way the two of you first started dating started out as a traditional friends with benefits story, but without the “starting out as a friends” part.
The two of you had met at a local bar in Lebanon, your date was over an hour late, already drowning your sorrows with shot after shot of tequila. That night, you were ready to make some bad decisions to make yourself feel better.
That is when you eyed Dean Campbell and quickly started chatting him up. He was on his third beer; not nearly as intoxicated as you were, but was humoring you as you gave him cheesy pick-up lines and telling him horror stories about your job. A couple hours later, the two of you made your way in the back of his car, hungerly kissing each other all over, leading to uncomfortable yet satisfying car sex. You never did reach out to your date to reschedule.
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A week later, you had spotted him at the bar again, you weren’t as drunk as you previously had been your first meeting. He remembered you, and you were surprised. He asked you if he had left any bruises on you from the week before, and asked if you had anymore horror stories about your job. “I’ll tell you more if you tell me some.” You said.
He chuckled before taking a sip of beer. “You don’t wanna know my stories Sweetheart.” He replied.
That night you slept with him again; this time at your place and not in the backseat of his impala. The next morning the two of you exchanged numbers. “Last name’s really Winchester.” He told you.
“What?” You asked.
“My last name. It’s Winchester, not Campbell.” He said.
“Winchester sounds more fitting.” You gave him a smile.
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After exchanging numbers, the two of you never met up at the bar again; always meeting up at your place. You called him, or he called you; sometimes he would just show up at your door with a six pack and some take-out. The sex was great every single time; but it changed as time went on. What had started out as needy, rough, and quick, became slow, gentle, almost loving; not that you minded.
Sometimes when he would come over, the two of you wouldn’t even have sex. You would just hang out on the couch, share a kiss or two, and cuddle. You had even caught him a few times falling asleep as you scratched the back of his head as he rested his head on your shoulder. You liked that he felt comfortable enough to sleep.
The two of you never made anything official, but between the consistency of the sex the two of you would have, mixed with doing “couple things” like him offering to run errands with you, or hanging out at your place to watch a movie, it started to form into something more than just a friends with benefits situation; it started to become a committed relationship.
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Slowly, over time, Dean began to open up to you. Open up about all the things he’s done over the years and who he really was. He had told you what his real job was – he was a hunter, someone that killed things people didn’t think were real but actually were. Like vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and ghouls. “I’ve killed them all,” he told you. He told you how he saved the world more than once, how he’s been to Hell and back (literally and figuratively), how he’s gone to Heaven, and even spent a year in Purgatory. “Did you know I killed Hitler once?” His proudest achievement. He’s done things you would have never thought about doing in your dizziest daydreams.
When Dean first told you these things, he expected you to run. Expected you to call the police or call him insane. You weren’t a hunter; he didn’t expect you to believe him. But to his surprise you said, “I believe you” and kissed him. That was your way of telling him that you loved him.
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After years of being together the two of you never had a proper first date, but that was something Dean had wanted to for you. Taking out his phone he scrolled until he got to your name and pressed enter. The ringing felt like it had been going on for ages, he always felt nervous talking to you. “Hello my love.” You responded. His lips curved into a smile. He loved when you called him that.
“Hey there Sweetheart. I gotta question for you.” He said, leaning back a bit in his chair.
“Shoot.” You responded.
“I was wondering, would you like to go on a proper first date with me?” He felt like a stupid high schooler asking out his crush.
“A proper first date uh?” You never thought you’d see the day. “What are we going to do on this date?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me. I want you to pick.” He had a million ideas but thought that it would be more special if you picked what the two of you did.
“You’re the one asking me out but I’m the one that has to come up with the date idea? Hmm, I don’t know about that.” You said, hoping your joking tone came through.
“What’s your ideal first date Sweetheart? We can do anything you want.”
“You’re gonna laugh at me.” Your idea of a first date was something no one ever wanted to do.
“Y/N, I’d never laugh at you. Well, I would, and I have. But, not about something as serious as this.” You could hear his smile through the phone. He really was serious about this.
You took a deep breath. “Well. I know this might sound stupid but…I’ve always wanted to eat some pizza with a six pack while listening to side one of Zeppelin four.” Fuck you’re perfect, Dean thought. You waited for Dean to say something, anything, but he didn’t respond. You took his silence for judgement, but in reality, he was just amazed, amazed that this was your ideal first date. “See, I told you it’s stupid.”
“No, no. It’s not stupid at all. It’s…perfect actually. That’s my ideal first date too.” Dean said, being completely serious. He hoped that you didn’t think he was fucking with you. But knowing you, you probably would.
“You’re fucking with me aren’t you?” You respond.
“No Y/N, I swear. You can even ask Sam.” He paused a moment. “I’d, I’d love to do that with you. You and me can take Baby to the park that’s about five minutes away from your house. Sit on the trunk with a cold six pack and large extra cheese pizza between us. The windows rolled down with Zeppelin coming out the speakers.”
“That sounds perfect.” You said. It was a simple sound date, but it was something you’ve always strangely wanted to do; not really fully knowing why, even before you had met Dean. Your previous suitors never wanted to do this date idea, saying that it was too boring, or telling you that Zeppelin was overrated.
“How’s tonight at eight sound?” He asked.
“Eight can’t come soon enough.” You said. This was going to be a long seven hours. You thought.
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waynewifey · 9 months
Text
aftermath — b.w
part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’
part two - ‘aftermath’
part three. - ‘aporia’
summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.
pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader
genre: drama & angst romance
warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement
word count: 2.9k
A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!
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gotham, USA.
the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.
your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.
but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.
"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.
bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.
"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.
"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."
you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.
"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.
"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.
"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"
you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.
"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.
"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?
"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.
— DENIAL
you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.
bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.
it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.
you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.
"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.
he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.
"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.
"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.
"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.
"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.
you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.
bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.
— ANGER
the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.
bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.
alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.
shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.
bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.
it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.
"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."
it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.
you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.
alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.
"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"
part three - aporia
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danikamariewrites · 5 months
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hello. Would you write for dark Dorian and reader? Please
Once Upon a Time
Dark!Dorian x reader
A/n: Ive been a sucker for Dorian lately I cannot stop thinking about him. I’m also loving @shadowdaddies dark!Manorian series rn, definitely go check it out.
Warnings: dark!dorian, manipulation
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“There you are pet. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Dorian’s voice sent chills down your spine as you bask in the afternoon sun. The thrill he gives you after being together the last two years still brings a smile to your face. Like you’re being chased by him in your own home. You look up at him from your spot in the plush grass. The castle gardens are so beautiful this time of year, you can never resist spending your days out here when the weather finally turns.
Dorian sits next to you lightly kissing your forehead. A small blush creeps on to your cheeks as you softly respond, “Hi.” He smiles at you, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger Dorian tilts your head back a little so your eyes meet his sapphire ones. “What are you doing out here sweet girl? Shouldn’t you be wedding planning.” Your face falls. You’re not avoiding planning the most exciting day of your life. You just needed a break from how suffocating the dining room felt with all the flower samples, and napkin samples, and everything else that was carted into the palace for your approval.
“I just needed a moment to myself.” Dorian gives you a sympathetic pout before pulling you onto his lap so your back rested against his chest. “I know things like this can be stressful my love. I’m here if you want me more involved. Come find me next time and we can sit together, ok?” You nod against his strong chest, settling into his warm embrace.
It took a lot to earn Dorian’s trust just so you could come out and enjoy the gardens. While you are allowed to wander the castle on your own Dorian prefers to be with you when you find yourself outdoors. When he found you this time you could tell he was slightly panicked that you didn’t at least have a guard with you. Dorian was always afraid that you’d be taken from him or that you’d run. But you’d never do that. Dorian keeps you safe, you couldn’t imagine life without him.
“Before we go back can you tell me a story? I just want to stay out here for a bit longer.” A small chuckle leaves his full lips. “What story do you want sweet girl?” You think for a moment, “The one where you first saw me and then we met.” Dorian smiles at you as you stare up at him with this innocent doe eyes. “You got it.”
Dorian adjusts you so you’re in a more comfortable position cuddled up to him. “Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in Rifthold. She was the most beautiful girl the King of Adarlan had ever seen. He was absolutely enchanted by her. She’s so kind and sweet, how could he resist her? The king had to meet. One day he took a trip to her flower shop in the city. When they finally met he was so nervous to speak he couldn’t get a word out.
“She was just so smiley and bubbly he couldn’t interrupt her. When the king laid in bed that night all he could think of was the flower girl. Days and weeks went by where he watched the flower girl from afar. When the king finally learned her name it was all he could think of. Y/n. He kept repeating it, practicing saying it for the next time they met. Slowly but surely they fell for each other and the king couldn’t bear another day apart.
“The king watched his sweet y/n. A man walked into her shop and he ended up being belligerent and rude. The king couldn’t have that so he dealt with the man and brought his sweet y/n to the castle where she would be safe with the king forever.”
You remember that day. Gods you were terrified as you hid behind the counter and prayed for Dorian to save you. Everything had been a blur that evening and when you woke up the next morning you were in Dorian’s bed. All your stuff had been moved to the castle. You had tried to leave, something had felt wrong to you. But Dorian had insisted that you must stay until he deemed it safe for you to return home. Eventually you didn’t want to return home. You wanted to stay with Dorian and he was more than happy to have you stay with him.
You turn to straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love that story.” You say softly. Dorian brings his hands up to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “And I love you sweet girl.” He softly kisses your lips then your nose. “Let’s go back inside darling. We can do wedding planning together, hmm.” “Sounds perfect.” Dorian scoops you up in his arms heading back to the dining room.
He did everything to keep you from seeing his anger at the lack of guards in the garden. Barely any were by the gates. Dorian would be having words with Chaol about that. Gods forbid you ran and he couldn’t find you.
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