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#i have explained to him like i do not speak to my family every day. my siblings who i love and value. we speak to each other Sometimes
appleblueberry-pie · 2 days
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Honestly trauma bonding is the way to go 😌✨
Reader who adopted a child and loved them more than anything in the world, since she had no family or pets (being spiderwoman is a sacrifice, after all.).
Reader's Green Goblin killed their child brutally in front of her, leaving Reader with immense trauma and depression. (After torturing and then killing GG in the same gruesome way as he did with her child)
Reader who abandons being a Spider-person and goes back to her old job, being a professional gymnast.
Miguel who finds Reader's world, and asks who there isn't a Spider there if the canon event of the radioactive spider biting someone happened long ago.
Miguel who investigating, finds out that Reader is the spider there, however they abandoned their heroic life (mostly because of backlash from the media)
Miguel who one day goes to Reader's house to get answers, first explaining who he is and what the fuck that orange portal is 💀
Miguel understands how Reader feels and explains his backstory, and persuades (forces) Reader to join the Spider Society.
Miguel, that slowly falls in love with Reader and turns into an obsession. Maybe in the future, he can give Reader his kids so they won't have to grieve as much for their dead kids.
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You were meant for him.
He shouldn't say that, but no bone or muscle in his entire body disagreed with this statement that he is claiming.
He fell in love with you before he even realized it and happily accepted the fall, knowing just from how you spoke to him, that you know how to love. You love the way that he wants to be loved. And he wants that. He wants you.
He was so goddamn in love with everything about you. He loves the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at people, and the way you look at him.
He wants those eyes on him all of the time. So, he tries to work for it.
You looked so tired every single day. Since he found you alone in your apartment of your universe, he knew you held luggage no one else had behind them.
He wanted to at least take half of the weight off of your shoulders. He wanted to brush the midnight tears off of your face. He wanted kiss your callused hands. He wanted to have you.
He truly believes he can fix you.
"There is no fixing me. Nobody can save me."
He had never been so tuned into a conversation before. Mask off, sitting across from you in your living room, on the edge of his seat, staring into your iron eyes. You didn't want to let anyone back in again.
Hearing about your past only made him more determined.
"I can't put that suit back on again.....no. I killed enough people and killed off enough of myself. I don't benefit from that life anymore. Hell, my own city that I fought for doesn't want me anymore. Why the fuck would I even bother trying??" You try to laugh it off and killed the rest of your drink.
"The only person that could make me put that back on is the one I did all of this bullshit for."
You let the silence grow for a little to collect the words building up in your throat. But to speak it was a different battle.
"S/he was mine. S/he was all I had. Every day I had to wake up and go to sleep seeing her/his face, and it's all I needed to continue living another fucking day. And s/he's gone! I thought sparing lives would do me good, and now my babygirl/boy is gone. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" You whispered the words, as if it was forbidden to even speak them aloud.
And every single word you spoke made Miguel feel like he was living in your skin. Every question you asked, everything you said you felt is so close to experience of losing his little girl, it makes him nauseous. He only knew you for a few hours and already wanted to hold you in his arms.
"I can't....I just...can't put that thing back on. I really can't. I'm sorry." Your words slowly turned into a mutter as you fidgeted with your hands.
He doesn't know how many hopeful "yes, you can"s he whispered back to you with comforting (consensual) hugs before you had on that damned suit again and was in the middle of HQ.
His room was quiet. Peaceful, as he typed away on his technology you weren't interested in at all.
You felt so naked in the suit, but for some reason, it made you feel more secure than you'd ever felt these past few years......maybe this would be okay for now.
Miguel looked back at you, seeing you staring off into the distance and stopped typing to place his hand on your shoulder.
You looked up at him with those sad, tired eyes. Just seeing your face as clearly as it was, it continued to give him hope to be the one to support your during your healing process. You clearly needed the help. And if anyone could do it well, he was certain that it would be him.
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kwonkioz · 1 day
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. . . brave and nerd | jeon wonwoo x reader (jo shin-yeol) x kim mingyu
part one
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𐙚 I thanked my mom for putting the mixed toast in front of me, she smiled at me and then proceeded to put the dishes in the machine.
After taking a bite, I looked at her, "Mom, do you know anything about that Park twins' family?"
His brows furrowed, "I wouldn't say they're very nice people. I know their mother from the association, she is a woman with her nose in the air. Why did you ask?"
"The twins finished second and third. I found it strange when a friend of mine worked hard but came in fourth. It's not normal for them to get such high marks when even I was surprised that I got the first place."
"Mrs. Park must have paid a bribe, she doesn't want her children to be."
"Our school is not a place to accept bribes, Mom, that's why I couldn't be sure."
He turned to me, "Shin-yeol, there's nothing money can't buy. How do you think the twins ended up in your class?"
My eyebrows flew up in surprise, "Really?! O... I guessed it. People blame me, but almost everyone is torpedoed except us!"
"Is anyone still treating you the same?"
I shook my head, "They don't say it publicly anymore."
Except for one person...
He's doing it on purpose to break my heart.
After my toast was finished, I grabbed my bag and left the house. I arrived at the school in a short time by bicycle. Some people said I was a sucker for cycling to school even though we had a driver, and some of them would never shut up. But I was living my way. Yes, there are times when I use my mother's respect, but I do it without putting it in anyone's eye.
Here, everyone sees it as it suits them. I'm used to it.
After entering the classroom and taking my seat, I sighed deeply and watched the surroundings. Everyone had a group of friends or a friend. And the queue next to everyone else was full. The part of me was empty, funny...
A girl named Cho Miyeon used to sit next to me, but when she became close friends with another girl, she started to sit next to her, and this row was empty like this. Strangely enough, I didn't really have any friends. I don't have the number of anyone in this class in my phone book, except for Wonwoo. I had already bought it secretly.
Speaking of Wonwoo; He was back in the front row, quietly taking a test. It was the biggest void in my life. I don't know how my only goal was to win her love when she was so far away from me.
But every second I couldn't talk to him, something was building up inside me. If we get close one day, I want to chat for hours.
As the classroom slowly filled in, the twins arrived. I've looked at them with all my hatred, they're really annoying. They were among those who once treated me like a torpedo, and now they are doing the same thing themselves.
A little later, the teacher arrived and the lesson began. Mr. Kim had taken me to the blackboard to read aloud the quiz notes from a few days earlier. Since this quiz would only replace the oral grade, it would not be written on the list, the teacher would explain it himself or have one of the students read it.
I began to read the notes in order; "Kwon Soonyoung 90, Jeon Jungkook 95, Kim Namjoon 100, Hwang Ye-ji 70, Yoon Jeonghan 85, Xu Minghao 100, Jeon Wonwoo 100, Park Dae Gang 45, Park Dae Gun 50..."
Suddenly, the voice in the classroom went up. Some students began to react to the last two notes, and rightly so.
"How the hell do they come second or third in the exam and get so low in the quiz? It's all out there."
Dae Gun turned to the boy who said this and said, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm saying you're torpedoed, brother, it's pretty obvious. How did you get from middle place to third place with zero effort? Are you a genius?"
"Look at me!" when he stood up, Dae Gang sat him down, "Let him go."
A girl in the back row said, "What's happening is happening to us because of people like you! You're a coward... Do it with your own success. You are incapable."
Dae Gang said, "Isn't it impotent to take your pain out on others because you don't get a high grade?"
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I'm saying you're torpedoed, brother, it's pretty obvious. How did you get from middle place to third place with zero effort? Are you a genius?"
"Look at me!" when he stood up, Dae Gang sat him down, "Let him go."
A girl in the back row said, "What's happening is happening to us because of people like you! You're a coward... Do it with your own success. You are incapable."
Dae Gang said, "Isn't it impotent to take your pain out on others because you don't get a high grade?"
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
"Never mind, Minnie, these things are unspeakable."
"Excuse me?"
As the argument spread throughout the class, the teacher yelled and silenced them. He told me to keep going.
"Park Jihyo 95, Wen Junhui 80, Roseanne Park 100, Jo Shin-yeol 100-"
"Like your first place, I hope this isn't a torpedo." I knew he was telling me when the fool interrupted me and looked at him angrily.
"No, it's my own success, as is my first place."
Some laughed, while others did not react. Another boy grinned nervously, "Sure! It's always been your own success."
Another girl asked, "You must have a connection with twins, not triplets?"
As half the class laughed, my body stiffened with nervousness, and I began to squeeze the paper between my hands. The teacher slammed his hand the table.
"Come to your senses! What kind of speech do you speak? There's no tampering with these notes, it's what you get. Know your words!"
"But sir, they're not just doing the same thing for this quiz, they're always doing the same thing."
"Yes, sir! Our families want us to get high grades, but we work and we get them, they are deserving."
I shouted angrily, "I didn't deserve it! Find another cover for your jealousy!"
One of them laughed, "What am I jealous of you? Your money?"
"Exactly, talk, talk, we're listening." after hearing another sarcastic sentence, I realized that I couldn't take it anymore.
"Off... You're really annoyed! It's so annoying, it's so repulsive!" I didn't care about the teacher who called out after me as I threw the paper on the floor and hurried out of the classroom. I barely threw myself into the fire escapes, waited until I got there, and as soon as I sat down on the step, I started crying.
Even if I cover my face with my hand so that I don't have a voice, I don't think it works. So much so that someone had already come to this sound.
"Well... Can I help?"
When I looked up, I saw a boy I didn't know. Who do I know in this school, though?
I quickly wiped away my tears as I don't like to cry in front of anyone as this boy with a cast on his hand looked at me anxiously.
"You can't be."
I thought he would leave, but he came and sat next to me. I looked at him in amazement, still worried and compassionate.
"I don't think I can turn around and leave after seeing you like this. Could you at least tell me what it is?"
My gaze went away. It hurt a lot.
"They say I'm torpedoed, so they think I'm first. They're all disgusting scum."
"Oh, you must be Jo Shin-yeol."
When he held out his hand, I turned to him, "I'm Kim Mingyu."
These were things so foreign to me that I couldn't even reach out and shake the child's hand. He had already withdrawn, "Well, you don't seem to like handshakes. I saw his name on the list, I know it from there. I finished fifth, but I'm laughing."
"Why? Is it so good to be fifth?"
"Are you a maniac, of course it's very good! Well, at least for me. You don't know how hard I tried to even get from ninth to fourth. It's against my constitution to work so hard."
I couldn't help but laugh and he laughed too. After wiping my moist cheeks, I corrected my posture.
"Thank you, I never thought I'd be able to laugh in this situation."
"You can laugh in any situation. Even rose; That's the best answer you can give them."
I sighed deeply. I don't want to be the interlocutor enough to respond to them, but they push the boundaries so much that I'm the one who ends up answering and coming out harmful.
I looked at my watch, and there were twenty minutes left in class. I stood up. I couldn't go to class now. I decided to go to the canteen to get a coffee and recuperate. When Mingyu stood up, I turned to him.
"Don't you have a lesson?"
"The class is the body, and I'm on leave," he said as he showed his plastered hand. I shook my head, "Get well soon."
"Thank you. Where do you plan to go?"
"Canteen. I'll go into the classroom for a second class, and it would be weird to go back now after I've left."
He laughed, "It is. Can I accompany you? My friends play football, I'm the only one left."
"It happens."
We had coffee together in the canteen and talked a little. I found out that he was in the 2/3 class. For now, he aimed to move to 2/2, he is normally a diligent student, but this year his grades dropped because the classes were a little empty. Now he was trying to regain his old order.
When the bell rang, we continued the conversation during the break and then said goodbye. I was back in class when he went out into the garden. I was doing my best to ignore them while the people in the class were looking at me in a type-by-type manner. Wonwoo didn't take his eyes off me until he got to my turn. When I sat down, he turned to me.
"Are you okay?"
"Does he care too much? You don't think differently from them."
He turned in front of him without an answer. Sighing, I leaned back and crossed my arms.
The gaze on me ended when the teacher arrived. Luckily, Mr. Kim didn't say anything about me throwing the notepaper and leaving. Of course, what I did wasn't right, so he told me that I had to wait in class after class. Well, I'm not surprised.
Since our next class was chemistry, we had to go to the lab. When everyone left, I waited in line. Mr. Kim left his glasses on the table and approached and sat on Wonwoo's empty bench in front of me.
"I know your mother didn't ask the principal for any torpedoes about your grades. He makes those donations of his own free will."
Such was the teacher Kim Junmyeon; He wouldn't judge you, he would trust you and support you. But no one knew its value.
"Still, that stigma sticks on him. Do you know why?"
"They're jealous of my grades."
"No," he laughed and added, "I mean, not really. Shin-yeol, it's your behavior that's the problem."
"My behavior?"
"You may not be torpedoed, but that doesn't mean you don't use your mother's power. You can leave the classroom according to your mind, you don't go to classes if you don't want to, you don't pay attention to the tone of your voice when you speak, so you often get into arguments. Just when you're walking, you have the vibe of owning the school. Yes, your grades are so good thanks to your own achievement, your own intelligence. But your behavior... You've got to get yourself in order about it."
Mr. Kim always spoke to me honestly, but the first time he smacked me in the face, I didn't want to admit it. I shook my head.
"How can I act like a model student when they are insulting me? That's what I do."
"You can't just say that's the production and get away with it, Shin-yeol, it's true for everyone! Look, I know you're not a bad person, that's why I'm having this conversation with you. If your actions were as appropriate as your grades, no one would treat you as a torpedo."
I leaned back, exhaling a troubled exhale. A few weeks ago, I was reminded of a sentence that Wonwoo said; "You can be a smart girl, but it doesn't matter because of your ego. Your arrogance has blocked your way!"
Mr. Kim was speaking for my sake. But Wonwoo's was pure hate. My interest in him made me do such ridiculous things that instead of getting to know each other, we were drifting further and further away. Because he's kind of disgusted with me.
"You live this life like a princess; But remember, princesses happen in fairy tales. We are struggling for life in the most painful way in the middle of reality."
I frowned, "I wish you were a philosophy teacher."
He laughed, "But think about what I said. You can get out."
I got up from my bench and made my way to the door. When I left the classroom, I took my cardigan from the hanger and threw it over my shoulder. When I entered the lab, not all of the students were inside because the class bell had not yet rung. So I moved on to the first vacant place I found. And I certainly didn't know Wonwoo was sitting in front of me. Of course, he didn't think so, so as soon as he saw me in the classroom, he rolled his eyes and came and started packing his things.
I pressed my hand on the pen holder he was about to pick up, "You probably wouldn't die if you sat across from me, you're already in front of me in class."
He tugged at his pencil holder hard, "Couldn't you find another place in the big class?"
I defended myself by saying, "I sat in the first place, I didn't know you were here," but he never believed it. He rolled his eyes and sat down on the stool and stopped to pack his things, "I'm sure it is."
Jeon Wonwoo is the embodiment of the word stubbornness!
Before the teacher rang the bell, the class was slowly filling up. I could feel Wonwoo's gaze on me as I took out my chemistry notebook and placed it in front of me. Already soon he began to speak.
"What did Mr. Kim say?" he averted his eyes when I looked up at him, "So if it's not special..."
I smiled slightly at her sweet shyness, and said, "He said I should be careful with my behavior." His brows furrowed as his eyes found me again, "Your behavior?"
"Hm. That I live like a princess, but that's wrong."
He laughed sarcastically, "She's not a princess; child."
This time it was my turn to frown, "Boy?"
"You don't act like a princess, you act like a spoiled child. How are you different from the little children who cry when their candy is taken from them, and who break all hell when they don't get what they want?"
No, I wasn't offended, offended, or angry.
Because he said these things willingly, even to hurt me, and he tried to distance me from him in this way. He's got a plan, he's going after it, but I'm not going to come to his game.
"Do you know what's the difference?" he shook his head with a frustrated look;
"Once children experience things that hurt, they always run away from it. I couldn't leave you."
I saw him swallow. His jaw dropped, but he couldn't give an answer. While we were just staring at each other, we both turned in front of us when the teacher arrived. I've never had any luck since Wonwoo saw me as a kid and himself as candy.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
For two days, Wonwoo had continued to run away from me, and the more he did, the more I chased him. Some things never change.
There was a basketball game today, and Wonwoo looked so cute with a bandana on his head that I couldn't take my gaze off him. While the other girls were screaming Soonyoung, Mingyu, or Seungcheol's name, my only focus was on Wonwoo. I don't care about anyone else.
The gym was filled with enthusiastic cheering, and by the time the first half was over, it had become a little quieter. When I looked at Wonwoo sitting on one of the chairs at the side of the field, I noticed that he was out of breath, but there was no water there. I made my way to the unopened packages, tore the nylon, and grabbed two bottles and went over to him. I sat down and handed one to him and placed the other next to him. He was really tired, he put the water on his head.
"Basketball doesn't work for cows."
Even though he didn't like being called a nerd, he didn't bother about it and grumbled about the coach, "I told the coach not to add me to the team so I can't do it! Who's listening?"
"Why do you say that, you got the first number."
"It is, but I don't have time for that kind of thing. I have to study for the second exams."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "You're really a nerd." she stared at me, "You're the one who likes a nerd, but?"
I pressed my lips together and smiled, and leaned slightly over him with the support of my hand, "I see you're getting used to it?"
She blinked in panic, she was incredibly cute!
"What's the point? Or stay away! You're getting on my nerves."
I pulled back, chuckling and laughing. By the start of the second half, he had clenched his neck and ran towards the field. It didn't matter if they won or didn't win because it was a friendly match for the upper classes. They were just playing for fun. With the comfort of this, I only watched Wonwoo.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
The other team won the match, but as I said, it was a friendly match, winning was not anyone's priority. As I drove to the car alone after school, I caught up with Wonwoo, who was a few steps ahead of me.
"I can let go."
"I'm not crazy enough to get into the car of someone who doesn't have a license, so keep it."
"I drove the car for only one day, today the driver is taking it. And even though I don't have a driver's license, I drive it just fine."
"Whatever."
He wasn't about to stop, and when I grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him, he let out a weary breath.
"Rest in peace, Shin-yeol."
"You too."
"I'm already-" he knew what I meant and paused, and I laughed lightly. But he still looked bored, and my brows furrowed when he continued, "I don't have the peace you're looking for, get it."
"How do you know? You didn't even make an effort to get to know me. You always make firm decisions without trying."
"Because I don't have time for that! I'm the nerd who can't think of anything but my grades, and you'd better find yourself a bum like yourself."
A bum like yourself...
He had gone again. The sweet bickering between us was gradually turning into painful arguments.
When I got home, my mom came home early from work, so we went to the kitchen to have a snack together. Although everyone treated us as if we were incapable people, my mother was a decent woman who knew the law very well. My interest in Wonwoo manifested itself for the first time and made me too crazy to study thinking about him, and I dropped to fifth place in the class. But even then, my mother didn't raise her voice to me one bit, believing that I would be able to succeed in the next exam. He even consoled himself by saying that fifth place wasn't bad.
People talk about a woman like that, and that's what I'm most mad about. Then why is Jo Shin-yeol acting like a bum, and they infuriate you!
"How was school today?"
"It sucks," I said quickly. I wouldn't hide anything from him. Well, except for Wonwoo, but he could already guess it, "Being in the same class as the people who treated me like a torpedo again two days ago will continue to ruin my every day."
"Let them go, girl! They say that a person knows his own business. They use the power of money for small things, so they think you do too. You are building your own successful future. Don't even hear them talking."
I was stuck on one sentence.
"Do you know who uses torpedoes?"
"So... I've witnessed it a few times at a parents' meeting, but I don't have any clear information."
I put my hands on the table and came to the front, "Mom, please tell me! Who are they? Look, everyone blames me."
He sighed as he placed the plate full of biscuits in front of me, brought a cup of coffee each, and sat down on the chair across from me.
"Park Yul Yeon, the mother of twins, is a bit of a perfectionist. He's so used to having the best of everything that he can't stomach his kids getting low grades, and he's ashamed. So he may have had some conversations with your assistant manager."
"Mom, don't talk about it! And what does it mean to be an assistant director? I think he met with the principal."
My mother shook her head, "Principal Rhee is a fair educator who does not accept bribes. He is a close friend of your grandfather, I know from there. But he's Vice Principal Woon, he's really to be feared."
"Well, he couldn't have done such a thing without Principal Rhee knowing. Besides, if you know that, why didn't you tell the principal at all?"
"I don't have any evidence. Not only me, but also many other parents are aware of the situation and they remain silent with the mindset that the mother will get bread for us."
I clenched my hands into fists in anger, "What happens happens to me happens as long as they stay silent. To this day, I have always received those grades on my own, but I am being treated like a torpedo because you donated to the school."
"It doesn't make any sense, what kind of mindset do your friends have? I donate not only to your school, but also to many other schools and institutions. It's a common thing for your father and me, but people are so used to thinking badly!"
"Their hearts are ugly, their way of thinking is ugly, their character is ugly... I don't know what to do anymore."
He smiled and took my hand.
"You have your family behind you, you don't have to be bullied by anyone. Don't worry, I'll figure it out."
"How?"
"You leave it to me, come on, your coffee has gone cold."
I was trying to understand what was going through my mother's mind as I drank my warm coffee, but it was impossible. He thought so fast and made sound decisions that it was impossible to keep up with him. Still, I was sure that he would do something to get me out of this trouble. At least, I hope so.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
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gideonisms · 11 days
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the ONLY people I should hear from every day of the week are the gay people online hope this helps 👌
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starkwlkr · 1 month
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silver springs | mark webber
thanks to everyone who voted! like my seb fic, this will only have three parts
part 2
warning: cheating
requests are closed
INSTRAGRAM
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liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 563,377 others
yourusername congratulations oscarpiastri on your incredible sprint race win! first win in f1, but it won’t be the last!
oscarpiastri ❤️
papayafans481 DESERVED
teampiastri did anyone see the interview with david coulthard and mark webber?😭
leclerctears what happened??
teampiastri david kept bringing up y/n and mark couldn’t even say her name 🥲 he said mclaren team principal when referring to her
lewis8wdc what the fuck happened between them?🤨 i know they dated I’m guessing they ended on bad terms
op81xx girl they were gonna get married 😭 mark had the ring and even asked y/n’s family for their blessing there’s a thread on twitter about them
aussiegrit ❤️
multi21bitch you ain’t slick old man 🤨
view all 34,366 comments
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UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX
Lando had scored a podium finish while Oscar had unfortunately suffered a DNF. After the podium ceremony, you were on your way back to the Mclaren garage when you heard a familiar voice. Mark was speaking with Fernando when you had walked by them. It had been years since you were that close to Mark. Of course he was in the Mclaren garage since he was Oscar’s manager, but you were a pro at avoiding Mark Webber.
You kept walking and finally made it to the garage where you congratulated the team for their effort.
“When was the last time she spoke to you?” Fernando questioned the Aussie. He was great friends with both you and Mark. He was one of many that thought you two would end up getting married. He was utterly shocked when Mark had told him that you were no longer together.
“March twenty fifth twenty thirteen. She blocked my number, she told me I couldn’t contact any of her family members either.” He explained. “I fucked up my life, Fernando.”
No one apart from Mark and you knew the reason for the break up.
“What did you do?”
“I hurt her. After Malaysia happened, y/n tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away. I stayed in the paddock late while y/n was already in our hotel room waiting for me, i told her to just go to sleep but she never listens. I was on my way back and I decided to go to a bar and I met a woman there. . . ”
It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen next.
“Shit, Mark.” Fernando mumbled.
“That’s not even the worst part, mate. I came back to our hotel room in the morning and she had her suitcase packed. She was going back home. The woman I was with had texted her from my phone and told her everything.” Mark remembered that night all too well. “She told me she never wanted to see me again . . .”
“Funny how that turned out.”
“But she also told me something else. Her doctor had called her a few days ago and told her she was pregnant. I fucked up my life all because I got mad at the result of a stupid race!”
Like everything else in the paddock, Mark’s words didn’t stay a secret for long. A rumor confirmed true traveled fast.
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PRIVATE INSTAGRAM
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yourprivate happy birthday, my darling 🎀✨ i look forward to your sidewalk chalk artwork everyday ❤️
susie_wolff she’s getting so big! happy birthday!
yourprivate i’m not ready for her to grow anymore🥹
clairewilliams_official what an artist!❤️
yourprivate my own little picasso ❤️
zbrownceo happy birthday 🎂 i hope she enjoyed all the gifts the team and i sent
yourprivate she loved every single one, thank you!
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obsessedwithceleste · 2 months
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Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)
Theodore Nott x gn!reader
Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff
Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
word count: 3.1k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.
It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.
You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.
“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.
“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”
You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.
“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”
Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.
Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.
“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.
“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.
“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.
But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.
The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.
It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.
By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.
“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.
You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.
She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.
You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.
As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.
The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.
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“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.
You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.
In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.
“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.
That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.
"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.
That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.
After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.
At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.
With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.
Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.
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Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.
It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”
The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.
“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.
You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Pansy just wrinkles her nose.
“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.
The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.
After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.
It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.
It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.
He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.
Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.
A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.
For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.
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By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.
It had started with the study sessions.
"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."
As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.
Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.
You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.
You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.
Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.
“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.
It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.
You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.
Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.
Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.
It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.
You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.
“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.
“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.
You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.
“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.
You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.
“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”
There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.
In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.
“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”
That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.
“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”
And with that, he’s gone.
It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.
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It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.
Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.
After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.
It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.
It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.
“For what, amore?”
“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”
Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.
“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.
You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.
Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.
“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)
“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”
“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.
Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.
“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.
“No!” The chorus replies.
With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.
“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.
“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.
“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.
With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
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I'm a sucker for soulmate aus
1K notes · View notes
intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
I just wanted to say I love your writing 😭 and if I could request like what if Miguel O’Hara was kinda close with some spider kid (around like 16?) and they reminded him of the daughter he lost? (All in a platonic father m daughter way)
Welcome to the Family
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara & Spider!Teen!F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel didn’t know what you reminded him of, but it takes a few times to finally get it.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Welcome to the Family” by Avenged Sevenfold. Thank you for waiting and for requesting! And thank you for loving my writing. It means a lot.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.5k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, abuse, angst-to-fluff, talk of marriage, violence, injuries…
Small Spoiler Warning for ATSV!!
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Alright, let me explain… My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I was bitten by a radioactive spider. For the past two years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman. I thought everything was going well until I was disowned by my parents, and lost my aunt the same day. From then on, I chose to be distant from society, no matter how much I craved a relationship.
“What are you doing here (F/n).” You crossed your arms, staring directly at the man you once called father.
“I’m still your father.”
“I thought you said, you’re no longer the child I raised?” You told.
“Don’t talk back to me!”
“I’m simply stating the fact is all.”
He shakes his head, “You know, your mother is disappointed. And I’m sure your aunt would be as well.”
Your eyes narrow at him, “Don’t you speak of my aunt.”
“I can talk to her however I want, she is my sister.”
“A sister you abandoned.”
The second he stepped towards you, you jumped back, keeping yourself at a distance, “Why the hell are you here anyways? I know you don’t want to see me.”
“You can still make this right.” He started to explain, “The boy’s family is still willing to have you, even after your idiotic display of teenage emotions. You either take the boy or leave.”
“I told you I won’t. It’s shocking how you’re willing to betray your daughter over a family you don’t even know.”
“I never wanted a daughter! If you want to make things right, if you want us to forgive you, then you will marry this boy!”
“And I told you no! Now get out of here!” You shouted at him, “Leave me alone!”
“I should’ve left you and your mother the day you were born.” And with that, he’s gone, slamming the door to the rooftop on his way out.
But you. You’re a mess.
Your mother didn’t hate you as much as your father did, but you could see it every time she looked at you. The disappointment, the failure, and how much of a disgrace you were to your so-called family.
And that boy was supposed to fix everything, only because he was made of money.
You fell to your knees, holding yourself as tight as possible as you cried to yourself. As much as you were out of there, you were all alone.
No family and you lost your only friend. Your aunt.
Then, you saw trash floating in front of you. You grabbed the cab right out of the air and saw it reflecting colors that were behind you… Behind you?
You slowly stood, turning around to see a rather colorful portal. It was causing some effect as everything around it was floating, then you heard it.
First, it sounded like a whisper then it came right at you. Luckily you dodged on time and the figure flew past you.
A loud thud, followed by a man’s voice getting angry at a woman called Lyla.
You hid behind a metal pole, watching the man stand to his feet, “This is the fourth time Lyla!” He growled.
“I told you, it’s still in the prototype stage.” She retorted.
“And I-“ He sees you, badly hiding behind the pole.
“…Hi?” You wave.
“Lyla, is this?”
“Yep, this universe’s Spider-Man, or Spider-Woman.” She corrected.
“I’m-“ His nose scrunches, “Is this a bad time?”
“What?”
He points to his eyes, “They’re red.”
“Oh! Um, it’s fine. Everything is fine.” You lie, rubbing your eyes and probably making them worse, “It was taken care of.”
He hums, “Then, I’m Miguel O’Hara and I’m Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man? But I thought I was the only one.” You began to circle him, “But your suit is very… Blue.”
“Thanks. As I was saying, I am Spider-Man but from another universe. I need you to come with me.”
“Why should I go with you?” You eye him up and down.
“I’ve seen what happened here. How your parents are disappointed in you. All I am asking you is to trust me, I offering you a chance for a new chance.” He sticks his hand out, “So?”
That was almost a year ago…
“I can look after Mayday for you.” You tell Peter B. who looks very tired.
“Are you sure?” He tiredly asked.
“Of course, go and get some rest.” Taking Mayday in your arms and pushing him away, “Looks like it’s me and you today!”
She coos at you, reaching toward your face, “How about we pay Uncle Miggy a visit? Wouldn’t that be fun?” She giggles in response, “Let’s go then.” Holding her tightly, not wanting to swing with her arms.
Miguel’s eyes are focused on the screen, hearing his daughter’s laughter made him heartache.
“Miguel!” You shout from below, “Care to come down?! I rather not have her fall!”
He’s fast to close the screen and lowering his desk or… The desk is down on the ground. A minute later, it hits the ground and he turns to face you.
“Yes?” He rubs his eyes.
“Tired as well?”
“No.”
“Lies!” You come closer, taking a seat on the floating thing, “Come on, sit with me.” Setting Mayday on the ground, luckily her web shooter was taken away recently.
Miguel does as you say, “Is something wrong?” He asked.
“I just wanted to talk to you, is that wrong?”
“No, no. It’s just you sounded worried at first. I thought something happened.”
You run your fingers through her hair carefully, “You’re doing it again, shutting everyone out by shoving yourself into work.”
Miguel sighs, “I told you, the fate of the multiverse-“
“Let’s not talk about work right now.” You use your webbing to bring the paper bag towards you, “I know sweets are not your thing so I brought an empanada with me.”
Two cupcakes and an empanada. One for you and Mayday. You hand the empanada to Miguel who gladly takes it.
Then hand a cupcake to Mayday, “Please eat it carefully.” You beg her, knowing either way it’s going to be a mess.
Before you could even take a bite out of yours, she begins climbing you with her sweet still in hand which makes some of the fostering go on you.
“Mayday!” You laugh, and she sets herself on your shoulders, eating her cupcake, “At least she’s happy.” Finally, you take a bite of yours, not noticing Miguel’s stare.
His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, and his breathing staggered. His heart once again broke at the sight. He didn’t know what to feel, what to say, or do.
“Miguel? Are you alright?” You gently pull Mayday off your shoulders and back to the ground, “You haven’t taken a bite.”
“Yeah.” He’s trying so hard to keep himself together, “I’m alright.”
Then a few weeks pass… or so you thought.
“This was his fault!”
“He was just trying to help!”
“Help?! Look where it put her!”
Whose voice was whose? Why does everything feel so heavy? Why… Why is it so dark?
“Miguel! Calm down!”
“Enough! Both of you leave the room.” Jessica orders, “She’s waking up.”
“No, I want to be here.” Miguel tried to stay.
“You’ll see her after you calm down, now go.” Jessica watched until she was sure they were gone.
You open your heavy eyes, wincing at the light in the room, “Jessica?”
“Welcome back. Took your time.”,
“What happened?”
“You went out and followed Gwen to Pavitr’s universe, and so did Miles and Hobie. But everything went haywire, and the ground under you collapsed. You fell a good number of floors. Hobie brought you back.” She explained.
“Miles… Where is he?”
“That’s not my place to say. I know Miguel is waiting outside, I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Thanks, Jessica.”
She leaves and Miguel practically runs in, taking the seat next to your bed.
“…Hi.” You say, sitting up.
“How are you feeling?” Miguel asked.
“Tired, confused… Not sure how to feel after but-“
“(Y/n), you’ve been unconscious for a few weeks. You didn’t just fall, you went in after I told you no.”
“You know I’m not going to stand by.”
“But none of this would’ve happened if you just stayed and done what I told you.”
“Why do you care? I thought your focus was on the multiverse?”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“But why?”
“Because-!” He takes a deep breath, “…I can’t lose another daughter. I never told you what happened but you know that I lost her. I wanted you to stay to the side all these times because every time I look at you, you’re so much like her. Losing you would be the day I snap.”
“I’m… Sorry that I remind you of her. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You whisper.
“I know you didn’t, and I’m just happy that you’re happy.”
You smile, “Can I say something?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
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3K notes · View notes
muchosbesitos · 7 months
Text
falling behind
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pairing: college!miguel x inexperienced spanish speaking fem reader (translation provided 🫡)
warnings: established fake relationship (i honestly mixed like three tropes into this) and oral (f receiving)
author’s note: this was somewhat inspired by ‘falling behind’ by laufey (highly recommend 🙏🏼) and a lil bit by the spanish love deception. anyways i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope y’all enjoy :3
word count: 4.6K
You always seemed to be behind when you compared your life to your classmates' lives, almost like you were sitting in the backseat waiting for your life to begin. A part of you secretly wanted what they had: to get asked out, to experience teenage dating, but you never had the courage to seek out and go get it. Sure, your family made some smart remarks about how your cousins were already dating but you pushed those away since you didn't want to make a big deal. You honestly thought that it wouldn't come back to bite you until you got back home from your class one day.
You got back home from your chemistry class to see your roommate, Miguel O’Hara, hunched over at the kitchen table reading some envelopes. You set your bag down on the couch and walk over to the table, sitting down next to him. "Hey, anything good come in the mail?" You asked, visibly startling him as he looked up at you. "Just our utility bills. Oh, and you got something from back home," he responded, handing you an envelope with your sister's name on the sender address. You wanted to put off reading the letter, but you decided to bite the bullet instead.
"Ah fuck," you mumbled, holding up the wedding invitation as you let out a small sigh. "C'mon think of all the leftovers you could bring," Miguel suggested, raising his hands up in defense when you looked over at him. "I'll probably just say I'm sick or something," you spoke, more so to yourself as Miguel’s brows furrowed. "It's just, if all my aunts and whatnot see me at the wedding without someone, they're gonna start commenting on it. How I'm the only one alone," you explained, hoping that it would ease the confusion on Miguel’s face.
"So I'll be your fake boyfriend for the night," he suggested, like he was asking what type of cereal he should get. Your brows furrowed as you sat down at the table, folding your arms. "What about your girlfriend? Dana? or Xina? Whichever one you're dating now," you countered, looking up at him. "Well.. That's actually where you come in. Dana broke up with me so I was kinda hoping that if she saw me and you together, she'd come back," he replied, sitting down across from you.
"And what about if this blows up in our face and I end up homeless, Mig?"
"First of all, this isn't gonna blow up in our face. And second of all, I think we can separate our façade away from our home life."
"You're forgetting I've never dated anyone. I have zero idea how this all works."
"I'll teach you about what to do. Plus, you'll be able to have some experience when you actually do date someone."
You wanted to continue arguing with Miguel, tell him how farfetched this idea sounded but it seemed like for every argument you had, he had a counterattack. Your mind couldn't help but race with everything that could possibly go wrong with this arrangement, but you decided to trust Miguel’s confidence in it. "Since it'll be beneficial for the both of us, okay," you said after a moment of deliberation, extending your hand out. "Are we in the mafia or something?" he muttered, rolling his eyes as you glared at him and shook your hand. You were expecting him to pull away after a while, seeing how resistant he was to it but he didn't. He simply stroked your hand with his thumb, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Our first lesson's handholding," Miguel elaborated and you were about to explain how you didn't need his help but he interrupted you. "Look, I know you know how to do it. But you would've started to overthink if I told you beforehand," he stated, keeping your hand with his.
The next few weeks before the wedding had been pretty uneventful, you had been telling Miguel about your family members and which ones to look out for and he had been teaching you all the basic parts of being in a relationship. The two of you were currently sitting at a Starbucks, helping each other study for a chemistry exam when you heard Miguel’s name being called from behind you. "Migs! I haven't seen you in such a long time, how are you?" Dana asked once she appeared in sight, completely ignoring you as she went to go stake her claim. "I've been good. Been busy with my girlfriend and all," he replied, his gaze locked on you as he smiled. You could've sworn that Dana's eyes turned into little daggers as she faced you. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!" Dana decided to say, starting to talk about some frat party she wanted to take Miguel to.
You couldn't help but notice that the entire time that Dana was talking to Miguel and batting her lashes at him, he kept his gaze solely on you. You decided to push it off, assuring yourself that he was doing that to make her jealous. "I thought the whole point was to get her back, why didn't you agree to the frat party?" You asked when Dana left, taking a sip from your coffee as his brows furrowed. "Oh, the frat party, yeah. I mean, she says she wants to spend time with me but who gets back together at a party, y'know?" He responded, shrugging before going back to his school work. You decided not to push the subject any further and continued to study with Miguel.
You and Miguel had spent the following weeks going on study dates or just little dates between the two of you that didn't feel like research anymore. Eventually, the wedding approached the two of you and you were pacing in your living room. Miguel stood at the corner of the room, watching as you talked to yourself and freaked out. "What if this goes all wrong? I’m gonna be such an idiot," you muttered to yourself, continuing to walk around the living room. You didn't notice when Miguel walked over, placing his hands on your shoulders as he held you still. "Hey, calm down, you're gonna make a hole in the floor. On a serious note though, you're not gonna look like an idiot. We rehearsed this through and through and you're a natural when it comes to being affectionate," he remarked, massaging your shoulders gently.
You took a few seconds to calm down and stop your pacing, wrapping your hands tightly around Miguel’s body. "Thank you. For getting me out of my head and for even agreeing to this shenanigan," you spoke up after Miguel wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body in his. "Don't worry about it. Go get dressed and we'll get going. We don't wanna miss the food," he replied, pulling back from the hug as he smiled reassuringly at you. "And what's wrong with what i'm wearing?" You asked, a brow raised as you referred to the Spider-Man pajamas you were wearing. "Nothing, but I just think those pajamas should be reserved for my eyes only, mm?" He responded, winking at you as you rolled your eyes.
You put on the dress that you picked out with Miguel a couple days ago, the material fitting around you snugly. You sat in front of the mirror, following the makeup tutorial your sister had sent you. You were in the middle of doing your eyeliner when suddenly you poked your eye. "Motherfucker!" You grumbled, putting your hand against your eye as you felt it watering. Miguel walked in after hearing your yell, stopping in his tracks when he took a glimpse at you. "I know it looks bad but I'll be ready in about thirty minutes," you assured him, wiping off the smudged mascara as you suppressed the urge to groan. "Bad isn't necessarily the word I would have used," he mumbled, leaning against the door frame.
"Maybe you're taking too much at one time. Makeup's a journey and shit, so just do what you know how to do while you get better at the other stuff," he suggested, rubbing small circles on your back. You looked at him through the mirror, nodding as you took off your makeup to start fresh. "I don't know how you always do that. Say all the right things to make me feel better, i mean," you admitted, deciding to turn off the makeup tutorial and go by what with Miguel said. Miguel lingered by the door frame, crossing his arms together as he watched you do your makeup before eventually going off to get dressed himself.
You and Miguel arrive at the reception hall at a pretty decent hour, since it wasn't too early but the caterers were barely starting to pass out the food. You jump a little when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to face your mom. She leaned in, kissing you on the cheek as she embraced you. "Hola mami, ¿cómo estás?" you greet her, watching as her eyes immediately drift over to the man next to you. (hi mommy, how are you?) "Bien ¿y tú? ¿Y quién es este?" she asked, cutting the formalities short to find out what she needed to know. (good and you? and who’s this?)
"Este es mi novio, Miguel." (this is my boyfriend, Miguel)
"Ay mija, pero que guapo esta. Y que alto, casi llega al techo. ¿Porque no me lo habías presentado?" (oh daughter, he’s so handsome. and he’s so tall, he almost reaches the roof. why haven’t you presented him to me?)
You were about to speak up when Miguel suddenly cut you off, extending his hand towards your mom. "Un placer, señora. Y bueno, usted sabe como es su hija y lo tanto que le gusta ser privada," he responded, your mom’s eyes widening a bit. (a pleasure ma’am. and well, you know your daughter and how much she likes being private) "Un placer también. Usted es mas aceptable que el poster que ella le daba besos," your mom remarked, laughing as Miguel joined her. (a pleasure too. you are more acceptable than the poster she used to kiss) You grabbed his hand, pulling him away to avoid any other embarrassments. "You kissed a poster?" Miguel asked in between laughter, wiping at some imaginary tears from his eyes. "We're never speaking of this again," you grumbled, watching as his eyes sparkled with your reaction, laughing even harder. "I'm never dropping this."
Your mom pulled you and Miguel over to the table where all your aunts were so you'd say hello and make pleasantries with them. You could tell they wanted to say something about Miguel, surprised to see you here in public with a man by your side but they chose to bite their tongue back. Well, all but one. "¿Y tu eres su novio?" One of your least liked aunts asked Miguel, pointing a fork at his direction. (and you’re her boyfriend?) "Si señora. Apenas empezamos con la relacion pero la quiero mucho," he responded, looking at your aunt as she laughed. (yes ma’am. we just started with the relationship but i like her a lot) "Pero que bueno. Pensábamos que se iba morir virgen la pobre," she remarked, her eyes glinting with amusement as your other aunts laughed. (oh, how good. we thought the poor girl was going to die a virgin.)
You were used to these kinds of remarks and you knew that it was best to keep your mouth shut and let them glide through. "Disculpe señora, con todo respeto, pero a usted ¿que le importa? ¿Es que no tiene vida para andarse preocupando de lo que ella hace? Lo que usted deberia estarse preocupando es sobre su marido," Miguel replied, keeping his tone even as he grabbed your hand. (excuse me ma’am, with all respect, but what do you care? do you not have anything else going on in your life to be worrying about what she’s doing? what you should be worrying about is your husband.)
You and Miguel sat in the car at the venue parking lot as he stroked your hand softly. "I'm sorry if I stepped a line in there. It's just.. What does she even care about who you're dating or what you're doing?" He spoke up after a couple seconds, looking directly at your eyes. "I really appreciate you doing that, Miguel. Every time I tell my mom about it, she takes their side and tells me to keep quiet about it. I mean, yeah, they're probably never gonna wanna talk to me but that's cool," you said with a small laugh, meeting Miguel’s gaze. he tilted your chin towards him, his lips meeting against yours tentatively.
His touch was featherlight as he leaned into kiss you, almost like he was scared you weren't going to reciprocate. You felt your heart beat hammering as you tried to recall the kissing techniques you'd seen in YouTube videos, shutting your eyes as you leaned in. "Ow," you mumbled, opening your eyes to find out that you accidentally bumped into Miguel’s nose. "It's okay, chiquita. I know it's your first time," he assured you, holding your cheek as he tilted his face to the side. (little one) "Just keep your eyes open until our lips connect and then just follow what I'm doing, don't overthink it," he told you, leaning in once more to kiss you.
The moment you felt your lips connect against his felt like fireworks, even if it was a little awkward. Your lips were stiff as he kissed you, unsure of what to do before you remembered his advice and decided to follow his lead. You felt comfortable shutting your eyes so you did, your hands reaching up to his hair like you wanted to pull him closer. You'd heard from your friends about their first kiss stories, how it was an awkward clash of lips but it felt more like a synchronized dance with Miguel. He deepened the intensity of the kiss when he felt that you were comfortable, his hand moving to your cheek in doing so.
You two pulled away a couple seconds later to catch your breath, the realization that you'd not only kissed your fake boyfriend but your roommate hitting you hard. You could've sworn that Miguel read your mind because he said, "I saw someone coming out the door and I figured we might as well sell it since they were looking this way." A fiber of your being hoped that your first kiss wouldn't have ended up as just something to prove, but you knew that it would lead you to uncharted territory with Miguel so you nodded along.
The ride home was mostly quiet, the music on the radio filling up the atmosphere. You thanked Miguel once more for helping you with the wedding dilemma before locking yourself up in your room. You didn't have the energy to figure out what was happening between the two of you and quite frankly, you thought you were probably being delusional, thinking too hard about things that would be normal in a fake relationship. You pushed those thoughts away as you changed out of the dress, hoping that you'd be able to get some peace of mind.
After a couple minutes of tossing and turning on your bed, you decided to go talk to Miguel since you had a feeling you wouldn't get some clarity until you did. You knocked on his door, hesitantly, as you swayed from foot to foot while you waited for his answer. Your jaw almost touched the floor when he opened the door, wearing no shirt and a low-clinging pair of grey sweatpants. You had to force yourself to look up at him when he let out a small cough, noticing the glasses he had on. "Is there something you needed?" He asked, a brow arched as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. In your defense, you tried really hard not to look, but it was impossible to resist the way he biceps flexed when he did that. "You."
Your eyes widened as you realized what had come out of your mouth, Miguel’s face one of amusement as he started to laugh. "What I meant to say was, I wanted an explanation from you. What did that kiss mean tonight?" you asked, a brow raised as you folded your arms. "I told you chiquita, to sell it to the person walking out of the party," he spoke, but you noticed that his eyes wouldn't meet yours. You pressed your lips together but decided not to push it any further, walking away. You turned around when Miguel grabbed your arm, he looked like he wanted to say something more. "I want more than just kisses with you." Your mind began going haywire at what he was saying but what you managed to blurt out was, "Because we're fake dating?"
Miguel let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. "No, not because we're fake dating," he spoke up after a while, tilting your chin up. "I want more than just kisses with you too," you told him, watching as his eyes darkened a bit. "I'm not gonna sleep with you until you're certain that my feelings for you are real. None of this fake dating shit," he whispered, leaning in as he kissed your cheek. You felt a bit disappointed as he spoke, but you realized where he was coming from though that didn’t stop the desire igniting in you. "I need you, Miguel."
Miguel let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted on what to do. "Lay down on the bed, chiquita," he finally relented and you laid down on the bed, awaiting for his next move. He set down his glasses on his bedside table before he laid down next to you, his hand moving to your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you. He continued doing that until you two were a panting, breathless mess and he played with the hem of your sleep pants. "Are you okay if we go further?" He asked, not wanting to intimidate you by doing too much too soon. "Y-Yeah," you whispered, wishing your voice sounded more affirmative than breathy, but you felt overwhelmed by everything Miguel was doing.
He slowly took off your pajama pants so he'd be able to stop himself if you got uncomfortable at any point before he settled in between your legs. Before you got a chance to ask what he was doing, he began kissing his way from your calf to your inner thigh. He gently nipped at the skin, his teeth grazing it slightly as he continued with his movements. He hooked his arms underneath your legs, putting them on his shoulders before leaning in to your clothed pussy. You felt embarrassed by how much wetness had accumulated since he'd barely even kissed you but that was quickly pushed aside when Miguel started to lick you through your underwear.
He slid off your panties after a while of you wiggling to get more from him, his lips curled in amused smirk as he took them off. He started off slow, collecting the slick that was clinging to your folds before delving in. He ate you out like a man starved and you couldn't help but moan out at the strange sensations. He let you close your thighs around his head, letting out soft grunts into your pussy as you tightened around him. The vibrations from his mouth shot straight to your spine, making your back arch from the bed. He held you still as he started to suck on your folds.
His mouth enclosed around your clit, looking up at you as he flicked his mouth. "Keep your eyes on me," he whispered when he saw you looking away, slowing down his movements. He continued once more once your eyes met his, having you watch as he kept his mouth connected with your clit. He took one of his fingers, gently probing them inside before sticking it in. he curled his finger, making way to stroke your g-spot with every movement. "So tight," he spoke against your clit, putting another finger in as he started moving them in a scissoring motion. Your mouth parted into a 'o' shape as he continued, overwhelmed by the sensation. His two fingers curled, finding your g-spot as they brushed up against it every time he thrust his fingers in.
You pulled on his hair, pushing your pelvis closer to his mouth, almost drowning him with your pussy. And you could tell that he wouldn't have minded it that much with the way he groaned in your pussy, slurping the juices that were leaking out. You felt a strange sensation building in your lower stomach, like a knot just waiting to unravel. "Mig! Stop, I'm gonna pee," you blurted out, feeling a bit embarrassed by the admission. You had expected Miguel to slow down but he continued with the same vigor, if not, only more motivated. The knot unraveled in you quickly and you released against miguel's face, feeling embarrassed at the thought you might've peed on him. He took his fingers out, sucking your juices off them as he looked straight into you. "You didn't pee on me, don't worry," he assured you, grabbing a wet wipe to clean you up.
You and Miguel had been threading a delicate line throughout the course of a week, only talking to each other when it came to basic chores and what to get for dinner. You were in the middle of doing classwork on the dining table when Miguel came over, sitting on the chair across from you. "Hey, I know things have been weird between us, but do you still want to head to that Halloween party with me?" He asked, reminding you of the Halloween party that he'd asked about two weeks ago. "Well I already have the costume, so it'd be a shame not to," you responded, not willing yourself to look up at him. Partly from the fact that you weren't sure where your late night rendezvous left you and from the fact that you'd looked up porn after that night, using Miguel as the object of your fantasies when you got yourself off.
You came back from your classes about five hours later and you noticed that Miguel was in his room blasting music, probably getting ready for the Halloween party so you decided to do the same. You managed to find a simple makeup tutorial for the bruises you were doing, given that you and Miguel were going as Tyler and the Narrator from Fight Club. You put on the suit and grabbed some of the bars of soap that Miguel had gotten for the two of you before stepping out of your room. "Hey, do you think you can help me with the bruises? I just can't get them to look realistic, y'know?" Miguel asked when he came out of his room, the bruises on his face looking like blotches of purple.
You had Miguel sit down while you blended the colors in his face, trying not to pay mind to just how much it affected you having him this close to you. You finished up a little while later and grabbed some fake blood, dabbing it in with your finger around his mouth and the cut you'd made on his cheek. "Has anyone told you how good you look covered in blood?" You asked absentmindedly as Miguel burst out into laughter. "Must be why everyone was so eager to help me out after a fight in high school," he replied, standing up once you finished. He thanked you for the work you'd done and you two quickly headed out to the dorms.
The party was in full swing when you two arrived and you couldn't help but notice that a lot of people were coming to say hi to Miguel. You'd always pictured him as the quiet genetics student, but seeing him out in public with his friends was a decent experience. You'd half expected him to leave you to go entertain them, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the back where there was more space to talk. "If at any point you want to leave, just let me know and we'll go, okay?" He told you, waiting for you to nod in affirmation before he took you to hang out with his friends.
He introduced you as his girlfriend, which struck you as odd since you would've thought he'd tell them about your arrangement, but you liked the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. His friends were nice enough, they included you in the conversation and they were pretty nice to talk to overall. "So how long have you two been dating?" One of his friends asked, looking over at you. You looked up at Miguel for help and luckily, he answered that plea. "We've been dating for about two months now, I'd say. But I've been liking her for a bit longer than that," he replied with a small laugh, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beating faster at his comment. Even if it was something he added to make the story sound more believable, you wanted to believe so badly that he actually liked you.
The rest of the party was spent in a blur of talking with his friends, dancing, and getting shots. Even when you stopped by to get shots, Miguel’s gaze never left yours. You could've sworn that you saw his fists clench up when a guy in a Spider-Man costume tried to talk to you, but as soon as you blinked, it was gone so you decided to push it away. You excused yourself to the bathroom a little after, and Miguel insisted on helping you find your way through the large house. His friends had a weird look on their face but you didn't question it too much out of the need to pee.
You came out of the restroom and you were a little surprised when you noticed that Miguel hadn't stayed behind to wait for you. You walked down the large hallway, stopping when you saw Miguel walking into one of the rooms with a girl in a devil costume. You decided to look through the creak in the door, seeing what Miguel was up to and quickly came to the realization that it wasn't just a girl in a devil costume. It was Dana and she had her arms all around miguel. "Please miguel, I've missed you so bad and I can tell that you do too. Come on, you can't seriously be happy with that inexperienced virgin?"
You decided to leave the party after witnessing Dana talk to Miguel, feeling a burning sensation in your chest. You knew that this was the whole objective of the arrangement that you and Miguel had going on, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much when it ended. You'd grown used to being miguel's 'girlfriend' and spending time with him, that you hadn't anticipated it would come to an end so soon. You locked yourself up in your room, feeling completely angry at yourself for being so foolish about the circumstances as you scrubbed away the makeup of the night. You were thinking about what to do about healing the burning you felt in your chest, listening to Frank Ocean and having a good cry seemed like the best one, when you heard a knock on your door.
You opened your bedroom door, seeing Miguel standing there with a solemn look on his face. "Hey, I heard what Dana told you earlier. I bet you're happy that she came back to you so i think we should end this. I'll find someone else and.. use the experience you taught me," you told him, attempting to muster a smile as his gaze darkened. "You're not gonna do that, okay?" He responded, his brows furrowing as he spoke. "And why not?" you asked, feeling your own smile falter as he spoke.
"Because I don't want you to find anyone else."
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Text
In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo
John Price X Reader
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death
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Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.
It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.
“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.
“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.
“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.
It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.
No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.
You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.
It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.
It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.
Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.
“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.
You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.
Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.
Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.
Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.
The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots. 
The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person! 
“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.
“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.
“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.
“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.
The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.
“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.
The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.
“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.
It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.
“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups. 
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.
“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.
“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.
Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.
Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.
“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.
“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl. 
The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink. 
The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.
Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.
“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.
“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.
“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.
“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.
Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.
You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.
It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.
“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.
“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.
Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.
“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.
You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?
Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.
“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.
The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.
“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.
You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.
“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.
They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.
“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.
The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.
“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.
Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.
“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.
“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?
“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.
The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.
“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.
You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.
“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.
Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.
Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?
“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.
“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.
They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?
The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.
“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.
“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.
“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.
Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.
“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.
He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.
“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.
Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.
That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.
“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.
“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?
“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.
Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.
“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.
You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.
“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.
“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.
“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.
“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.
The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.
Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.
“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.
“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!
“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.
“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.
Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.
—---------
You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.
“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.
Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.
Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.
“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.
“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.
He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.
—-----
No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.
“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.
You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain. 
Oh.
Oh.
This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.
“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.
John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.
“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.
“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.
“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.
John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.
“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.
“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.
“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.
John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.
You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.
“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?
“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.
Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
Note
could i request teacher!reader with hotch? like maybe she’s jacks teacher
thank you for your request! fem!reader, 1.2k
You're a teacher: you're always tired. Overworked, underpaid, everybody knows how it goes. And maybe you've let yourself go because you don't have any real material hopes for the future beyond getting Macy Danish to read at a first grade level, but how were you supposed to know that Jack Hotchner's father would be so overwhelmingly attractive? It's not fair. 
He's handsome though older than you'd been expecting, but that isn't the cut and dry of it. When he comes in, it's alone, in a well-fitted suit. He's tall and remarkably dark-eyed, shaking your hand without trying to impose any authority, as some of the fathers tend to do, and when you call him Mr. Hotchner, he says, "Aaron, please," but continues to call you Ms. L/N.
"Aaron," you say, pulling your skirt under your thighs as you sit down. You're dressed in nice clothes for the parent-teacher conferences, but you could've covered your sleeplessness better. "Jack is the nicest boy in class. He's actually my loveliest kid. Um…" You search through your notes for the preliminary assessment of Jack. "Sorry, two seconds." 
"Take your time. I know what it's like to dig through a mountain of paperwork every day." 
"Jack mentioned you work in the government, he calls you a special agent," you say, smiling. "You get the bad guys." 
"I am a special agent. Supervisory." Aaron is conscientious enough to pretend he doesn't notice your surprise. "I'm chief of the behavioural analysis unit." 
You can't even begin to guess what that entails. "Oh," you say breathlessly. 
"I understand that it sounds fantastical." 
"It sounds impressive," you say, floundering to correct yourself. Behavioural analysis? It must be obvious to him how nervous he's making you, then, and when you realise that, you get worse. "I'm so sorry about this. I should be more organised. I usually am." 
"That's alright. Take your time." 
Does he always speak that way? His voice is like fucking silk? Is he messing with you?
You yank the notes you made for Jack from the pile and flatten them across the desk. "Okay, sorry. Like I was saying, Jack is really the nicest kid, him and his friend Molly. They're both lovely, and teachers shouldn't have favourites, please don't tell the other parents, but they're my favourites." You smile at him quickly and return your eyes to the paper. The words swim in front of your eyes. "Jack can read better than you could ever hope for a first grader, he's immensely intelligent for his age group. He's patient. He'll explain anything to anyone if they ask him too, and he does it well." 
"I'm glad to hear that," he says, again so softly. 
You pick up one of your skinny biros to have something to fidget with. He's a very good looking man, but you're a good teacher. You can focus on what to say. Some parents need good things only. Some need reassurement that they're doing a good job. Aaron is harder to read, but you know what he needs, too. 
"He can be lonely," you say, looking him in the eye. "I don't think that that's down to any fault. I'm sure you know better than I do why he might feel that way." You know about his mom's passing over a year ago. You've seen grief in children too many times. "He… I understand if this isn't okay with you, but he eats lunch with me sometimes. I encourage him to sit with his peers, of course, but I think he runs out of energy pretty quickly." 
Aaron nods thoughtfully. His brows quirk into a furrow that you're afraid is directed at you. 
"I don't think he necessarily has trouble connecting with his friends." 
"What do you think?" 
"I think something awful happened to your family, and Jack will feel it for the rest of his life, but that it won't stop him from being great. It already isn't. And… he clearly has a father who loves him and who he admires. You're his second favourite topic." 
"What's his first?" he asks. 
"He's really into Fruity Fridays," you say with a laugh. "I bring in fruits you don't get often in America. Someone would've had to sign a form." 
"No, I remember signing it. He likes that?" His smile is golden. "I can't get him to try new things." 
"He had all the leftover gold kiwi last week." You rub your lips together. Time is ticking. You have nearly thirty parents to see tonight, but talking to Mr. Hotchner has been so normal. He's a regular person in a sea of inattentive helicopter narcissists. It's a relief and a half to meet him and know a kid as gentle as Jack is in good hands. "Mr. Hotchner, I have to tell you, I'm really relieved to meet you." 
"Aaron," he corrects.
Your tone drops too low. "Aaron." 
"I'm more than relieved," he says. "I knew that this year would be harder for him. I didn't know… I'm grateful to you, for being so kind with him." 
You look down at your notes, flushed from head to toe despite your airy skirt. Crossing your legs, you shake your head. "It's my job." 
"To let him take up the only break you get all day?" he asks. 
"It's not like that. Jack doesn't bother me." You fold your notes in half. "I can see his role model measures up." 
"I could say the same thing." 
The next time you see Jack, bright and early Monday mooring shepherded by his aunt Jessica, he's very happy to see you. You offer him a hug and pat his back when he wraps his arms around your hips. "Hello, Jack. Was your dad pleased with your drawings?"
Jack smiles at you. "I have a note for you." 
"You do? Can I see? Where is it, honey?" 
Jack takes off his backpack and pulls out the note and a tupperware container. "Oh, wow, did you make treats for the class? Jack, that's so nice!" 
"No. Dad said those are for you. He said you should have nice for nice, or something," Jack informs you. 
"You'll share with me, though? I can't eat them all by myself," you whisper. 
He nods with enthusiasm and runs off to put his backpack in his cubby and his coat on the hook. You look down at the cookies and note, which is actually an envelope. 
You open it with your thumbnail. The writing is Aaron's usual tight cursive.
Dear Miss L/N, 
I hoped to thank you again in person, but work makes that hard. I appreciate everything you do for Jack. There are teachers who work, and there are teachers who go above and beyond. I can feel confident anywhere in the country knowing Jack is being taught by the latter. 
Gratefully yours, 
Aaron Hotchner. 
P.S. Please don't feed Jack too many cookies. They're not for him. 
You keep the letter even if it's lame to do so. When is the next parent teacher conference, anyways?
2K notes · View notes
kaicubus · 9 months
Text
Dating Rodrick Heffley
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warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, cursing.
pairing ✩° : rodrick heffley x fem!reader
authors note ✩° : this is so random but i was on tik tok and i saw an edit of him and i was slapped in the face with this idea!! yiPEEEEE!!!! this is the content i intended on posting when everything settled.
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Your parents are convinced that Rodrick is a bad influence on you, and they're right. Being with Rodrick has changed you for the worst and for the better, he’s seen you at your lowest and your highest. But he’s proud of you no matter what happens. In fact, he’s your biggest supporter.
Being over after school every day means you bond really well with his family, and they love you since you seem to have a better influence on him than anything else. I mean, ever since you two started dating, he’s actually been doing his homework and his attendance has significantly improved. That being said, you are definitely a celebrity to Rodrick’s little brother and his friend, Greg and Rowley.
Speaking of the two, you're like their saving grace when it comes to shielding them from the teenage angst that is Rodrick—or in their eyes, the biggest bully they've ever encountered.
There have been many times where Greg tries explaining to you just how bad of a brother Rodrick is, but he never gets farther than a few words before Rodrick slams the door in his face or spills some drink he’s holding onto him.
He’s not that open to listening to your kind of music (if it’s drastically different than the kind of stuff he would listen to) but in secret...in secret he kicks his feet and twirls around imagining you doing the same thing to all the lyrics. He’s a cutie patootie when he’s not being a resentful menace.
Despite that, you spend most of your after school days in Rodrick’s bedroom, garage, or his van just talking about things or listening to him play. He plays a kind of music you never thought you’d listen to before, but have grown to like because not only does he have CDs of all his songs burned into them, but plays other music similar to that genre.
He makes multiple efforts to teach you the guitar with you on his lap and the guitar pressing you both together, but all those times Greg comes in because he wants to try and get on your good side.
If you're not there at band practice, like how you normally are, Rodrick makes all these mistakes and fumbles with playing. Since you're the designated band girlfriend, it’s pretty much a necessity for you to be around him when he practices, otherwise he gets nothing done. Sometimes it’s a problem, but for the most part, you’re like his buff.
Rodrick’s banned from your house because he tried sneaking in your room through your window, but he ended up landing on your mom��s patch of freshly bloomed flowers. When she found out, she wasn’t happy, and even though she tried so hard to excuse his looks, his lack of direction, his rebellious nature, she just couldn’t excuse the sad death of her flower children. So she banned him. Now you guys have to meet in secret or at school or his house, just anywhere not near your house.
He still makes an awkward effort to get your parents to like him, but it never really works out. He either shows up late or shows up with half his clothes missing or drenched in strange fluids because of pranks pulled by his little brother on his way out.
“Mrs. and Mr. L/n—”
“Lime green paint...on my white porch. Can you believe it, honey?”
“Just go, kid.”
“Alright!”
He gives you rides to and from school in his janky ass van, but it’s your only form of transportation so you don’t complain. Everything pretty much happens in that van. Everything.
His form of PDA is wrapping an arm around you loosely and just walking with you, not so much holding your hand. He also really likes just resting his arm on your head or squishing your cheeks together to make funny faces even if it pisses you off sometimes, he thinks it’s cute.
Free band dates!! Meaning that, you get free access to Löded Diper gigs, and the best seats watching your boyfriend and his band mates thrash around. You also get free merch...teehehehehe...
Oddly enough, Rodrick ends up turning soft for you and doing things no one in his family would expect out of him. Like taking you out on drive in dates, or getting you flowers, or just smiling more. Not saying he’s emo or edgy, but he is pretty punkish and reluctant to show any sort of affection. It certainly is off putting to Greg at least. 
He asks you to do his eyeliner because you have an unlimited supply of it, and at least he doesn't have to use his mom’s anymore. People can usually tell when you do his eyeliner and when he does it himself; it’s pretty easy to differentiate.
If Rodrick doesn't want to be someplace and is dragged along by his family, the mere mention of you attending the same event makes him suddenly excited to be there. More excited than the planner. He’ll go on tangents about you, and it really doesn’t matter who’s listening. He looks all bad and mean, but as soon as someone talks about you, his face changes completely.
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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months
Text
Arrowhead Jr ||One Shot
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!
Summary: Daryl has baby fever
This was a request on my old blog: "ever since i saw daryl holding baby judith ive dreamt about him having absolute baby fever w reader and after babysitting him pestering reader about one?"
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Profanity, birth, babies, mostly fluffy
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        "Check this out." Daryl said excitedly, holding up a camo onesie he found. You were on a small run with a few others in search of some new clothes for little Judith, since she had outgrown most of the ones she had. 
        "This is for newborns." You told him, taking the tiny outfit out of his hands.
        "I know.." He shrugged, taking it back and setting it down. 
        "Oh, god. Don't start." You begged. "Not again."
        You had been with him since the prison, after Woodbury fell. You were one of the many refugees Rick had taken in after the town fell apart, and the archer took a liking to you from the beginning. You guessed it was partially due to your friendship with his morally-gray brother before his unfortunate passing, but it was mostly just because you were you. He loved you for it. However, recently, with the safety of Alexandria's walls, he somehow caught one of the scariest diseases; Baby Fever. Especially after the two of you spent a day watching her so Rick could work and Carl could go do normal teenager things for a change.
        "Not startin' nothin." He mumbled.
        "No, but you're doing that thing again!" You argued.
        "What?" He shrugged.
        "That! The sad face and the--"
        "That place is perfect." He explained. "The--"
        "I know, I know. The big walls and the pretty houses and the people and the--"
        "I see you with Judith. I see how you look at her, how you rub her nose to get her to fall asleep and all them lil songs ya sing when she cries."
        "So what are you saying?"
        "Just that we could." He admitted. 
        "Just 'cause we could doesn't mean we should." You sighed
        "I know that, it's just... I wanna."
        "Well that's easy to say when you don't have to carry and birth a child to get one." 
        "Forget it." He huffed.
        The rest of the trip was in silence, and not the comfortable kind you so often shared. You were both frustrated. Him, because ever since he held Judith for the first time, when he fed her that first meal she ever had and felt the rush of nurturing a crying, sweet little baby, a hole formed inside him and it grew bigger every day. He never could have seen himself as a family man before that moment, but ever since, it was a primal urge he couldn't resist. To love a woman, to father a child, to protect and provide for his own family. He had already achieved finding a woman worth his affections, which was you, of course, but he still didn't have his own family and it ate him up.
        Your frustrations were sourced elsewhere, though. For one, giving birth sounded absolutely terrifying, especially in a world lacking in hospitals, epidurals, prenatal and postpartum care. You could handle a fair amount of pain, but birth was an entirely different playing field. Not to mention the risks. You had heard what happened to Judith's mom. How could you risk that? How could he expect you to? And that was just the tip of the iceberg. What kind of world would this be for a child? What kind of life would it have? Alexandria was always too good to be true, and sooner or later something would happen, and you'd all be running for your lives again. It was only a matter of time, to you. To be pregnant would mean no more runs, no more fighting, none of the things that made you useful. You'd just be a big burden with swollen ankles.
        You didn't speak when you all arrived back home, or during dinner, or after. It wasn't until you went to take a shower, until you had already stripped down and stepped into the steamy stream of water. He had silently snuck into the bathroom, undressed, and surprised you by pulling the curtain aside and joined you. You had your back turned to him, allowing the water to rush over you and wash away your racing thoughts. He grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it in his hands until he was satisfied, then he began to wash you. You loved when he did that, it was one of your favorite affections he'd show. He always started by massaging your neck and shoulders, then your back, then your arms, and he'd turn you around and work on the front. With little explanation needed, that was his favorite part.
        "Can we at least think about it?" He finally asked, eyes and hands stationed on your bare skin as you watched his face.
        "We can think about it all we want but it doesn't change anything."
        "But this place is safe. And there's a doctor here. And-- Hell, this house alone is more than either of us could've given a kid before the world turned to shit." He argued. You sighed.
        "I just can't shake the feeling that none of this is permanent." You confessed. He stopped washing you for a moment, considering your concerns.
        "What else?" He asked.
        "What else what?"
        "The other reasons. What else?"
        "This place could fall."
        "Don't mean it will."
        "The doctor could die."
        "I'll make sure he don't."
        "There could be complications."
        "That's what the doctor's for."
        "I can't help on runs or fight or--"
        "Got plenty of people that can do that."
        You took a breath. Was he gonna have a rebuttal to each argument you made?
        "Well," you said, "pregnancy makes us crazy."
        "You're already crazy." He smirked. You rolled your eyes.
        "What about medicine? Epidural? You need and anesthesiologist for that and we don't have that which means I'll feel everything and it's gonna hurt!" You rambled. His smirk grew into an amused grin. "What?" You scoffed.
        "You're scared." He said.
        "So what if I am? I should be. You should be. I could die. The baby could die. It could die down the line when we can't protect it--"
        "Now you just insult me. I'd never let a damn thing happen to you or that kid." He snapped. You gritted your teeth together.
        "You can't control everything. What about childbirth? Women died during birth when there were teams of doctors and surgeons. What about now?"
        "You wont." He shook his head. 
        "Why would you want a baby with me anyways?" You groaned. "I don't even like kids!"
        "Now that's just lyin' to yourself, darlin'."
        "Is not!" 
        "Might've been able to convince me if you never let me see you with Lil Ass Kicker, but you're a natural."
        "Jesus. Are you gonna give our baby weird nicknames too?" You asked as the two of you switched sides in the shower so you could was him too.
        "Our baby?" He repeated. You eyes widened.
        "Hypothetically." You corrected. "Our maybe, hypothetical, improbable baby."
        "Nah, I was thinkin' Arrowhead Jr for ours."
        You couldn't help it, you laughed.
        "You're insane." You shook your head, massaging his shoulder with the suds.
        "Look," he sighed. "I'm not gettin' any younger and I want a family. I already got the girl, now I need the girl to have my babies."
        "Babies?!" You gawked. "How many do you expect me to have? I'm not a damn fetus factory I can't just spread my legs and pop them out on a fucking conveyor belt." 
        "I was thinkin' two."
        "Two." You repeated, hoping that hearing the word from someone else would wake him up, maybe make him understand how ludicrous he sounded.
        "Mhm." 
        Guess not.
        "Two!" You said again. "Two babies that you want me to grow and birth."
        "Yep."
        "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"
        "Yeah." He said, turning around to face you. "I'm askin' you to be the mother of my kids and spend the rest of your life with me."
        "Um, the rest of your life. Women live longer than men, statistically speaking."
        "Then think about it. Make the rest of my life mean somethin'."
        "Ugh." You growled. You really weren't going to win this one, no matter how hard you fought. "If you wanted kids so bad why didn't you find someone who had the same goal?"
        "Don't want no one else. Just you."
        "And a kid."
        "Two kids."
        "Let's start with one." You relented.
        He grabbed your face as soon as you spoke the words and kissed you excitedly.
        "Better start workin' on it then." He said, lifting you off the ground and pressing your back to the wall. Things only got steamier from there, and not because of the hot shower.
----
        "Shit!" You whispered, staring down at the third test you'd taken. "Shit shit shit shit!"
        To say it was panic would be an understatement. It was sheer terror. You guessed you knew this was coming but you weren't ready for it yet. The only solace you found was the fact that Daryl would be home soon, and you'd get to see his face light up when you handed him not one, not two, but three positive pregnancy tests.
        He came home shortly after you wiped your tears and pulled yourself together. You were in the kitchen making him a pot of coffee, one that you'd usually share. Yet another thing you wouldn't be able to do for the next nine months.
        You heard the door open, you heard him kick his boots off and set them by the door, and you heard him greet you as he entered the kitchen.
        "Hey." He said casually as you turned to hand him a steamy mug of black coffee, just how he liked it.
        "Hey." You replied, sitting down at the table across from where he took his usual seat. He gave you a weird look when he sat down. He could read you like an open book, and there was very obviously something going on with you that day.
        "No coffee?" He asked, taking a sip of his own. You shook your head. "You okay?" You shrugged. "Talk to me." He said.
        You decided to let him see for himself as you failed to form the words. You were terrified for a lot of reasons, but most of all your pride wouldn't let you say the words, because as much as you hated to admit it, you were also happy. You were happy to make him happy, and you were excited to have someone else to love.
        You reached in your pocket and set the first test on the table. He stopped blowing on his coffee and stared at it for a moment before looking back to you. Then, you set the second one down. He pushed his eyebrows together, either out of confusion or shock, you weren't sure. Then you slapped the third test down beside the first two. He set his coffee down and stood, leaning over them to examine them. You realized he probably didn't know what a single line versus a double line meant, so you gave him a second to read the tests before he reacted.
        The second it hit him it showed. His head snapped up at you, eyes wide.
        "F'real?" He asked quietly. You nodded once and he rushed over to your side, gripping your cheeks between his hands and kissing you over and over and over. You couldn't help but chuckle as you tried to push him back.
        "Oxygen, Daryl!" You giggled. "The baby needs to breathe!"
        "C'mon. We gotta go tell Carol. And Rick. And Glenn. And Maggie." He rambled on and on, adding names as they popped in his head while he pulled you to your feet and ushered you to the door.
        "Daryl!" You protested. "Wait I need shoes!"
---
        You could barely hear Carol as she coached you through pushing with each contraction. The pain was insane and Daryl's hand was probably broken after you had been squeezing it so hard. Denise, the new doctor after Rick may or may not have killed the last one, was also talking you through, sending encouraging words as the baby's head made an entrance.
        "Okay. Breathe. Breathe. One more big push." Carol cooed to your right as Daryl encouraged you from the left.
        "C'mon, (Y/N), you're kickin' ass." He said. Admittedly he spent most of the time it took you to get to this point silent, shock written all over his face. He had no idea how to help you through this, he realized, but he fed off Carol's energy and began to give small words of encouragement when he heard Denise say she could see the baby's head.
        When the next contraction hit, you screamed in agony, pushing with all your might, just like Carol told you. 
        "It's just like doing a sit up."
        You could feel when the baby was out, but you were so exhausted your head just fell back on the pillow as you caught your breath. It wasn't until you heard the baby cry that you looked down at Denise to see her wiping the baby clean and wrapping it in a blanket. She walked over and set the baby down on your chest. "Skin to skin contact is important." She told you, before looking over to Daryl. "For you too, if you want to take your shirt off."
        Daryl was too stunned, just watching in awe as you stared down at your crying newborn baby with admiration. It took him a minute, and a little nudge from Carol who had walked over to his side, before he snapped out of it and leaned in close to you. He got a good look at the baby before he asked, "Boy or girl?"
        "Boy." Denise smiled. She was ecstatic, having successfully aided in the birth of your child.
        "We have a son." Daryl laughed, although it was more of a happy cry. He wiped a tear from his eye as he stood up and removed his shirt, holding his arms out in hopes you'd let him hold his boy.
        "Yeah, we do." You grinned, giving your baby a kiss on the head before you passed him over to his father.  Daryl was breathless as he scooped the infant into his arms, bouncing him and whispering sweet nothings.
        "Hey, little Arrowhead." He laughed. He had called him that for the entire pregnancy.
        "I was thinking about naming him (name of your choice). What do you think?" You asked.
        He nodded and kissed little (baby name). 
        "Hey, (baby name). I'm your daddy."
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dc-marvel-life · 3 months
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Do Her Right
Pair: Jason x reader/platonic!Damian x reader 
Word Count: 608
Summary: Damian needs to have a talk with Jason about his newly founded-relationship 
A/N: I loved writing this one! Who doesn’t like protective Damian
---
You've been a part of the Bat Family since Dick was adopted by Bruce all those years ago. You met Dick at school and instantly became friends. You visited the manor almost every day.
As your friendship with Dick deepened, you discovered the family secret and promised never to tell a soul, a promise you've kept to this day.
Having known Dick from the beginning, you witnessed the family grow over the years. Everyone anticipated the day you and Dick would confess your love for each other and start dating, but that day never came. You only saw Dick as your best friend, and he saw you the same way.
However, this didn't bother anyone in the family much, especially Damian. Despite his outward demeanor, Damian harbored deep affection for you. He cherished the time you spent together, whether playing video games, watching movies, baking (a favorite pastime of Damian's), or simply hanging out.
Things took a turn when Jason began joining in on these activities. Initially, Damian didn't mind, as long as it didn't interfere with your "sister time."
But Damian's patience wore thin as he noticed you and Jason spending more time alone together. A few weeks later, it was revealed that you two were dating. While everyone else was happy for you, Damian couldn't hide his disappointment. He'd pout whenever he saw you with Jason, drawing your attention back to him with a forced smile.
Damian couldn't bear being sidelined in favor of Jason. He needed to address the situation immediately.
One evening, you were cuddling with Jason on the couch when Damian entered the room.
"Todd, I need to speak with you in my room, now," Damian said, his expression serious and arms crossed. You glanced at Jason, shrugged, and told him to go ahead. Jason sighed and followed Damian to his room.
"Please, have a seat," Damian gestured toward his bed.
"What's up, little devil? I was enjoying cuddling with my girlfriend," Jason said, clearly annoyed.
"That's precisely why we're here—to talk about your girlfriend," Damian replied, pacing the room. Jason raised an eyebrow, curious about Damian's intentions.
"Your girlfriend means a lot to me. Every time she's here, we bond over fun activities. She treats me like a little brother, and I feel loved. No one has ever done that for me. But things changed when you two started dating, and I haven't been able to spend as much time with her. I understand she's happy with you, surprisingly, but I need to set some ground rules. First rule: If you ever hurt her, I'll come after you with everything I've got, even where the Lazarus Pit can't bring you back. Understood?" Damian explained.
Jason nodded, smiling. He refrained from making any jokes, respecting Damian's genuine concern for you.
"Good. Now, the next rule is that I need to have alone time with her twice a week, without you. That's our time, and you can't be a part of it," Damian declared.
"The last rule is that you can't tell her any of this. Do we have a deal?" Damian extended his hand.
Jason shook Damian's hand firmly. "Deal."
"Do her right, Jason. She deserves the best," Damian said softly.
"I will, little devil. She deserves everything," Jason replied with a smirk.
"Now, let's head back downstairs before she gets suspicious," Damian said, leading the way. Damian settled on the couch beside you, snuggling into your left side. Jason followed suit, cuddling into your right side.
"Ah, my favorite boys," you said, kissing each of them on the forehead. Damian and Jason looked up at you, smiling.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
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We're Getting Married Now?
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!LAPD!reader
Summary: When Tim finds out you need a fake boyfriend to take to your cousin's wedding, he steps up and offers to go with you. After a night in his arms, you learn that his "boyfriend act" isn't just an act.
Warnings: I referenced a few lines from The Rookie (no spoilers though), a few vague mentions of insecurities and rude family members (they apologize). lots and lots of fluff!! one bed trope?
Word Count: 4.3k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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When your phone rings on the way to work, you don’t expect to see your aunt’s name on the caller ID. 
“Hello?” you greet. 
“Hey, sweetheart. I was going through the seating chart for your cousin’s wedding and seemed to have misplaced your RSVP,” she explains. 
“I, uh, I didn’t get an invite. She’s getting married?”
“Of course. You lot aren’t getting any younger, as I’m sure you know, and when she met her fiancé, well, I think we all knew. Anyway, you say you didn’t get an invite? Must’ve gotten lost in the mail, those incompetent kids aren’t as reliable as they used to be. I suppose that explains your lack of congratulations, though, which I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear.”
“I bet,” you mumble before asking, “So what do you need from me? Sorry to interrupt, but I’m nearly to work.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I suppose the wedding planning is making me a touch scatter brained. All I need from you is a confirmation that you are attending. It’s at her fiancé’s family orchard, I’ll send you the address. Everyone is coming out Friday evening and the wedding is Sunday afternoon.”
“Uh, yeah, I have this weekend off. I may be a bit later on Friday, but I’ll be there.”
“And I’ll assume you’re still single, so no plus one. Although, sweetie, you really shouldn’t let this discourage you. I’m sure you have plenty going for you and the right man is out there somewhere,” she says, lowering her voice as pity laces every word. 
“Actually, I’ll be bringing my boyfriend. If there’s room for one more, of course.”
The words come out before you can stop them, and after you slam your gear shift up and set your brake, you grip your steering wheel with both hands. 
“Boyfriend? Well, good for you, sweetheart, I didn’t want to seem insensitive before, but your clock is ticking! I will put you down for two then. Oh, one more thing-“
“I’m actually at work and can’t be late. I’ll see you Friday,” you rush out before ending the call. 
Hitting the back of your head against the headrest, you wonder who you can ask on such short notice. Getting a fake boyfriend is entirely avoidable, of course. You’d have to tell another lie about him being sick or dumping you or call your aunt and explain that her constant jabs at your lacking love life pushed you to speak without thinking. 
“That would go well,” you murmur as you gather the strength to get out of your car. 
She’d probably say something like, “Well then he just wasn’t the one,” before telling everyone that you did something to get dumped, or she’d remind you that you’re running out of time, it’s practically too late, so you should stop trying. You don’t mind being single, but she rips you apart, finding a way to make it your fault for being too busy with work, unwilling to compromise, or “looking too chubby in red.” (Her words.)
As you walk into the station and change into your uniform, you are struck with the perfect idea. 
“Nolan!” you call, rushing to his side before he can enter roll call. “I need a favor.”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he answers kindly. 
“Long story short I need a fake boyfriend to go to my cousin’s wedding or my aunt will expose me as a dirty rotten liar who can’t get a boyfriend.”
“Wow,” Nolan responds. “Does she really- never mind. When’s the wedding?”
“This weekend.”
“Bailey and I are going to San Diego to meet Henry for a few days. I’m so sorry, I’d help you if I could.”
“Yeah, no problem. Thanks anyway,” you tell Nolan while looking for someone else you can ask. “Aaron!”
Aaron turns in the doorway, stepping back toward you and Nolan with raised brows. 
“What’s up?” he asks. 
“I need a date, a fake boyfriend for a wedding this weekend.”
“I don’t do weddings.”
“Aaron, please,” you plead.
“Look, I’d love to help you, but my family’s got a big dinner thing this weekend and they rarely end well, so I’m booked.” He pats your arm and adds, “Hope you find someone who can help.”
You nod as he walks inside. Looking around the station, you realize your options are very limited. 
“Think Angela would let me borrow Wesley for a few days?” you ask Nolan. 
“Why don’t you just find someone to actually take as a date?”
“Because that’s the entire problem, Nolan. I can’t get a date.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
As you follow him into roll call, you whisper, “I’m going to have to ask Smitty.”
Nolan stifles a laugh, shaking his head as he takes his seat. You tune Wade out after receiving your assignment for the day, glancing around the room as you try to find someone else you can ask. Maybe you should just cancel, tell your aunt that you’re the one who got sick, and now neither you nor your boyfriend can make it. 
Standing in the bullpen, you have your aunt’s contact pulled up on your phone but can’t seem to press the call button. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“Sergeant Bradford,” Nolan says. “I need some advice.”
“I already don’t like this, but go ahead,” Tim replies, resting his hands against his belt. 
“If a fellow officer, a close friend, was going to cancel going to a family member’s wedding because she couldn’t find a fake boyfriend to keep her controlling aunt off her back, would you help her?”
Tim doesn’t answer, turning away from Nolan. As he walks toward the bullpen, Nolan raises a fist in victory, hoping it works out for you and Tim. It’s clear to everyone that you have feelings for each other, but neither of you seems eager to do anything about them. Maybe this is the push you need to take the next step. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim’s hand covers your phone screen before he takes it from you, holding it by his side. 
“You need a fake boyfriend?” he asks. 
“Who told you? ... Nolan, I should’ve known not to trust him and his big mouth.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“My cousin,” you answer, pursing your lips in confusion about why he’s interested. 
“The cousin from the aunt that manipulates and belittles you every time you see her?”
“I’m still sorry for calling you that day, I shouldn’t have. Just didn’t have anyone else to cry to.”
“She lied to you, told you things about yourself that couldn’t have been further from the truth. So, now that you have lied to her, what are you going to do about it?”
“Cancel,” you whisper. “If I can just press the button to call her.”
“I’ll call her,” Tim offers, raising your phone. “Or I can go with you.”
“Tim, I can’t ask you to do this- to lie for me and spend your weekend off at a wedding, around people you don’t know.”
“You’re not asking,” Tim reminds you. “Which one? I make a call, or I go with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Tim smiles while assuring, “We’re friends, and we’ve been on vacation together before. This is just like that.”
“I don’t want to go…”
“But you don’t want to deal with the grief you’ll get if you don’t. I get it, but I’ll help in any way I can.”
You nod, taking your phone from Tim. “Thank you.”
“When do we leave?”
“Friday night. The wedding’s Sunday.”
“Two days before? Why?”
“I don’t even want to think about that right now.”
Tim raises your right hand, pushing a bent paper clip over your finger as he promises, “I will make sure you survive this weekend.”
“And I… will apologize in advance.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When you get out of the shower Friday night and get dressed, all you can think about is the weekend ahead. If you or Tim get uncomfortable, you could put your relationship on the line to look like a happy couple in front of your family. 
Tim’s knock draws you from your thoughts, and when he takes your bag from you, you realize something: Tim already acts like your boyfriend, so he really is boyfriend material. Your crush on him is bound to be affected over the next 48 hours, but he agreed to this, so maybe there’s a chance he feels more than friendship, too. Shaking the idea from your head, you accept Tim’s help as you climb into the passenger seat of his truck. He waits until he’s on the freeway to ask you about the wedding and your family. 
“What’s the fiancé like?” he asks. 
“I haven’t met him. Didn’t even know they were getting married until a few days ago.”
Tim nods, laying his elbow on the center console and moving closer to you without thinking. 
“I- I want to go ahead and tell you that you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. My family can be a lot-“
“I’m not here for them. I’m spending the weekend with you, and nothing more. Remember that, okay? So, if you need an excuse, a buffer, anything you want or need, that’s me this weekend.”
“I can never repay you for this.”
“I’ll give you a call next time I need a wedding date,” Tim suggests. 
“Deal,” you reply with an easy smile. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Someone squeals your name, and Tim grips your hand when you flinch. 
“I’m so glad you made it!” the woman says, pulling you into a hug.
“Of course. And congratulations!” you reply. “Sorry about the invitation confusion.”
“Oh, no worries, I get it. Stuff happens. My mom said you were bringing your boyfriend?”
Tim steps forward, wrapping an arm around your waist as he offers his other hand. “I’m Tim, the boyfriend your mom mentioned.”
“Oh,” your cousin says, shaking his hand. She looks between you and Tim, and as you begin to expect a sarcastic comment, she says, “Nice to meet you, Tim.”
“That wasn’t so bad,” Tim whispers in your ear. 
“I guess I could’ve been overthinking it,” you admit. 
“You’re in chateau Sauvignon Blanc,” a man says, passing a key to Tim. “Follow the white path and you won’t miss it.”
“The chateaus are named after wine,” Tim muses. “Must be nice to be marrying into a family of nepotism.”
You laugh at him, and when he refuses to let you carry your bag to the chateau, you fall into easy conversation on the short walk. Entering, however, you stop in the doorway. 
“What’s wrong?” Tim asks quickly, stepping forward so his chest presses against your back. 
“Nothing, just- there’s only one bed in here,” you say quietly. 
“I think we can make it work. There’s always the floor if you want to treat your fake boyfriend like that,” Tim jokes, closing the door and tossing your bags on a nearby chair. 
“I- why’d you agree to come?” you ask him. 
“You needed a date.”
You don’t quite accept that. It’s not enough reason for someone as logical as Tim Bradford. You don’t have time to question him further, though, as you receive a text that dinner is being served in the main tasting room in just a few minutes. 
“Hey,” Tim says, laying his hands on your shoulders. “We’re two people on vacation together. It doesn’t have to be awkward.”
“Sorry. It’s just, this isn’t what I was expecting.”
“That’s okay, but we’re going to keep moving. No one knows me here, so I’m whatever-“
“I need you to be,” you repeat. “Thank you.”
Tim smiles, and you take your bag into the bathroom to get ready while he changes. When you exit, wearing your favorite outfit and hairstyle, Tim stands, offering both his hands. 
“You look stunning.”
“Clean up pretty nicely yourself, Mr. Bradford.”
“Oh, so you’re a flirty girlfriend?”
You roll your eyes, attempting to pull away from Tim. He tightens his hands around yours and pulls you into a hug, hooking one arm around you as he leads you back to the white path. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Sitting beside Tim, your hand stays in his until the food is served. So far, all of the attention has been on your cousin and her fiancé, and you’re more than happy to listen along to their chatter rather than talk yourself. 
“What about you two?” your grandfather asks. “How’d you meet?”
Tim moves his hand out of yours, patting above your knee as he answers, “We met at work; different divisions, but we joined forces for a narcotics bust and I just couldn’t get her off my mind, so I had to ask her out.”
“How long have you been together?” someone inquires. 
“5 years,” you and Tim say together. You add, “But we’ve only been serious for what? 6 months or so?”
“Since you finally agreed to my begging, you mean?” Tim asks, sending you a comforting smile. “Yeah, about that.”
“Cute,” your cousin comments before the conversation returns to her. 
You close your eyes and release a breath, leaning toward Tim when his hand covers yours again. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“How are we doing this?” You ask, standing at the side of the bed with your arms wrapped around your waist. 
“It’s a bed,” Tim says, blinking at you. “Seems pretty straightforward.”
“Well, yeah, but… what if I, like, snore more or something?”
“I’ll live. Just get in the bed.”
You crawl under the covers, murmuring, “Thought you were gonna call me boot there for a second.”
“I still may,” Tim responds as he turns the light off, lying beside you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, Tim.”
“No problem.”
✯✯✯✯✯
When you wake up, it’s a few minutes before dawn, and a strong arm is holding you against the mattress. When you try to move, Tim pulls you closer before tucking you against him as he relaxes again. 
“Friends on vacation,” you remember, pressing your cheek against his chest as you get comfortable. 
Suddenly, you remember you have to survive another night by his side. The idea makes you want to pull away, but his touch and heartbeat lull you back to sleep before you can. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“Your cousin is here,” Tim whispers, shaking you gently. “She wants to talk to you about dresses.”
“You’re a snuggler,” you mumble as Tim pulls you out of bed. 
“No one will ever believe you,” Tim says darkly. 
“Is she really here?”
“I wouldn’t lie about that. This isn’t a horror movie.”
Nodding, you pick up a change of clothes and move into the bathroom. Tim’s voice is muffled through the wall, but you can tell he’s being civil even as his patience wears thin. Straightening your outfit, you open the door and smile at your cousin and Tim.
“You’re wearing that?” she asks.
“You’re beautiful,” Tim says, smiling at you.
“What exactly are we doing?” you ask.
“I wanted to see the dress you’re planning to wear to the rehearsal tonight and the wedding and reception tomorrow. If you need something different, we can-“
“I won’t need different dresses,” you interrupt. “I like the ones I brought.”
“As do I,” Tim adds. “But I’ll leave you two to talk about dresses.” He stands, kissing your temple and pausing by your side to whisper, “Call if you need someone to save you.”
Smiling, you tell him to be careful. Your cousin waits until he leaves to sit on the end of the bed, waiting for you to show the dresses you packed.
As you hold them up, you remember Tim's compliments this morning as you hide your smile at her surprised reaction. And his arm around you last night. He’s taking his fake boyfriend duties seriously, and you’re unsure if your feelings can survive another night beside him.
“They’re pretty,” your cousin says finally. “I have a few more things to do before the rehearsal this evening, but I’ll see you around.”
“Congratulations again,” you call, exiting the chateau behind her to look for Tim.
When you round a corner on the white path, you run directly into Tim. His arms come up to catch you, holding you against his chest as he raises his eyebrows in surprise.
“Did it go okay?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your spine.
“Yeah. She said the dresses were pretty, so that was unexpected.”
“Wait ‘til she sees them on you,” Tim replies. “Can’t imagine getting upstaged at my own wedding.”
“What do you want to do for the rest of the day? The rehearsal isn’t until 5 and then most of the wedding party is leaving for bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“You could model the dresses.”
“Stop,” you plead, laughing as you press against Tim’s chest.
“It’s my duty as your boyfriend.”
“I knew I should have asked Smitty.”
Tim narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “Don’t make me think about that.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“Where do you think the red path goes?” you ask.
“Are you asking me on a treasure hunt date?” Tim replies.
“Maybe. Care to follow our own version of the yellow brick road? See if you can find your usual personality on the way back to Kansas?”
“You don’t like my new personality? The one I created just for you?”
“Tim,” you warn. “Red path, yes or no?”
Tim takes your hand, leading you out of the chateau and back toward his truck before turning onto the other path.
“If we find a crime scene or something,” you begin.
“What?” Tim interrupts dramatically.
“If we find something unexpected, what then?”
“Wait,” Tim calls, gently pulling you back toward him. “What is this about?”
Glancing down, you say, “Last night.”
“Look, if I made you uncomfortable-“
“No, not at all. The, uh, the unexpected part was how much I liked it,” you admit quietly.
Tim taps his knuckle lightly against your chin, smiling as you raise your head to look at him.
“Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I don’t want to ruin anything. We’re friends, and I care about you, but this weekend could ruin everything if I make one wrong move.”
“You said it yourself, we’re friends, and we’ve been friends for years. Walking on eggshells around me all weekend is unnecessary, not to mention more dangerous than just telling me you like being cuddled.”
“You like being cuddled.”
“Never say that aloud again.”
You chuckle, taking Tim’s hand as you begin walking again. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you stop.
“The red path looks exactly like the white path,” you point out.
“Not true. The red path is red, and the white is white.”
“Wow. You should have been a detective.”
“Are we on the same page?” Tim murmurs.
“Yeah, I’ll be myself with you this weekend. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Nerd.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, Dorothy.”
You roll your eyes, walking away from Tim. He laughs before taking a few long steps to catch up with you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Tim apologizes, and you lean against him, trying to remember what he said about being honest.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Hi, sweetheart,” your aunt greets you as you enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner. “You are at table 2, and your boyfriend is at table 9.”
“You didn’t seat us together?” you ask.
“Well, it was late notice, learning you were bringing a plus one. Sorry.”
“Uh, okay. Thanks.”
Tim lays his hand on your lower back, leading you to your table.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, reaching over the table before leaving.
You watch him walk to his table, switching a nameplate before returning to your side. He sets his nameplate on the seat beside you, sighing as he sits.
“Have I told you recently that you’re the best?”
“You don’t have to, I know,” Tim answers smugly.
“What do you want to do when this is over?”
“Planning ahead, aren’t we?” Tim smiles as he leans toward you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Exiting the venue, you take Tim’s hand, wrapping your other hand around his forearm as you walk beside him. He tugs you closer, keeping you close until you’re back in your chateau. After changing quickly and washing your face, you collapse onto the bed.
“I thought my family was tiring,” Tim jokes.
“Still up for cud- lying closely on the same piece of furniture?” you correct.
Tim leans over you, smiling as he says, “Since you asked so nicely.”
You stare at the ceiling until Tim returns and pulls you into his side as he lays beside you. Rolling against him, pressing your ear to his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, you accept that things are changing.
“I don’t think we can go back to how things were before,” you mutter.
“Me neither,” Tim agrees softly, moving his hand to your upper back.
“Did I ruin everything by letting you come with me?”
Tim rolls onto his side, facing you rather than holding you.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Does everything get awkward after the wedding?”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Tim answers. “I offered to come because it was an opening to spend time with you.”
“But-“
“We’re friends, right? That’s what we say but that’s not how it feels.”
“How does it feel?” you whisper.
“Like more. Tell me you’ve been pretending, and I’ll let this go, but nothing I’ve said this weekend has been a lie or an act.”
“I have feelings for you,” you confess. “I have for years, but I didn’t know how to tell you or what you’d think. So…”
“We both did. Stay quiet to preserve a friendship that could have been much more.”
Inhaling deeply, you move forward, closing the distance between you and Tim.
“You asked what happens after the wedding,” Tim says. “I’d like to keep going from here.”
“I’d like that too.”
Tim smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he rolls over, pulling you with him. You laugh against him, falling silent when you look into his eyes.
“Can I-“ Tim begins.
“Kiss me,” you demand.
Tim cups your cheeks as he pulls you down against him, kissing you softly. You slide your arms over his chest, holding his jaw as you reciprocate his every move. Tim’s arm tightens around your waist before someone knocks on the door.
Pulling away, you sigh before getting out of bed, cracking the door open to see who it is.
“Hi,” you greet, surprised to see your aunt outside.
“I moved your seats for the wedding and reception,” she tells you. “Since you seem inseparable.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry for earlier, and for interrupting. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
After you close the door, you press your hand against it and take a few breaths, surprised by her apologies.
“Are you okay?” Tim asks, sitting up as he watches you.
Walking back to his side, you lie down and move against him, smiling as you answer, “I’m great.”
Tim holds you close, both of you falling asleep on the same side of the oversized bed. When you wake up the following morning, you chuckle at the sight of it, with one side still made after a night in Tim’s arms.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You’ve been in there for a while,” Tim calls, tapping his knuckles against the bathroom door.
“Maybe she was right,” you answer. “I mean, the dress looked great on the mannequin, but…”
“Open the door,” Tim demands.
“No.”
“I will kick it down. You know I can.”
You pull the door open before he can do anything, and Tim’s eyes widen when he sees you.
“You look…”
“I know.”
“Perfect.”
Furrowing your brows, you look down at the dress.
“How do you feel?” Tim asks. “In the outfit, in general?”
 “I feel good, really good.”
“Well, you look even better. Don’t let whatever someone said make you think otherwise. And I was right.”
“About?”
“You’re gonna look better than the bride.”
Tim’s smile, accompanied by his kind words, makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly. Your relationship with him has changed this weekend, and you’re still giddy because you can tell him you love him whenever you want.
“I love you,” you say against his suit.
Tim pulls back quickly, looking into your eyes as he asks you to repeat it. After you do, he smiles and replies, “I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”
“We’re going to be late,” you remind him, narrowly dodging a kiss.
Shaking his head, Tim offers his arm, keeping you close as you walk to the wedding venue entrance. Finding your seats, you sit beside Tim, pulling one of his hands into your lap as you look at him.
“Those bouquets are really bright,” you say.
“Our wedding will be much better,” Tim agrees.
“We’re getting married now?” you ask, smiling.
Tim looks at you from the corner of his eye, shrugging as he says, “Why not?”
“I love you, Tim Bradford.”
“Thank you for letting me be your boyfriend this weekend,” he replies. “I love you.”
“Oh, you’re going to be my boyfriend for a lot longer than this weekend.”
“And after that?” Tim asks, interlacing his fingers with yours.
“That part is up to you, I think.”
You stand, keeping your hand in Tim’s as the wedding procession begins.
“Then, yes, we’re getting married,” Tim whispers. “But it will be perfect.”
Keeping your attention on one another throughout the ceremony, you fall in love with Tim again. After the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, you pull the paper clip ring from your dress pocket. Tim stands, and when he turns to you, you raise it.
“Tim Bradford, will you be my boyfriend?”
Tim chuckles, pulling you up to kiss you before you slide the ring onto his finger. He had nearly forgotten about giving it to you before leaving the station but seeing it on his finger makes him even more eager to marry you someday.
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May I request Nanami and Gojo finding out their s/o got disowned by her father, who is one of the higher-ups, because she showed mercy and defended Yuuji?
Nanami Kento
It was late at night when he got the knock at the door. So late, in fact, that Nanami was just about to go to bed, already in his pajamas with his teeth brushed, when he heard it.
“[Y/N]?” He asked curiously when he saw them there. Standing in front of his door, looking a mixture of distraught, sad, and just hopeless. A strange case given that they were usually so confident and strong as a Special Grade Sorcerer. “What’s wrong? Has someone died?”
“No. No one has died. I guess that’s the problem.” Nanami arched a brow at their cryptic comment, before they let out a shaky sigh. “Can I stay here tonight?”
He of course let them in. Offering tea or some kind of comforting drink, although they don’t take him up on the offer. “Will you tell me what’s wrong, please?”
They eventually break down and tell him everything. About the boy that ate one of Sukuna’s fingers. How he was slated for execution, which was cruel but reasonable in their world, and how that idiot had them stick their neck out to vouch for the boy’s hold even though they didn’t know a thing about him. Of course, Nanami knew that they would speak up for him. They had an incredible sense of morality and standing up for the weak. ‘That’s the job, isn’t it?’ They had told him that more than once.
Apparently not everyone shared their noble heart, it seemed. Not even those in her own family. For standing up to the higher ups and ‘embarrassing’ the family her father kicked her out with threats of disownment and banishment. Whether or not he meant to follow through would be a problem for tomorrow, but right now she was out on the street. Which in his opinion was unforgiveable already.
“You can stay here as long as you like.” Nanami told them. Amending their original request from earlier to stay the night.
[Y/N] sniffle once, but seem hell bent on refusing to cry. Nanami told them to take a shower if they wanted and he would find them some clothes to sleep in. They literally had nothing on them. So they would have to make do.
Both of them now in pajamas with their teeth brushed, [Y/N] curled up beside him and tried to get some sleep. It seemed a struggle, but the emotional exhaustion took hold, he thinks, and they both try to get the best night sleep possible for the hell that was to greet them in the morning.
Gojo Satoru
Gojo whistled down the hall as he made his way from one part of campus to the other. He was quite pleased with himself.
It wasn’t every day he got to ridicule and humiliate the higher-ups; despite his attempts and life’s goal to make it an everyday occurrence on his part. Those old fools didn’t know what hit ‘em when Gojo plead his case and told them what happened. He might not have gotten this Yuji kid off scot-free, but he bought him some time. That’s all he needed for Gojo’s master plan to come to fruition (whatever it was).
He passed a familiar doorway and saw a light was on. Thinking it had been left on by mistake, he invited himself in and was surprised to see [Y/N] there. Boxes on their desk as they were throwing things into it.
“Hey, isn’t it a little early for spring cleaning?”
“Not for me.” They told him. “I have to be out of here by morning.” Gojo tilted his head to the side, so they explained further. “I’ve been sacked.”
Gojo’s face was one of alarm. “Wait. What are you talking about?” They couldn’t have been fired. Really? For what??
“Apparently my behavior at the council meeting was ‘unbecoming of an educator at this institution’.”
Gojo growled in his throat. “That’s bullshit! I was there too, and it was my idea! I did all the talking!”
“Yes, but I don’t have the Gojo name to defend me.” His ire and shoulder fell. Oh shit….
“They seriously fired you?” [Y/N] nodded. He clicked his teeth. “Can’t you do something? Your dad maybe?” He’d hate to ask him for any favors, but if it kept [Y/N] here they should take it.
“Who do you think signed my ‘death warrant’?”
He wanted to say he was surprised, but he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry [Y/N]. I didn’t realize that you might –“you did the right thing Satoru. Even if it was originally for selfish reasons.” He sighed. So he guessed they knew that the only reason he initially did this was to piss this old coots off. They lifted the box and put in on their hip. “I’ll be fine. I’m not exiled entirely. Not yet. I’m still a Special Grade. Still can go on missions.”
“Yeah. Ones that will get you killed.” They all knew what happened to people who weren’t Gojo that stood up to the council. They were given mission in far off places and then ‘died under mysterious circumstances’ while in Brazil or Cameroon or something.
[Y/N] let out a bitter chuckle. “They’d have to catch me first. For now, I need to find a place to stay. Get an apartment. They took away my professor housing too, and I obviously can’t go home to dear-old-dad.”
“You’re staying with me.” Gojo cut in quickly.
[Y/N] seemed surprised, but quickly schooled it into coy. “Ooo….I never thought we’d be in a point in our relationship where we were moving in together.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Gojo grabbed the box they were carrying and helped carry it out. “I really am sorry.” He apologized on the way.
“I know.” They told him. But that was all they said this time. No ‘you had a good reason’, ‘you did what you could’, ‘it’s not your fault’. He suddenly felt all the more guilty. He had to remember more often that just because things couldn’t touch him, that other people weren’t as lucky. Collateral damage was something he never thought of. He’d need to think about that more in the future. Especially with his new student.
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julieloves074 · 5 months
Text
I want you (Cole Walter x reader)
Summary: When the storm hits the ranch and most of the family is at Will's evening party Y/n and Cole are left to talk in the candle light, which could end either beautifully or tragically as they navigate whatever is happening between them.
Warnings: Death, kissing, swearing
Words: 4.27k
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(Not my Gif :) )
“I still can’t believe that I let you take me to that party” I said to Cole as he pulled out candles from the top drawer in the living room.
“I can’t believe that you came,” he turned to me briefly, his eyes beautiful even in the shade of this storm and little light, he turned back to the draw, “I’m glad you were there,” he said, quieter this time, I couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that started to lift the corner of my lips.
“Apart from the fact that I vomited on you right?” I tried to defuse the energy that was building up here with a laugh.
“Eh, could have been worse,” he started and turned around to face me again holding two candles, “Alright this is all of them now,”. We took a couple each and laid them around the kitchen and the living room.
“Can you pass me the lighter from the kitchen?” Cole called from the other room, I picked it out from the ‘anything and everything’ draw that every family has in their house and walked to the other room.
The darkness made it hard to see, but the outline of his frame was as clear as day, it felt as if I knew his frame well enough to find him anywhere.
“Thanks,” he reached for the lighter and our hands touch. As cliché as in every book I’ve ever read and every romcom I’ve ever watched. His hands weren’t soft or rough they were the perfect medium, he’s helped George on the farm since he was young and played football but there was still a compassionate side to him, one that he didn’t like to show.
His thumb brushed over my hand, he looked down briefly and I knew I should pull my hand free and step away, knowing the feelings Alex had for me. Even though he knows I don’t share the same feelings back I would still feel wrong to do this with his brother. Then Cole’s eyes came up to meet mine and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“If you want to start lighting up the candles, I’m just going to check the kids are asleep,” I explained rushing towards the stairs with one last gentle smile. That was another good reminder, everyone else may be at some fancy party but we were still looking after the younger Walter siblings.
Just as I had expected they were all still asleep tucked away just how Katherine had settled them down. The Walter’s slept hard, nothing wakes them up, not even a ranging storm with killer winds apparently.
After checking up on all of them I head towards the stairs again, but something catches my eye as I go to lower my foot onto the first step. A little packaged box on a dresser in Cole and Danny’s room. I tear my eyes away from it and take the first step. Yet just as quickly as I looked away, I looked back to the little brown box with the blue bow.
I stepped lightly to avoid any squeaky board; the box was sat there surrounded with a mix of both the boy’s stuff. I raised my brows in confusion, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that I was invading their privacy, but the inquisitiveness got the best of me. If it’s Danny’s, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.
From the handwriting on the note at the top I could immediately tell that it wasn’t Danny’s, his handwriting much neater, almost cursive, which I still found impressive. It just said my name, I opened the folded piece of paper and had to read over the short note a couple of times before it registered.
‘It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply’
My mom’s favorite quote staring right at me. The quote I told Cole that day when…
***
We had just finished our shift at the cider stand, Will and Alex had already packed everything up into the van. Alex was less than impressed by the fact that Cole decided to come out of his depression cocoon to come and help and help he did. He auctioned himself away for an afternoon and helped us raise over double of the money we needed for the new auditorium.
“You fancy a little detour?” He asked, looking away from the road momentarily with a half smirk my way, I shook my head but a light smile still found its way onto my lips.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, I couldn’t disguise that I was curious, getting to know Cole was hard. Some days he was rays of sunshine and an open book other days, most days, he shut himself out, hiding behind a carless façade. I was guilty of the fact that I wanted him to sweep me away for a while into his own world.
“It’ll have to be a surprise,” he said, the smile still there when he looked bacl onto the road, I may have not been here long yet but I knew the second he took a different turn. We drove through some more woodlands until we came to a clearing, the sky absolutely clear.
When I stepped out of the car a fresh breeze flushed against my skin, it was refreshing.
“So… what do you think?” he says walking ahead of me. I followed not too far behind looking around taking in the surroundings. The river flowed surrounded by more trees and low rocks.
“It’s really beautiful here,”
“Alright come on then!” He shouted louder as he started to run towards the river
“Cole where are you going!” I called back, stood still watching him.
“Well we can’t go home now!” He turned around momentarily, gesturing me over with his hands. I shook my head and shut the car door, following behind him, my hair flowing in the wind beneath my hat.
When I finally caught up the sound of the gushing river was clearer and there he stood on some rocks, his back to me, jacket on the ground. He reached down to grab something, I stepped onto the same rock, more cautiously than him.
“There, for you,” he pushed the flower he was holding out towards me. I eyed him cautiously, his teasing side coming out, “Come on, I’m being nice,” his head tilted slightly.
I gave in reaching for the purple flower, he pulled it back a little with a laugh and I shook my head slightly, he pushed it my way again but lets me take it this time. In the exact same moment, he steals the hat off my head.
“Hey!” I shouted going to reach for it, he moves away, flaunting the hat in different directions, taunting me with it, “This is not fair,” I claimed moving towards him away. He’s laughing and I’m laughing, and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest.
I stop for a second, Cole stops too a moment later, that cheeky smile playing his lips. In that moment of calm I reached for the hat and his coat that was now next to my feet.
“Hey that wasn’t part of the rules!” He called coming after me this time, I’ve suddenly gained the confidence that I won’t fall into the water.
“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there were any rules,” I answered in the same tone, I moved another couple of steps and turned to start running onto the grass. Cole’s arms found their way around me as he tried for the jacket. I turned my head to face him, our faces centimeters apart. He pulled me closer laughing into the back of my neck.
“Okay okay, draw?” He asked his breath still on the back of my neck
“Deal,” I said taking a step forward as his grip eased, his hands followed the shape of my waist until the comforting touch was gone. He took the jacket and laid it out on the rock, laying down on half of it. I sat down next to him on the jacket as well.
“Do you feel any better now?” He asked after a moment of silence, my eyes focused on the river. The last couple of days have been rough, not only was I feeling homesick for New York, it had also officially been six months since the accident. It was all overwhelming, especially with Erin giving me a hard time.
I let out a breath before answering, “Yeah, thanks for this,” I said turning to look at him, he smiled and nodded, his arms followed behind his head. Whilst I knew a part of him took me here to make me feel better, I knew it was so that he could get away for himself too. We weren’t running from reality exactly, but taking a break.
“You know what my mom used to say?” I said laying down beside him, he turned on his side, leaning his head against his arm so he was looking down at me, “she always said that it’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply,” I put a hand over my brows to guard them from the sun, and so I could see his face, hoping he understood what I was saying, I was here if he needed to talk. No matter how much he was hiding behind his persona I knew that he cared.
He nodded and laid back down, taking a deep breath. It didn’t feel like we were there for that long with the sun glimmering on our faces, it wasn’t until a call from Katherine came through that I realized that we’d been here for well over an hour.
“We should probably get back, mom does not like it when we don’t make it home for dinner,” he said getting up and offering me his hand. I squinted my eyes but reached for the help, of course he pulled back his hands ever so slightly. I shooed him away and went to get up myself.
“I’m not falling for that again,” I laughed.
“Oh come on I’m sorry,” he pulled that face where his eyes were the center of the universe it was truly quite mesmerizing. I reached my hand out again grabbing his jacket in the other and passing it to him. I walked a few steps ahead and he put it around my shoulders and we walked back to the car.
***
Underneath all the tissue paper there lays the small, beautiful music box that Parker accidentally knocked over; it was no longer smashed to pieces. I opened it and immediately the little figurine inside started to swirl around and a low song started to play.
I could feel the tears beginning to build in my eyes, my lips shaking. I closed the box and pulled it close to myself, arms around it tightly. The quote was right, these feelings were a blessing and a curse. They made me feel happy and good but on the other hand I feel like I’m betraying one for another.
“So, Y/n are you going to make me this famous hot chocolate of yours?” Cole says from the bottom of the stairs, I push the music box back into the little packages and press the note back at the top laying it back in the exact spot it was before. My heart beating twice as violently as it was before. I try even harder not to make a sound leaving his room.
“Coming!” I whisper-yelled back, in the kitchen now lit up by about a dozen candles it was clear how dark it was outside, I was glad that we managed to clear everything from the yard into the barns before the rain started.
“I’ve got everything prepped,” he said proudly and in the little candlelight it was as if I was seeing his face people for the first time. In the silence, no distractions, and his smile protruding through even the worst of the weather.
“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he retorted, and I looked away with a scoff.
“Yeah, you wish, I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was outside until now,”
“It’ll be alright, it’s predicted to be a minor storm, the ranch has survived much worse. There was this really bad one once when I was about eight. I genuinely thought the wind was going to rip out the foundations of the house, or the rain was going to break through the roof and drown us,” he laughed to himself, pushing the two mugs towards me alongside the chocolate power, milk, vanilla and some other ingredients I asked for.
“I imagine how that could be scary for an eight year old,” I reassure working my magic with my ingredients.
“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe tonight,” the teasing in his voice clear, he took a step towards me his face beside mine but I focus on the coco powder. It just feels like every time we could be having a moment, something vulnerable and real he disconnects. He’s said he’s a flirt and maybe that’s just that- but then what about the note and my music box?
“Haha you’re just so funny, are you just trying to hide the fact that you’re still scared?” I retort, keeping my composure, pushing his face away with one of my hands, he takes a step back and laughs shaking his head.
“Whatever makes you feel better New York,” he comments watching me heat up the milk.
He holds both our mugs as we make our way into the living room, it’s even prettier in here, he’s started the fire and lit up all the candles around it. I can’t help but give him a smile, there’s a spot perfect for the two of us.
“Go on try it,” I prod after we sit down, he looks down in the mug first and smells it, “I’m not trying to poison you if that’s what you think,”
“Alex would like it if you were,” he laughs lifting the mug to his lip, he takes a big sip and licks the whipped cream off of his top lip.
“Don’t say stuff like that, you guys may fight but you’re brothers it’s bound to happen, but you care for each other and I know he would protect you with all he’s got,” I assure him, he doesn’t say anything back to this, he avoids the subject like the plague even when he’s the one who brings it up.
“This-,” he says instead, looking down at the mug in his hand again, I couldn’t read his face if I tried, one of his brows raises for a split second as if he’s trying to organize all his thoughts about the chocolate. I know that it’s good but, in this moment, I’m metaphorically sat on the edge of my seat, eager to know his thoughts. “Is amazing, sweet and spicy at the same time, who the hell came up with this?”
The second those words come out of his mouth I feel myself beginning to be able to breathe again, the tension in my shoulders dissipates and I reach for my mug, “I did tell you, have some more confidence in me Cole,” I announce proudly and take a sip of the angelic drink.
His eyes watched me, I could feel his stare everywhere on my body, as if he was actually trailing his fingers over my skin.
I put the mug down, half gone already, Cole let out some sort of laugh and shifted closer to me, his hand reached towards my face, and I was frozen. My eyes watching his and his watching mine. Almost automatically my body and face shifted towards him. A smirk quired up on one side of his mouth. He brushed his thumb across my top lip.
“You had a bit of… whipped cream,” he said moving back just enough to show me, he licked it off his finger. Were either of us to move even slightly we could break the distance between us.
I’m scared. Sat here with him like this feels like a fever dream, like any second a sudden move could shatter this illusion, because this couldn’t be real, any second he’s going to pull back with some sort of snarky comment, and I’ll look like a fool.
But he wasn’t moving, and neither was I.
“I saw the music box, you fixed it,” I whispered into the space between us, my voice sounding as though it could break any moment.
“Nothing is ever too broken to be fixed, that’s something else your mom used to say right?” he whispered back, the shadows of the candles and the fire danced across his face.
“I hope you know how much that means to me. Thank you.” I was raw and honest, even with the things between us left unsaid, for the better, he deserved this, “For the music box, for my mom’s quotes, for letting me see the glimpses of the real you,” with each word my heartbeat sped up.
“I would do anything for you if you let me,” He murmured as if speaking any louder would smash this fragile thing happening around us right now. The tip of his finger grazes across my cheekbone, his eyes follow the line. I never feel his touch, just the ghost of it, sending shivers through my body that I try my best to keep from showing.
I scan his face, every beautiful angle and feature that makes him perfect, just the way he is.
I want to. I want to let him in so badly, to let him know every corner of my heart, I want to be fully immersed in whatever this is we’re building here, for him to have me, for me to have him but all that comes out is, “I want to,” because the foundations were building here are rocky and not stable.
His gaze shifts from my one eye to the other then to my lips and again.
“But you can’t because of…” he lets out so quietly I almost miss it
“I don’t have any feelings for him Cole,” there was a shift in his expression at my words, a guilty smile, “but he’s your brother, he’s one of my closest friends and he lives here too, this isn’t just about us, there’s your family,” I argue, but my excuses are sounding weak even to myself.
He moved closer, his knee touching mine, his breath warm.
Without further thought I laced my arms around his neck, running my fingers from the sides to the back pulling him close. A simple kiss, which did not last long enough. It was short, controlled. I pulled back realizing what I had just done. Maybe we just needed it out of our systems.
Still no words were exchanged, we just looked at each other. I knew I needed to move, to get up and out of the room but when his hand found its way to my forearm and pulled me towards him, I just gave in.
His hands explored my neck, cheeks and hair as the kiss became more passionate. I could feel my cheeks glowing a bright red, thankful it would be too hard to see in this light. Finally, he settled them on either side of my face whilst one of my hands found its place on his neck, the other exploring the honey-blonde hair on the nape of his neck.
I don’t know how long we were kissing but when he pulled away to look at me I knew it hadn’t been long enough. Both our chests heaving, me certain that my heart was about to give out. It felt so right I couldn’t let this slip away from me.
I grabbed onto his neck and pulled him towards me again. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was filled by a burning need. All those months of the back and forth, the uncertain, the toying around the subject and now finally. Finally, I got to feel what this burning passion meant. What I’ve never felt with anyone else.
His hand one hand travelled to my neck, his thumb brushing comfortingly, his other pulling me towards him, I don’t know how much closer we could get until he was pulling me onto him. My legs on either side of his body. Chest to chest. Only clothes between us.
“Cole,” I whispered when his mouth travelled down my jaw to my neck kissing every inch of exposed skin. He paused cautiously, checking with his eyes that I was okay, that he wasn’t taking it too far. I nodded entangling my hand in locks, the hot chocolate long forgotten.
It was a euphoric feeling until my heart stopped when we heard the door open. I pushed off his lap and he helped me up.
“Hey, are you guys alright the lights aren’t-” Alex stopped when he made it to the doorframe to the living room, his eyes quickly found mine, then Cole’s, he hadn’t seen anything, no one would know, but even just seeing us here together, surrounded by candles could give anyone the impression.
“The storm blew out the electric box,” I said, my walls building right back up, keeping this eye contact while I could see the hurt in his eyes was more painful than I could have imagined but I couldn’t look away, then he’d know something had in fact happened. The light came back on with a click in the hallway.
“It’s because of the storm, what happened?” George asked walking into the living room, Katherine beside him, she gave me a weak smile.
“I’m going to check up on the kids, you guys make sure all the candles are blown out, let’s not start any fires tonight,” she added a cheerful tone and a chuckle but the still the tension in the room could probably be cut with a knife. Whether she meant literally or metaphorically I agreed with her, I did not want anything to explode between these two Walter boys.
“She managed to get it to work for a few minutes, but it gave out again, we thought it would be safer to leave the box alone,” Cole confirmed to his dad who nodded in agreement. I didn’t look at Cole as he volunteered to help his dad with the candles in the kitchen.
I thought Alex would say something when we were left alone. It looked like he really wanted to say something, but he just shook his head slightly and ran upstairs. I bit into my bottom lip and closed my eyes. It’s not like I hadn’t told him that I didn’t feel the same way, still the guilt washed over like a destructive wave. I took a deep breath and after a second started to blow out the candles before heading up to my bedroom.
***
I tossed and turned every few minutes in my bed for what felt like hours. I heard someone come out of their room half an hour ago, I assumed it was one of the Walter’s going to the toilet, but the person went downstairs, and was yet to come back up. Something in me knew it was Cole, he probably couldn’t sleep like me.
After another few restless minutes, I let out a huff and sat up in bed. All of the emotions were still buzzing and brewing inside my body. I threw my comforter off me and put on a hoodie and some outdoor slippers. Before I knew it, I was tip-toeing my way downstairs hoping I was doing a better job than whoever had gone down before me.
Walking out the front door I could see the beginning of the sunrise, at what looked like the other end of the world, out there in the fields the first sights of amber and yellow were rising out of the grass in the horizon.
I spotted Cole immediately sitting on the railing looking out at the view. The ranch was truly a magnificent sight, it was breathtaking, how could anyone not fall in love with this place just seeing this.
I stepped on one of the weaker wooden panels which let out a single sound, Cole looked around instantly, but the smile that shone on his face mere hours ago was not there now.
“I won’t break my brother’s heart ever again” he starts solemnly, “But I can’t not want you, how could I not?” he looked at me, the tears in my eyes are again threatening to spill. He hopped down and walked over to me. Nothing more said.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, laying his head on top of mine. I laced my arms around his torse, holding him tightly in the quiet of the post-storm, looking out at sunrise like it was a painting in a gallery to be looked at for hours.
“Your mom was right when she said it’s a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply” he whispered into my hair and I just tightened my hold on him. She was always right, and hell did I wish she was here now to tell me what I can do to make this all stop hurting.
What’s happened can’t be taken back now, the consequences long-term are yet to be seen and I suppose I’ll just have to take it day by day. Navigate this chaos of events and feelings. Hoping that it’ll all work out.
MASTER LIST
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writingoddess1125 · 5 months
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Ok, I just have to ask you. Can we have more daddy Mihawk? 🫠🔥
Please 🥺
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You Got is Sugar!
Mihawk x FemReader +OOC Children
Liniște! {Be Quiet!}
Since Mihawk is Romanian 🇷🇴 I thought him speaking the tongue/culture would be fun!
If I got shit wrong PLEASE tell me!
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• Most people do not realize this, because Mihawk keeps it behind closed door. But- He is very heavily tied to his culture of birth.
• Most of the time at home, Mihawk has developed the habit of just speaking his native tongue. Feeling comforble enough to do so- As well as wanting to pass it on to his children.
• Mihawk summoning Alucare to his study one frosty morning, humming a song from his youth as he has a stack of papers and books before him. The gloomy teen stepping in and raising a brow at his father-
• "Închide ușa" (Close the Door-) Mihawk said calmly waving to his child who stares at him confused. "What language are you speaking old man?-"
• "From now on I'm only speaking my native language to you. So you learn or you starve-" He says calmly as he hands his son the book. "You've got to be kidding-"
• "Nu glumesc" (I'm not kidding-)
• He adores you and will speak with you privately in his native tongue, teaching you important words that will only ever be used for you-
• Does not use tradional physical punishments. Truthfully he doesn't believe in them- Yes he will be a harsh teacher in training since that is different.
• Laying next to you in the soft silks of bed whispering "Te iubesc" Softly to you. Teaching you the meanings of every word, as well as being more vocally affectionate in this language.
• "Well at least youre learning the language" Mihawk said with a heavy sigh looking at Alucare who got his ass handed to him-
• "Face din nou" (Do it again) Mihawk says calmly tapping his sword clean as Alicare laid on the ground trying to get up.
• "Du-te dracului!" (Go to Hell) Alucare growls out.
• Mihaela is constantly in his arms. He truthfully refuses to let her go, doting on her heavily and seeing her as his star in his sky.
- Mihawk walked into his father's study, raising a brow at seeing the man holding Miha still while going through papers. Mihawk glancing up at his eldest rather quickly-
• He is delicate and handles much of Mihaela nightly upkeep. Letting you sleep throughout the night since you worked so hard during the days.
• Changing diapers, getting bottles, dealing with any midnight fussiness. He handles it all with grace and making sure you sleep- As well as takes this time to clean up the nursery or the bedroom so it's something you don't stress about.
• He will immediately wake up at the first sounds of his darling daughter fussing. Walking calmly to her nursery and always greet her the same way-
• "Scumpa mea~" (My treasure) Mihawk smiling at his fussing daughter. "So beautiful, like your your mother-" before scooping her up in his arms.
• Spoils Mihaela fucking ROTTEN- The whole house does really but Mihawk is the worse..
"Seems girls ate favored in this family" Alucare muses, his words having no mallace and just a simple jest at how his sister was so heavily spoiled. Mohawk raising a brow at this and staring at his child-
"Favored?" He questioned rather calmly.
"Yeah like favorite chil-"
"No-" Mihawk said calmy but firmly, cutting off his son. "Miha is my Sun, Bright, Innocent and Sweet but clearly with a fire of an attitude. You are my Moon, Smart, Ambitious and Loyal but can be cold. And your mother, She is my sky. Day or Night she guides me and holds the two most important things in my life. You are all equally needed and important to me. Without one or another all would be lost" He clarified rather sharply.
Alucare face getting a hint of pink at the rather kind words his father spoke. Now unsure how to respond or explain to his father he was just making a joke.
Bonus!-
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Mihawk notices his cigars are missing- While he doesn't personally smoke he does have expensive cigars for guest or have gifted to him as gifts-
He knew he had counted 30- yet he had only 27 in his collection. Irritation hitting him as he closes the box and calmly grabs his hat-
On the otherside of the Island, Alucare is sitting on one of the old abandoned pillars- a place he had turned into his hide out were he could relax. Currently with one bottle of wine he had snuck from his father's secret stash and a cigar.
This had turned into his favorite pass time. Drinking directly out of the bottle and taking a mouthful of smoke as he sat there looking over the gloomy island-
However this was soon to end when a menacing shadow with glowing yellow eyes stood behind him- Alucare feeling his hair stand up on end as he slowly turned to see the invision of the devil himself there.
"O să număr până la trei-"
(I'm gonna count to Three-)
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