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#the he thought he broke her laptop
rocketandonuts · 10 months
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I little detail I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to mention is that jules doesn’t have a pc. Viv does.
Viv has a laptop and use it like a normal amount I think. Honestly I considered her have an in-universe tumblr account but that might make her too complicated. (I even thought about her being the fan-fiction writing type)
Jules only borrows her laptop when he needs it for school and such. He’s usually just on his phone instead and he’s lacking basic knowledge with computer/machines in general…
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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“I think I’m going to move to Gotham,” Jazz’s tapped away at her laptop, clicking through her college acceptance letters. Danny sat up from where he was scrolling through his phone and stared at her. “Thoughts?”
“And prayers,” he sassed. “Because you’re going to need them. Why the would you pick Gotham when Harvard accepted you?”
“Gotham has Arkham. And Doctor Quinzel.”
“Isn’t she Harley Quinn? The Crime Princess of Gotham?”
“Yeah, and an acclaimed psychologist with hundreds of published work that revolutionized the mental health field! Sure, she’s more criminally inclined now, but I’d kill to pick her brains.”
Danny grinned. “Interesting word choice. You’d fit right in. It’s just weird that all of their psychologists turned into villains.”
“Okay, but I won’t. You’d stop me.”
“Or I’d join you,” Danny rolled back onto the floor.
“Don’t you dare, Daniel Fenton. You’d better stop me if I went villain.”
“But I feel like you’d have a pretty good reason for it though?”
“I appreciate the trust, dumbass, but I’m always this close to loosing it.” Jazz rolled her eyes as she jabbed a finger at Danny.
“Hah! You’ll fit right into Gotham!”
Jazz hummed. “So, Gotham?”
“Yeah, why not?”
——
“Danny!”
“Little busy!” Danny dodged a blast from a GIW agent.
“Why’d you pick up, then?”
“You don’t call often- hey, can you guys knock it off? I’m on a call!” Danny shouted. Surprisingly the agents stopped.
“Woah. You guys actually stopped?”
“We’re anti-ghost, not rude cavemen. Finish your call, Phantom, so we can get back to capturing you.” The agent with red hair said. Her partner nodded their head.
“Riiiight.” Phantom floated away a bit. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked Jazz.
“So, Dr. Quinzel-”
Danny heard a further off “Call me Harley, darling!”
“Harley,” Jazz continued seamlessly. “Is dating Ivy, a meta! Which, totally cute and their relationship is so healthy. Goals, honestly-”
Danny heard another far off comment, “Awe, thanks, Jazzy-wazzy!”
“But long story short, they got in touch with the Justice League about the GIW and they’re getting pulled back! And disbanded! Are you fighting the agents? Can you see if they’ve got the order to pull back?”
“Wait, seriously?” Danny perked up, the exhaustion from the fight all but gone. “I’ll ask.”
Danny turned to the two agents, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Hey! Did you guys get orders to stop hunting me? I heard the Justice League got involved.”
“What? We didn’t-”
“Shit, wait, we got orders.” Her partner jabbed their phone at her.
“Fuck. This isn’t over, Phantom!”
“Yeah, yeah! Shoo!” Danny watched them peel away. “Thanks, Jazz! Maybe I’ll finally get a peaceful school year.”
“R.I.P.” Jazz solemnly intoned.
“Dead-ass.” Danny replied, just as seriously before the both of them broke. Cackling, Danny said goodbye to Jazz.
“Maybe I should get some gifts? Hm… Undergrowth has some rare plants.” Danny muttered as he flew back home.
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Hearts in Sync, Tires on Track
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I'm sorry I have hit the deleted button 😢 and so I have to repost this one. This was based on a request of a reader @pear-1206, so sorry that your request message was also being deleted.
But yeah, here it is. Hope that you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I did. Also, if you have any requests please feel free to hit my dm, I appreciate it very much. If not then send me some of your love and support through that reblog and like button. Love ya alllll!  🫶🏻
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Toto Wolff's wife and son, Y/n and Jack were in the garage, watching the race with bated breath. The atmosphere was tense, as nothing seemed to be working for George and Lewis. Toto's wife watched her husband's face, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, the deep furrow between his brows. She knew how much he was struggling, trying to figure out a way to turn things around for the team. Her heart ached for him, wanting nothing more than to ease his worries.
As the race continued, the tension in the garage grew thicker. She and Jack glued to his side, watching him anxiously. Toto's eyes flicked back and forth between the monitors, his fingers flying across his laptop as he tried to find a solution, anything that could help the team's chances. Toto's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and strategies. His eyes scanned the monitors, searching for any glimpse of improvement from his drivers. As he pondered the various scenarios, his hand subconsciously went to his own wedding band, his fingers toying with it gently. Meanwhile, in the garage, Y/n sat with Jack, trying to keep a brave face despite her worry. She was struggling to keep her own anxiety in check, her mind constantly going back to her husband. Every now and then, she found herself twisting her wedding band around her finger, a silent prayer for his wellbeing.
The race was over, but the results had not been what he had hoped for. His heart was heavy with disappointment, and his mind raced with thoughts of what he could have done differently. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door, and he looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway. Her face was filled with concern, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and love.
Toto's heart skipped a beat as he saw her. In that moment, all his worries and stress seemed to melt away, at least for a moment. He held out his hand, a silent invitation for her to come closer. She walked over to him, taking his hand and sitting down on the edge of his desk. For a moment, they were silent, simply taking comfort in each other's presence. Finally, Toto broke the silence. "It didn't go well," he said quietly, his voice low and strained.
Y/n nodded, her fingers gently rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. "I know," she murmured softly. "But you did everything you could. You always do." Toto let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't enough," he replied. "I should have done more, I should have thought of something..." His wife reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Stop," she said firmly. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You work too hard, you worry too much. You need to let go sometimes." Toto looked up at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guilt. "I can't," he said quietly. "I'm responsible for this team, for everyone who is now working at Brackley also. If I don't worry, who will?"
His wife chuckled softly, her thumbs stroking his cheeks fondly. "That's exactly what I mean," she said with a smile. "You're too dedicated, too determined. You forget to take care of yourself." Toto let out a huff of breath, his lips twitching into a small smile. "And who's going to take care of me, hm?" he teased, a hint of the old spark returning to his eyes.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Who do you think? Me," she replied, her tone playful. "Someone has to keep you from working yourself into the ground." Toto chuckled, the sound low and heartfelt. "You did a good job of it," he admitted.
As they were all laughing at his words, Toto's door creaked open, and they both looked up to see their son, Jack, standing in the doorway. The young boy's face was pinched with worry, his eyes taking in the sombre atmosphere of the room. "Papa?" he asked tentatively, his small voice breaking the silence. Toto's heart clenched at the sight of his son. "Hey, buddy," he said, mustering a smile. "Come here."
Jack hesitantly stepped into the room, his eyes flicking between his parents. Toto reached out a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. "Don't worry, everything's alright," Toto said, trying to keep his voice steady for his son's sake. "Just having a bit of a tough day, that's all." Jack slowly made his way over to them, stopping beside his father. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "We'll figure things out," he assured him, his voice gentle.
Y/n nodded in agreement, her fingers once again toying with her wedding band. "Papa's right," she said firmly. "We always figure things out. We're a team, remember?" Jack looked up at his dad, his eyes wide. "Us?" he asked, his voice small. Toto chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "Yeah, me, mama and you. We've been a team for a long time, haven't we?"
Jack seemed to accept this, his expression relaxing slightly. He leaned into his mother's side, resting his head against her shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had happened that day hanging heavily in the air. Toto could feel the presence of his family, their love and support grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone.
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meangirls-imagines · 3 months
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Savior
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Description: Leighton meets reader in her math class and is instantly smitten. However, as weeks go on, Leighton sees that the reader's kindness is getting taken advantage of, causing her girl to burn out. Leighton takes matters into her own hands.
WARNINGS: frat guys being dicks, leighton being protective, reader being a smol bean, exhaustion.
leighton murray was about to lose her shit.
in her defense, it's definitely deserved. 
and it all has to do with her crush, y/n y/l/n.
y/n  was the sweetest person leighton had ever met. she always said hi to everyone she came across, was always open to listen to anyone's problems, gave great hugs. she even went the extra mile to do people's homework if they needed. her and leighton were in the same math class and got partnered up on a project. 
leighton didn't know why but the second she met y/n, she instantly felt a connection to the girl. luckily the two hit it off and had been hanging out ever since. in the short time leighton had been friends with the girl, she had noticed something. 
there was a guy in their math class named josh. he was in theta with nico so that's how leighton knew him. she always felt like he was a sleaze ball because he thought he was hot shit. she had noticed over the past week that y/n's homework load seemed to double. and josh seemed to be at every party that leighton and her roommates had gone to that week.
she had tried to get it out of y/n, but the girl just shook it off. leighton was beginning to get frustrated, seeing y/n basically crumble before her eyes. she had to do some more digging.
josh matthews was about to meet his demise and he didn't even know it. 
leighton didn't want to expose him at the theta party she was currently at, but after a text from jocelyn with a picture of y/n knocked out at a table, she had enough. 
luckily for her, nico still had connections at theta and told her who the president and vice president of the frat were very quickly and her plan was set in motion.
she had talked to both guys in the president's bedroom, leighton providing all the evidence she had on josh not doing his homework. from pictures of him either sleeping in class to pictures of his laptop on netflix during class and pictures of y/n's work (that leighton had taken when the girl wasn't paying attention), showing josh's name written in the corner of one paper and y/n's in the other.
the president and vp took in the evidence, thanking leighton and reassuring her it wouldn't continue or happen again. the blonde thanked them, and rushed downstairs to tell her roommates she was leaving. 
she had an adorable nerd to take care of.
leighton made the usual 15 minute walk to the library from theta in 12. she scanned her student id and made her way into the building. she found jocelyn who pointed her in the direction of the sleeping girl. leighton's heart broke and melted at the same time.
y/n was asleep on her math textbook, papers surrounding her. leighton got a good look at the girl's face, seeing how the weeks of double work had caught up to her. she carefully got all of y/n's things together, sliding them in the girl's backpack, shouldering it, before waking up the sleeping girl.
y/n groaned as she opened her eyes, seeing leighton in front of her. she sleepily smiled, feeling groggy. "hi leighton, what are you doing here?" the blonde smiled at the girl, gently helping her up. "i'm taking care of you. now come on, we're going back to my dorm."
 leighton guided the girl back to her dorm, occasionally supporting the girl's weight as she sleepily strolled next to leighton. once the two made it back to the dorm, leighton gave her some of her pjs to change into, allowing the girl privacy as she went out to the common room to shoot a text to her roommates. 
when leighton went back into her room, y/n was already halfway back to sleep in leighton's bed. the blonde smiled and changed before sliding into bed next to y/n, pulling the girl into her chest. y/n sighed happily and snuggled closer to leighton. "leight?" the blonde hummed, beginning to run her fingers through y/n's hair. 
"i really like you. a lot. do you wanna go out?" leighton giggled. "let's get you rested up and then we'll talk about it, okay?" the girl nodded and allowed the grasps of sleep to take her, feeling leighton gently kiss her on the forehead.
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a-strange-familiar · 15 days
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an angsty idea: f! Reader flinches during a steamy (not THAT kind of steamy) argument (bonus points for subspace) ends in fluff maybe idk, <33 ur work is *chefs kiss* ily ♥︎♡
Awww. ily too. Hope you enjoy, lovie 💗 and sooo sorry for the late <333
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A/n : I got this request little over a year back and I wrote half of this and completely forgot. I got a random motivation to write this now. I really hope the anon who requested it will have a chance to read it. ♡
And also I reached a milestone (not a VERY big one, but its special to me) on my followers, thank you for all your love and support ❤️
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It's been more than three weeks since Y/n and Harry spent some quality time together. Harry was really busy with work and Y/n understood that and focused on her university work.
But it's actually bugging her. She can't lie saying that she is not feeling insecure. He is a very handsome man. Beautiful, sweet, respectful and understanding. And Y/n also know for a fact that there are many women out there trying to get in his pants or his life. But she know him, he would never do that to her. But she can't help but worry about it though.
So she kept herself busy with school and work both but she miss Harry, so thought about talking to him and having dinner together.
Today especially she had a worst day, not completely worst but worst day of the month. From the moment she woke she felt off. Something is not good and she had a terrible headache but still she went to college and later to work.
But in college she got a bad grade in a test which led up to her professor calling her to his office and giving her an earful. It's her mistake for not preparing properly for the test. And later she had to face a rude costumer at her work, and her whole mood got even worse.
By the time she came home she was feeling very low and sad. All she wanted was to cry her heart out and have some snuggles from Harry. She misses him soo much, they are living in the same house but lately doesn't feel like that.
She opened the door and stepped inside to find the lights are on, she thanked the heavens that Harry is home early. She just want to see him and kiss him.
She is feeling soo subby, not in a sexual way. She wants to be taken care of and loved. She wants Harry to hug and kiss her tears away. She just wants to be near him.
She went inside and figured that Harry is indeed home and in his office. As every step she takes she hear his voice taking in phone with someone and he is clearly stressed and angry.
She went near the door and contemplated about knocking the door or directly opening it. She decided to knock first, she faintly knocked and the talking stopped for a second and continued.
She waited for a couple seconds and slowly opened the door.
There he is, sitting in his office with his phone in one hand and eyes on the laptop infront him with his brows furrowed and visible tension and tiredness his face.
Y/n sticked her head inside the room without entering completely and called his name.
He looked at her for second, and smiled. It's not his smile. It's not a smile at all. He just made his lip form a thin line and nodded his head to let her know that he acknowledged her presence.
She wanted to call his name again but she didn't. He is busy and that's visible, as much as she wants his attention she knows better that interrupting something important.
She turned back and went into their room. Maybe after a bit he will be able give her his attention.
She showered and wore one of Harry's t-shirt and did her night time skincare. And after a good one and half hour she decided to go to Harry and talk.
She knocked on his office again and but this time she heard a faint 'come in' .
"Hi baby" She said softly
"Hi , love." He said in return and looked at her for a second and got back to his work.
Y/n fidgeted with her fingers and thought of something to talk about.
But Harry broke the silence. " how was your day ? "
She felt relived that he asked about it and that she didn't have to start the topic.
"Um.... not very good actually." She said
He looked at her with his brows furrowed and asked "What happened, baby ?"
"Just not feeling good and didn't have a good day at uni and at work." She shrugged
"Ohh, I'm sorry, love."
"Harry do you think we can watch a movie and talk for a bit. I don't really feel good. I could use some cuddled and a kiss." She asked shyly.
"Um...... " he started .
"I'm sorry but I really can't right now ,baby. I have so much of work. I can give you a kiss though." He said and got right back into his work.
Y/n stood there without moving. She wanted to be understood, all she wanted was his attention and his closeness.
For weeks she has been an understanding girlfriend and gave him space and let him prioritize his work, but she had enough.
"Harry, it's been weeks since we spent some time and shared an actual conversation. I have been patient but I think you should be understanding to my needs too." She ranted all her thoughts inside her head.
He lifted his head for his laptop and looked at her with an unreadable expression.
She really wished to know what was going on in that head of his.
"I know. I'm sorry that I haven't given you any attention in weeks but I have work to do, Y/n. I can't abandon them and look after your needs." He said that last part in a very mocking way that made her wince internally.
She sighed and started "Harry, I think -"
"Y/n, I don't have time for your chit-chat. Can't you see I have work to do ?" He yelled at her with fuming expression on his face.
Y/n was caught of guard by the yelling, and flinched and her face colored with shock and fear.
She was never in an abusive relationship that made her react this way. But seeing Harry yell at her made her pretty sacred and also Harry can be pretty scary when he is angry.
By seeing her reaction Harry's eyes softened and regret was written all over his face.
He was about to open his mouth and get up from his chair when y/n took a step back and murmured a small 'sorry' and left the room in a hurry.
Harry's heart clenched seeing that expression on her face. He wanted nothing more than to take those words back. Seeing tears in her eyes was the last thing he wanted to witness. But he already made her cry.
~~~
Y/n rushed to their room with blurry vision and tears streaming down her face. She wiped her face and got onto the bed and buried her face in her soft feather like pillows.
She cried and let her heart feel the pain for few minutes before she stopped.
She wanted to go somewhere else and give Harry some space, but she can't just go to anyone's house in the middle of the night and crash. So she had no choice but to be in their house.
After few more minutes she heard a faint sound of their bedroom door opening but she didn't open her eyes or peered up at Harry to see what he is doing
He got on the bed beside her and ran his hand down her back slowly.
"I'm soo sorry, love " He whispered.
"I really, really am. Work is hectic and I was going through something at office and took it on you. Im sorry and I know I have been distant lately. It's absolutely my fault and nothing to do with you. Im just an arrogant son of a bitch."
He kissed her head let his lips linger for few moments.
His words sounded sincere and y/n also knew he really didn't mean to yell but it's still hurt her.
"Can you please look at me ,baby ?" He asked her in a pleading tone that she couldn't ignore.
She slowly turned towards him and looked at him, his eyes were sad and regret colored his face. She felt bad for a second.
"I'm sorry baby." He said again as he caressed her face gently with his finger.
"Can you please forgive me, my love ? " He asked her as he looked into her eyes with soo much love.
She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. No matter what happened it's really hard for her to be mad at him for long time.
He returned her smile and kissed her lips softy. "I'll make it up for you , baby. What do wanna do ? You still want to watch a movie?"
She shook her head. "No. I think I want to get some rest."
His smile faltered a bit and he felt disappointed but he gave her kiss and stoked her hair. "Whatever you want , my love"
"Can you can lay down with me for a bit if you are not busy ? " She asked in a soft voice still not wanting to come between him and his work.
His smile grew as he laid on the bed with her and opened his arms wide for her to hug him and cuddle.
Without wasting any time she went into his arms and snuggled with him.
He kissed her head and murmured "I love soo much, love. I will never ignore you again "
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A/n : please let me know if you like this and comment and send me asks and interact with me if you like it.
I have been very inactive on this app, but I'm back. Here is small something for you guys. Hope you like it.
As always lots of love. 💗
°•●°°•●°
Thanks for reading.
Hope you enjoyed.
Please like, comment and reblog of you like it.
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend
Chapter Two
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
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Series Masterlist
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"Have you saved your work yet?"
Carlos knew better than anyone how hard she was working. Between writing her next book, using social media to market, and answering emails from her editor, she as flat out. He was incredibly worried about her.
She looked up at him for just a second before saving her work. The moment she did, Carlos pushed the lid of her laptop closed. "Carlos!" She cried. She went to open the laptop again, but Carlos pulled it from the table.
"One hour, mi amor. Give me on hour, and then I've give you your laptop back."
She thought on it. "You promise just an hour?"
"I promise," he said as he stepped towards her, the laptop against his chest. "We can go and get coffee together." He leaned down and pecked her lips.
She pouted as he pulled away. "You're too good to me."
"Because I just love you so much," he said and kissed her again.
***
The story of Carlos Sainz's relationship with Rebecca Donaldson broke in the early hours of the next morning. Neither of them were aware.
Carlos didn't check his phone when he woke up. He went on a run in the early hours of the morning and spent a few hours working out, like he did every day, all while she slept.
When he got back, she was still sleeping. Carlos made two coffees and brought them to the bedroom. Placing them down onto their bedside tables, Carlos leaned over and kissed his head. "Wake up, mi corazón," he said softly.
She stirred awake and glared at her husband. "It's so early," she groaned, pressing her face further into the pillow.
His laugh echoed around their bedroom. "It's not that early, my love. I got you coffee, drink up."
They had just a few hours together before she was having an online meeting with her publishers in her office and Carlos was meeting with the team at Ferrari.
He opened his laptop and logged into the call. He was rarely in a bad mood these days, the team at Ferrari noted. It was a surprise to all of them, especially after the story they had sold to the media that morning. "Carlos, I'm sure you've heard the news."
The smile dropped from Carlos's face, replaced by a frown. "What news?" He asked. He hadn't yet been on any social media, had seen none of the news articles flash up on his phone.
"We made a decision here at Maranello, one we felt would benefit the entire team," somebody else said. "After some recent events, all of which were out of our control, we thought it best to give the media something more digestible. To do so, it was leaked to the press that you were potentially romantically linked to Rebecca Donaldson, the Scottish Model."
All expression dropped from Carlos's face. He turned on his phone and, for the first time, saw the news. The news about him.
The photo of himself with Rebecca Donaldson wasn't obviously photoshopped, but there was no other explanation. There he was, in a picture with a woman he had never met.
"See, the things is, Carlos, what else are we supposed to do? Do you want Ferrari to crumble?"
No, obviously he didn't want that. "But what about the relationships of mine this does affect?" He asked quickly, pulling open his desk drawer and pulling out the ring box. He didn't display it on camera, fiddled with it in his lap. "What if I was in a relationship and I hadn't yet told anyone?"
"You don't want to lose your seat, do you?" It was a dirty ploy, but the Ferrari team was desperate. "You're almost thirty, you have a limited number of wins under your belt and no championships. Will any other team want you?"
Carlos's heart pounded in his chest. "So, I have to go on with this fake relationship and I'll get to keep my seat?"
"Exactly."
He sucked in a deep breath. Just a wall separated him from the love of his life, but here he was, ready to betray her. All for his seat. "What will I have to do?"
The rest of the meeting was spent with the Ferrari team telling Carlos exactly what they wanted from him. Be seen with her at races, have her in the Ferrari garage, take her to dinner sometimes. It was easy enough.
But it wasn't. Because the woman he loved was going to be at the races too, just not with him, not in the way they wanted Rebecca to be with him.
It was too late for him to back out. The press had released several stories about Carlos and Rebecca already.
The call ended, but he just stayed there, sitting in his chair. He flipped open the ring box several times, playing with it in his hands. The ring was gorgeous, simple, elegant. But now, Carlos doubted he'd ever get to put it on her finger.
At the knock on his office door, Carlos shoved the ring back into his desk drawer. "Carlos?" She called as she entered his office. He looked to the door as she walked in. Her shoes clicked softly against the tiled floor as she walked to his desk and sat herself on his lap. "I've got news about the release. It's launching next week."
"I'll be the first to buy it," he said, his hands on her hips.
Just hours ago, this would have been welcome news. The release of her book meant they were one step closer with telling the world about their relationship. But all of that had been thrown out of the window now, and she had no idea.
"I can't wait to kiss you after a race," she said, her head against his shoulder. "I can't wait to be seen with you."
Carlos said nothing. He kissed her head and held her close, relishing in these moments they had together. There was no telling how many more there would be once she found out.
Maybe he could propose to her now. Drop down onto one knee, put the ring onto her finger and kiss her until she forgot how to breathe. But then it would hurt so much more when she found out.
And he couldn't do that to her.
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castiwls · 3 days
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imgonnagetyouback - d.w
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Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; 'you'll find, that you were never not mine (You're mine)'
Requested; anon
Notes; reqs and inbox are open !
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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“He’s on a date?” The book you’d been reading slipped from your hand as the words left your mouth. Sam nodded grabbing his laptop from the table and sending you a slight smile. “He said not to tell you but…” He trailed off shrugging his shoulders. “You were gonna find out anyways.” 
You watch him for a moment, pursing your lips as a pang of jealousy runs through you. Pushing it down you shake your head. “I don’t care.” a lie. “We broke up.” 
Sam paused, watching you for a moment his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the sudden tension in your body. “Sure.” He sounded far from convinced. It wasn't his place to get in between whatever it was you and Dean had going on, he’d tried once before and it had only ended with him being more confused than before.
He watched you for a moment longer as you picked the book back up, slowly thumbing through it. “Night.” He sighed. You hummed a quiet reply your brain going a mile a minute.
He was on a date. You scoffed quietly to yourself placing the book down, you didn’t care. Dean and you weren’t a thing anymore you held no claim over him.
Though the thought of him with another girl left a jealous pit in your stomach. 
Grabbing your phone you quickly checked the time before mindlessly scrolling. At least an hour passed before the sound of footsteps broke the silence which hung in the air. Your head shot up as you looked towards the doorway of the kitchen, a small smile playing on your lips as Dean turned the corner, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed you.
“Good date?” 
He stared at you for a moment before a smile of his own grew on his lips and he nodded. He didn’t say anything else as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer before sitting down opposite you. 
You both fell quiet as you went back to your phone. You could feel Dean’s gaze burning through you as he lent back in his chair. “You jealous?”
You looked up a frown pulling at your lips. “Why would I be?” You placed your phone down, crossing your hands on the table. “Well, you did sit up till I came back and…” He leaned forward slightly placing his chin on your hand. “You have that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're pissed but don’t want anyone to know.”
You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t waiting for you, I was helping Sam.”
“Well…I don’t see Sam anywhere.”
“He went to bed not long ago. That's why.”
Dean hummed leaning back. “I don’t believe you.” He pushed himself up from his chair coming to stand beside you. You turned slightly in your chair, looking up as he stopped in front of you.
“You're jealous. I know you are so you may as well just admit it, Sweetheart.” He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting slightly as he nudged your foot with his own.
You glared up at him, your teeth catching on your lip. Part of you really wanted to punch that smirk on his face in that moment, but you also couldn’t deny the way your heart seemed to flutter at his closeness.
“M’not jealous.” You smiled moving to stand. Your breath caught in your throat slightly as your arm brushed his. “I don’t care. We broke up, You're not mine anymore you can do as you like.” 
Dean flattered slightly at your comment as he seemed to think for a moment. “Anyways, can’t have been that good. I don’t see her anywhere.” You hummed before moving to brush past him.
You barely got two steps before a hand wrapped around your wrist. Dean pulled you back, caging you in as your back hit the edge of the table. Your hands flew back to steady yourself as he planned his own beside them. 
“I know what you're doing.” He leaned down his breath ghosting against your lips. “And it’s not going to work.” 
You took a breath, your face still calm as you held his gaze. “I’m not doing anything.” 
He laughed quietly shaking his head. “You waited here on purpose and you knew damn well that I didn’t like her the minute I walked through that door yet you still questioned me.” He looked away for a moment before turning his attention back to you. 
“You think I was trying to rile you up?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. He was right. You’d known the minute he walked in alone that the date couldn’t have gone that well and you’d also realised that he’d be riled up just enough that if you played your cards right you’d end up getting exactly what you wanted.
And what you wanted back what was rightfully yours. 
This was far from the first break-up you and Dean had ever had and every time it ended exactly the same. You’d break up, he’d go on a date - it hopefully wouldn't go well, he’d come back riled up, and within 24 hours you’d be back together again like nothing had ever happened.
He shook his head, a fond smile growing on his lips. “C’mere.” His lips pressed against yours and you practically melted into his body. 
It was a game you both played. He equally knew how to pull your strings and every time it worked. 
After a moment he pulled back, one of his hands moving to rub circles into your waist. “Bedroom?”
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multifandomgirl08 · 8 months
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To Constantly Be Away [Mini Verstappen Series]
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Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Second race of the season and Max is already having a tough time with the car. Missing his family only makes it worse.
Warning(s): Fluff
A/N: I stayed up late watching qualifying and the race in Singapore while working on this, and took out my stress watching that on Mini Verstappen verse Max.
Words: 1.7k
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It had been a bad weekend for Max, the car wasn’t running right with the new upgrades that had been added. They were starting P10 in the race. Y/N couldn’t fly to Jeddah with Nico because she was on call through the weekend. Everything was just going horribly wrong.
“Max!” He heard Christian call him over. “I know that you’re not in the best spirits right now, but I need to make sure that you’re okay.”
Christian did occasionally still check in with him before races, but given that Max hadn’t felt like this since before Daniel had left Red Bull. It felt nice that Christian could still pick up on those things after all this time.
“Call Y/N if you have to, find a way to talk to her or Nico.” Christian laid a hand on Max’s arm. “I know you’ll feel better for it once you have.”
Max tried to manage a smile but just gave him a stiff nod at the end.
Y/N had texted him when she got out of helping one of her co-workers with an issue one hour after he was already at the track for the race. She let him know that Nico had been sitting in front of the TV all afternoon waiting for the race to start before ordering an early dinner. In the photo that she sent, he could see her laptop open to her work email, Nico on his spot on the couch hugging one of the throw pillows. It had made some of Max's nerves go away but he still needed to talk to her at least for a few minutes.
He tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone, looking at the photo of her and Nico napping in his and Y/N’s bed. He let his phone unlock before pulling up his contacts and pressing on Y/N’s name. He stared at it for a few seconds before putting his phone up to his ear.
“Hello?” He heard her voice.
Max let his shoulders deflate, “Mijn leeuwin?” He stammered out.
“Hey Maxy,” She didn’t call him that often, only when she thought he really needed the comfort.
“Hi,” He weakly replied.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” He choked out, trying to brush off the sound of concern in her voice. He didn’t want to make Y/N upset or let her know how horrible he was feeling about being in the car. There was nothing that she could do to make the car better for him to drive.
He didn’t want to be at the track without his family. It felt wrong. He knew that Nico and Y/N were watching at home, and were supporting him even if they couldn’t be there but he selfishly wanted them here.
He heard Y/N sigh over the phone, “Do you want to talk to Nico? He’s coloring in front of the TV.”
“No, it’s not that bad.” He let slip out. He didn’t want to alarm her about how he was feeling. Brad would be coming into his driver's room soon before the race and he just needed a few moments to collect himself.
“Can you tell me about him? Tell me what he’s doing.” He asked.
“Sure,” He didn’t know if she was doing anything for work at the moment. But he knew that if she was, she was putting it aside for a few moments to calm him down. He could imagine her sitting on the couch with the caramel cashmere Hermés blanket thrown over her legs that had been gifted to them after they had moved. He could feel some of the pain of his headache slowly seep away as Y/N talked about Nico seeing Christian on the TV asking when was the next time that he could see Grandpa and Grandma GG. Max couldn’t help the smile that broke out when remembering that Nico couldn’t pronounce Geri’s name. It always ended up sounding like Gewy. The more she talked the more Max felt like he was in the right headspace to get inside the car. 50 laps, media, and then once he got on the plane he would be on his way home to his family.
They had talked until Brad had come into Max’s room to help him get ready for the race. Max had begrudgingly said goodbye.
“I love you.” He heard from Y/N.
“Love you, Papa!” He heard Nico yell. “Good luck.”
“I love you too, both of you.” He said cradling the phone in his hand. “Be home soon.”
Max pulled the phone away from his ear, giving Brad a small nod. Ready to go out there and give the race his all.
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As the race went on it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It wasn’t great, the major issues with the car seemed to go away after qualifying luckily. It was running closer to what he was used to. Even with those issues, he had somehow managed to finish P3. It felt like a miracle given how the weekend had been going.
He avoided the press as much as he could until he had to go for his post-race press conference and talk to the other journalists.
Everything felt so draining today. Normally he would talk to the team, and try to figure things out with GP about what went wrong earlier in the weekend but he just wanted to go home. He knew it was the thing that would set his head right.
Once his car got to the private airport, the next four hours passed by rather slowly. It was too quiet on the plane, Nico wasn’t bothering the stewardess on board about snacks, and Y/N wasn’t carding her fingers through his hair while she aimlessly checked her phone. He would normally end up taking a nap throughout the flight. She would wake him up slowly. He would start to grumble that she woke him up before her laugh would kick in. It was the best sound that he could hear after a long day on the track.
The drive from the airport was taking too long. Once he got to the house, he pulled into the garage. It took him almost no time to get his bag, lock his car, and make his way through the side door before walking into the living room.
Max quietly closed the door. Given how late it was Nico was probably asleep. Y/N would let him stay up to watch the race but once it was over, podium or not Y/N would have Nico get ready for bed.
He placed his keys in the bowl by the door, quietly walking through the house that was still covered in half-unpacked boxes. He went downstairs, walking by Nico's room to see the light turned off. Max opened the door, the hall light showing Nico's empty bed and missing pillow. That could only mean one thing...
He quietly walked towards the master bedroom, pushing open the door that was half closed. The moon casting a shadow over the bed, to see Y/N and Nico asleep under the covers, his side of the bed, open and waiting for him.
Nico normally wasn’t allowed to sleep in here with him and Y/N. Unless he had a nightmare, Nico would sleep in his own bed. She probably made an exception tonight because she didn’t know when his flight was going to get in.
He moved to the foot of the bed to take off his shoes.
"Max?" He heard as he slipped his shoes off. Then left them at the foot of the bed, making a mental note to put them away in the morning.
He turned his head to see Y/N barely awake, leaning against the pillows. Max shrugged off his jacket before walking over to her.
"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He was quick to kiss her forehead.
Over the last month since the wedding, Max had stopped questioning how Y/N fit into his life. The way that she could accept everything that was going on with his schedule and Nico. She took it all with so much grace. He never knew that someone could.
“Hey.” She muttered.
“I’ll change and then be in bed.” He watched her slightly nod until she laid her head back against the pillow. Nico turned over and moved to curl up next to her.
He was quick to remove his shirt and took off the skinny jeans that he was wearing, his socks getting stuck in the denim before throwing all of it into the laundry basket in the bathroom. His feet tapped against the cold tile, the transition of the wood doing nothing to warm his feet.
Max pulled back the sheets from his side of the bed being careful not to wake Nico. He took off his watch, put it on his nightstand, and then climbed under the black sheets of the bed. Max turned over towards his son and wife, pulling them in closer. All of the stress from the race seeping out of him, finally feeling like himself again.
Not Mad Max, not Super Max. Just Max.
Max closed his eyes, just letting himself lay there for a few moments. Taking in the quiet sound of the house, Nico sleeping next to him, Y/N within arms reach. He reached over, lightly stroking her cheek. He looked over meeting her eyes in the dark. He could see her lips form the question, "Are you okay?"
He nodded back brushing his thumb over her cheek again seeing her eyes flutter closed.
It blew Max away sometimes that this was his life. That by the age of 27 he had a wife and a child. The WDCs were nice and they were things that he was happy he had achieved, but this right here was what mattered to him most. The people that he got to come home to after stressful weekends and hard-fought victories. This was what was important to him.
Max settled further into his pillow ready to let sleep take him when he felt short hair brush over his arm. He opened one eye to see Nico had moved his head to rest against his shoulder. Max kissed the side of his son’s head, finally letting sleep take him.
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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months
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I really resonated with Daryl x abused reader could you maybe do one where the reader doesn’t let their past define them and shows little signs of abuse like they’re super cheery and happy and doesn’t let their past get them down and but maybe reader has a ptsd attack by Daryl after he confronts her about being so happy especially in an apocalypse and they just realize they relate to each other even if they’re personalities are so drastically and Daryl just comforts reader 🫂
The Painted Bunting
Era: Greene Farm
Summary: Daryl is paired with you on the search for Sophia and snaps at you after growing tiresome of your seemingly endless kindness.
Note: No more laptop for now since the cord broke so I hope you’ll all forgive the lack of my usual post formatting :(
Warnings: profanity, mentions of past abuse, grumpy sassy asshole Daryl (the man we originally fell in love with)
Banner credits on this post
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        Shining hair in the rays of the sun, an infectious laugh, a beaming grin that never seemed to dissipate. A glowing beacon in the dark. That was what you were. And, admittedly, it got under his skin a little, so Daryl tended to avoid you. You weren’t oblivious to it, but you accepted it for what it was. After all, you couldn’t win them all, right? 
        You had always been that way; soft, gentle, graceful, kind. If you had never let the past change that for you, you certainly wouldn’t let present day events change it, either. Maybe the world had become a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you had to be one too. 
        Daryl thought that what really gritted his teeth about you was that through everything that had happened, you never changed a single bit. Not like the others had; not like he had. 
        After the world fell, after the camp by the quarry was overrun, after the CDC, after Sophia had gone missing, you remained exactly the same. For all of the afore mentioned, Daryl found you to be one of the most vexing people he ever had the displeasure of interacting with, second only to Shane, who could have easily been traded off for his own brother, Merle.
        Needless to say, he was peeved at the idea that you were sent on search duty with him after he hurt himself in the ravine. Rick decided a buddy system would be beneficial to all of the search party participants, and you volunteered to tag along, because of course you did.
        You weren’t so much looking forward to spending so much one on one time with the man, yourself. You didn’t necessarily have an issue with him, but you were all too aware of the issue he seemed to have with you. Really, you couldn’t relate to him at all. Not everyone around camp was perky and sweet, and rightfully so, but Daryl was such a brooding presence and you just couldn’t put yourself in that frame of mind.
        The two of you had set out just after dawn and the hours ticked by as you made friendly conversation and Daryl occasionally offered you a measly grunt in response. 
        “Do you think we’ll find anyone out here?” You asked. “I mean, aside from Sophia. I know we’ll find her.”
        “Pro’ly better if we don’t find nobody else.” Was his first verbal response all day. You shrugged. 
        “I don’t know. Could be good. I’m sure there are people who could really use some help.”
        “Ain’t our problem.” He argued. “Gotta look out for our own. The hell you worried about helpin’ strangers for when we ain’t even found the little girl we’re after?” 
        “Oh, no.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I was just —“ You cut yourself off, sensing an oncoming ramble. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 
        “Mm.” He hummed, pausing his footsteps to take a breath and scan his surroundings. After a moment, he continued forward, and you followed without question . Admittedly, you had no clue how to track, so if anything you were there in case he got hurt.
        “So, if someone needed your help… You wouldn’t help?” You asked innocently.
        He whipped around to face you, the aggression behind his motion drawing you to a dead stop.
        “The hell’s your problem, huh?” He snapped. You blinked. “It’s the end of the goddamn world and you’re askin’ me about some hypothetical moral dilemma? Let me tell you somethin’, girl; ain’t no damn morals in the apocalypse. Ain’t no more law and order! It’s just us,” he paused, sending an arrow through the skull of a walker that had crept up behind you. You flinched and turned to watch its carcass thud on the forest floor. “And them.” He concluded. 
        “I—I was just making conversation.” You mumbled timidly. 
        “Why? It’s not a social call! We’re out here to find that little girl. This is why I didn’t need no damn babysitter.” He complained.
        “I was just trying to be nice.” You defended.
        “Nice?” He scoffed. That simple word seemed to trigger something in him as his eyes lit up with aggravation. “Don’t you get it? It ain’t about bein’ nice anymore. It’s about survival. Got dead people standin’ up and eatin’ people and you’re worried about bein’ nice. Walkin’ around passin’ out water and food and gigglin’ with everybody like we ain’t got a bunch o’ dead bodies stumblin’ around us just waitin’ to take a bite out.” 
        Maybe it was the way he raised his voice, or the way his eyes shot flaming daggers of fury right through your chest, or the way he threw his arms down and spat words at you like you were some puny, wretched little thing. You didn’t know what it was, but somewhere in the whirlwind of heated exchange, his voice slowly blended together with the other voice — the one that still lived in the back of your mind and ate away at you every day.
        The voice that belonged to your own father, the one person who struck true, genuine fear in you. Before you knew it, that old sensation of real terror, the one you’d buried somewhere deep inside you and covered with cement, was breaking free and engulfing you. 
        You were frozen, like a fawn under the scrutinizing gaze of a predator. The humid air felt like a thick paste as you struggled to gulp it down and catch a breath. At first, Daryl felt inclined to criticize your tears as a show of weakness, fragility, inability to handle a little raise of the voice. He quickly noticed, however, that this was no simple burst of reactionary emotions. No, this was something much deeper and it was rattling you to the core. There was a distant look in your wide eyes, one that he came to recognize, even if it took him a minute. 
       He shifted on his feet, scanning you, unsure how to intervene. 
        “Hey.” He eventually called out, but it was clear his voice wasn’t reaching you. This was the final piece of confirmation he needed. You were having an episode, the kind he experienced a few times when he first got out of his father’s abusive home. 
        He sighed and grabbed your trembling shoulders. You jumped but you didn’t flee or strike out. His touch seemed to dry you out and shrivel you up like a raisin. You shrank into yourself, hyperventilating. 
        “C’mon.” He said softly, ushering you done to your knees. “Hey. Ya gotta breathe.” 
        Your breathe only became more shallow and forced. Tears poured down your cheeks as your chest got tighter. 
        “Just breathe. That’s the only way it’s gonna stop.” He urged. He went to grab your wrists but you panicked, snatching your arms away and falling down on your back. 
        “No! Get away! You can’t do this anymore! I’m not a little kid!” You cried out.
        You were making quite a bit of noise by this point, between the gasps for air and the sobs. He crouched over you and grabbed your shoulders. 
        “(Y/N), ya ain’t there anymore. Wherever it is, it’s gone. In the past. It’s just you and me right now, and we ain’t there. We’re here.” He soothed, hoping his voice could find you somewhere in the abyss. “Just listen. Ya hear that? It’s a Painted Bunting. Look,” he pointed up into a tree at a bright multicolored bird, similar in its beauty to a parrot, only much smaller. “It’s right up there. Ya see it?” 
        Your breathing had started to slow down now, those shallow inhales finally reaching a little deeper within. Your eyes lazily followed his finger to the bright little bird singing a flute-like melody. 
        “Ya see it?” He asked again. You managed to nod once, still holding your arms tightly to your chest as you laid flat on the bed of leaves and twigs. He took a moment to see you, to really take you in, and he realized you were beautiful. Not just in the way a pretty girl with a nice personality was beautiful, but in a way that left so much of who you really were unsaid.
        “Just watch it.” He whispered, glancing back up at the feathered creature, hoping it would stick around long enough to bring you back down to earth. “They take two years to look that pretty. Did ya know that?” He asked, glancing back down at you. Your eyes were still on the bird, but you shook your head no. “Yeah. Only the males, too.” He added. “Otherwise, they’re just kinda greenish and yellowish.” 
        Once your chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, you finally looked over at him. Humiliation began to set in. You quickly sat yourself up and brushed the dead foliage away from your clothes and hair. 
        “I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.” 
        “‘S okay.” He shrugged, standing himself back up as well. “Happens.”
        “Yeah, we’ll, it shouldn’t. Not nowadays.” 
        “Can’t help it when it does.” He assured you. “I get it.”
        “Maybe I should head back.” You suggested.
        “We both can. If ya wanna. It’ll be dark soon anyways.”  
        “I don’t wanna make you lose your trail or.. Ya know.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.
        “Nah. Ain’t no use after dark, anyways. We’d just be stumbling in circles and bumpin’ into each other.” He insisted, contrastingly soft in comparison to before your episode. 
        “Oh. Right.” You nodded. Just as you got ready to turn back toward the farm, he cleared his throat.
        “Ya wanna talk about it?”
        “About what?” You turned back to him. He shifted his weight anxiously, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Offering an ear to listen was at least ten yards outside the perimeter of his comfort zone. “About that?” You asked. “That was nothing. Just something stupid that happens sometimes. That’s all.”
        While his tone was much kinder and warmer than before, yours was cold, dull, and tired. Those episodes could take a lot out of a person, and he was no stranger to that fact. 
        “Sometimes it helps.” He said. “Talkin’ about it. Makes it a little less…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted. “Less, uh… Consuming.”
        “It never gets less consuming.” You argued.
        “It does.” He insisted. 
         “And how would you know?” You asked, impatience lacing your words.
        “I used to get ‘em too.” He admitted. “Been awhile but… I just get it. That’s all.”
        You studied him. In all the weeks you’d spent around the man, you’d never seen him so genuine, or really so open. He never seemed to look at you like another person. You were always just another load on his shoulders. 
        “My dad.” You finally spoke. He nodded.
        “Me too.” 
        “I’m sorry.” You sympathized.
        “Me too.” He agreed. 
        “We should go.” You sighed, turning away again. 
        This time you didn’t wait for him, you just started walking, until he called out behind you; “‘M sorry.” You stood still, but you didn’t look back. He knew he had your attention, though, and he knew he had to say something else. “I know I did it this time. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at ya like that.”
        “It’s okay. Maybe you were right.” 
        “Nah.” He shook his head, taking slow steps to catch up to you. “I wasn’t. It’s good. Ya didn’t let none of that shit make ya bitter. Keep it that way. Else you’ll end up a grumpy redneck.” He joked. You suppressed the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.
        “Maybe the grumpy rednecks of the world got it figured out.” You said, walking again once you felt him catch up. 
        “Nah. I don’t know shit about shit.” He admitted, eliciting a small laugh from you. You shook your head.
        “I don’t think anyone does.” You reasoned.
        On the hike back to the Greene farm, you two shared some light banter, some stories of the past, some laughs and extended looks. He grew finder of you that day. The critical glares he’d send you from a distance were replaced with admiration and respectful nods. You’d often catch him looking and flash him a big smile, waving at him before you attention was drawn elsewhere. 
       You both learned that maybe the two of you were differently colored fruit, but you grew from the same tree, and you weren’t so different after all. And, that sentiment was never lost or forgotten. It carried with you for as long as you two knew each other. 
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babygorewhore · 6 months
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Prey
Part one
Part two
After text messages from Rafe Cameron who completely ruined your night at his party, he knows every move you make and asserts his intentions through text messages. This starts a game to see how far Rafe will go to make you his, even if that means threats of punishments.
The horny demon took over with this guys. WC. 4,500
Warnings! Not a ton of plot. Dark! Rafe! Stalking! Panty stealing! Perv Rafe! Idk if she’s considered kind of bimbo because she’ caves in easily or what. Take it as you will. Female and male masterbation! Drug use,threats of violence and actual violence! Gun play! BDSM themes! One use of the Daddy! Choking!Degrading! Drinking! Hate fucking! spanking! unprotected sex! Reader is alternative but clothing is relatively generalized so it’s still inclusive. Damn that’s a lot of warnings.
Two days since your last text from Rafe Cameron. He knew about breakfast with John B. You tried not to check your phone as often as you wanted but the anxiety was hard to ignore. It was so insane. He just decided he wanted you after a bet. Why?
You kept tearing apart your room for any sign of a camera, microphone and you even taped the camera of your laptop for good measure. Maybe if you stayed home, that would be the best. But he knew what was going on. How?
John B asked you if you wanted to go to their traditional bonfire with the Pouges. You wanted to say no but maybe spending time with them would deter Rafe from his apparent need to text you vile things. You’d have a barrier. Surely, he couldn’t scare them all off.
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It wasn’t as hot in the evening and you were thankful for that. Sarah gave you an extra pair of flip flops, but she did make sure they were black. You wore them and a black mid thigh dress. It was flowy and comfortable. But it was missing something as you sat down on a beach chair.
You left your underwear at home, on your bed. It was a test. To see if he really was getting in your house or he would go that far. It was a really bold move but you wanted bait him. Maybe if he broke in, you’d have something to report.
“Earth to you-“ A hand waved in front of your face.
“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled and adjusted your skirt. “What were you saying?”
“How are you? Since the whole bet thing happened?” Kie asked and you breathed heavily. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Apparently just with the videos disappearing wasn’t enough. “I’m okay. Doubtful I’ll ever swim in a pool again.” You started twirling the end of your hair nervously as time ticked.
No text yet. Maybe this was working. Maybe he was bluffing.
“We’ll kick his ass. Piece a shit picking on a Pouge.” JJ crushed a beer can and glared. “I’m sick of him getting away with it. We need to do something.”
“My brothers crazy. He would probably kill you.” Sarah pointed out and leaned further into John B.
“The fuck he would! He’s just some rich little punk whose never been put in his place.” JJ argued and you started to panic inside.
That was the furthest thing from the truth. You knew Rafe wasn’t just some punk. You didn’t even know him but you trusted your instincts.
“Guys, really. It’s okay. They’re taken down and it’s what I needed. I don’t need protection.” You insisted. God the suspense was killing you. Were you an idiot? Probably.
“Something weird happened today,” John B interrupted, “When I got into the car before her, I had this weird feeling someone was watching me,”
He started but you tuned him out as the night went on. You still didn't mention the texts. You didn’t wanna stir up anymore threats from JJ. You thought about the way he kissed that girl. His big hands roaming all over her hips and ass. It was so wrong for you to think about that considering how much of a dick he was.
But you couldn’t help it.
You were also scared shitless when you closed your bedroom door after you both arrived home, Sarah joining John B. You didn’t want to see that…so you locked your door.
You covered your mouth with both hands when you saw your panties. They were on your pillow and you could see even from here, they were wet and drying on the sides. Your bed was messy, your drawers moved open.
He had been here.
You carefully moved closer, gingerly lifting them. The creamy substance was evident on what it was. He came on it. And from the way it was almost dripping, multiple times. You dropped it on the floor and dug in your dresser.
All your panties were gone. Your mouth was wide open with shock.
You stepped forward, prepared to tell John B that Rafe Cameron broke into his home when your phone finally buzzed.
Frantically you brought it to your face.
“Put them on.”
Oh no. Was he serious? How did he know-there must have been a camera. Where was it?
“Put it on, or I’ll kill him.”
“You wouldn’t.” You speedily responded. Growing angry. How dare he threatened him. Just to get what he wanted in his perverted mind. “That’s a pussy ass threat.”
“Who says it’s a threat? I know exactly where he goes. When he goes. And who he talks too. I know everything about this place. And I know everything about you.”
Chills ran down your spine.
“I don’t believe you.” You started breathing heavier as you clutched at your chest. He wasn’t joking. You knew that. If he was rich enough to afford that house without a second glance, surely he could pull this off.
“You graduated with impressive grades, you’re an only child, you have a habit of reading kinky porn, your parents owned a music store for three decades. John B is your cousin on your Mothers side and you…you’ve only had one boyfriend. Chris. From high school.”
Your knees almost gave out. Everything was true. Not all of those things were even on your instagram. Fuck, not even your FRIENDS knew some of that shit. How did he find out? Did he run some sort of-
“You ran a fucking background check on me?” You typed in all caps, your thumbs slapping on the screen. “ARE YOU INSANE? JUST STOP IT AND DON'T THREATEN JOHN B!”
“Then put them on.”
You weren’t getting out of this. “Okay if I put them on, what then?”
“Lay down on the bed.”
You slithered them on, his cum coating your pussy as you rubbed your thighs together. Maybe it was your own fault with this experiment but he would have done it anyway.
Your back met the top of the covers and you had the image of his leaking cock around the material. Spilling onto the silk and lace. You spread your legs, assuming that’s what he wanted.
“No, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or cum. Not unless I’m inside you with my cock, fingers or tongue. This is just showing your pussy exactly who gets to cum in it. The longer you fight this, I’ll punish you. And I don’t think you’ll like that.”
“Punish me?”
“That’s what I said. If you’re not a good girl, then your little pouge friends are gonna pay. Do you understand me?”
You wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off. “No I don’t speak asshole, I did it. I put them on and now you leave me alone.”
You closed your phone and decided you wouldn’t listen to anything he said. Laying back down, you pulled off the underwear easily and it’s slick smeared on your inner thighs.
You were pent up from sadness, anger and now spite. If he was watching, then you’d put on a fucking show. Spreading your legs, your fingers delicately teasing your cunt and you started circling your clit. You twitched and clenched around the air as your own wetness combined with his. He couldn’t possibly read your thoughts. His muscular arms would hold the headboard as he pounded into you.
You liked challenging him. Secretly, that’s one of the things that made you wet. Talking back to him. Your core tightened as your speed increased before you slipped two small fingers inside, curling them up. They couldn’t reach the spot you wanted. You tried to move at a different angle before settling on just playing with your clit.
You curled up when you came, harder than usual and you bit your lip to keep from making too much noise.
After calming, you hesitated before clicking on your phone.
“Oh, pretty girl. I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
That was all he said.
Now, you were trembling again. The threat echoed. You started biting your nails. What would happen? What punishment was he talking about?
It wasn’t like he would break in with John B here or would he? He wasn’t concerned about your cousin in the slightest.
You took some initiative. If he knew so much about you, you could return the favor. Have something on him.
You googled his name.
Rafe Cameron, eldest and only son holding Cameron’s name after Ward and Rose Cameron’s passing.
Rafe Cameron, under thirty CEO bringing numbers to the maximum within two years.
You sighed, only getting a superficial history of his age and family line. Huffing, you needed more. There was one option. You went to instagram and found his official and only account. Your mouth went dry. His photos consisted of golf yards, parties and two photos of him wearing a suit next to a giant table in an office that looked like it was in the future.
Absolutely nothing. Nothing to go on. And nothing to rub in his face. Of course.
An idea came to you. Maybe you couldn’t find anything online. But you had an entire group of rebels who could tell you everything you needed to know. You smirked. Finally, you could get back at him.
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“So, John B, was it…hard to be Sarah’s boyfriend? I mean the war between Pouges and Kooks seems pretty intense.” You sat at the dock while he tackled some sort of contraption, working back and forth between boats. It was a half lie when you said you wanted to go with him while he worked.
But you needed information. You didn’t get a text yet but you knew that wasn’t defeat on his part.
“For a while,yeah. Topper made it his mission to come after me. We got into it a few times, then he pushed me. I broke my wrist. Rafe…it’s complicated.”
You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to look too interested. “How?” For good measure, you played with the end of your skirt. All your panties were gone and you were trying not to shift every five seconds.
“Rafe’s crazy. He used to be this out of control, frat boy cocaine addict and he was,” John B stops moving, “Dead set on destroying us. Came at us with guns. He’s dangerous but now he’s got money. All the money.”
Your heart fluttered. And now, Rafe had his sights on you.
“What about their other sister..?”
“She lives with him. He almost shipped her off to boarding school but I guess she’s his one soft spot. Sarah talks to her sometimes. That’s why I was upset you went to that party. They’re bad people. Stay away from him.” His warning makes you nod.
But would he stay away from you?
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A week later, you arrived at the Pouge spot with John B that was even marked by a tree they carved. You carried a cooler of booze as you got closer to the circle but you, John B and Sarah realized Pope and JJ were missing
You were all searching for at least ten minutes now, you called out his name, cupping your hands. “Pope! JJ! Where are you?”
Your converse were getting in the way of the sand and you finally stopped being stubborn, removing them as you maneuver through the woods. You were alone and it felt uncomfortable.
The moon was illuminating your ring clad fingers as a snap of a branch caught your attention. “Pope?”
A large strong hand covered your mouth and you eyes widened, you were being yanked off the ground and carried off. “Mm-he-“ You tried to form words but the hand pressed harder. You kicked, flailed but to no avail.
The assailant dragged you off to a darker corner where you saw a unconscious Pope and JJ lying on the ground as you were pushed against a tree.
Rafe stood in front of you, even in the darkness you could still see the desire and anger in his eyes. “Scream and I’ll kill them.” He growled. “Can I trust you?”
You nodded rapidly, glancing between him and your friends.
“Good girl,” He approved, his hand sliding to your throat. He didn’t even bother wearing black to blend in. His beige shirt was layered with another light jacket and dark jeans.
Rafe’s hair was in his eyes and he leaned in closer. “I told you. I’d punish you if you didn’t do as your told.” Your core fluttered. You knew it shouldn’t but his voice was rasping as his hand tightened. He pulled something out of his pocket.
A pair of red panties. He shoved them into your mouth, far enough you gaged. “Stay fucking still.” You knew if you didn’t listen he would hurt them, he proved that.
Pope and JJ had bruises, swollen eyes and bloody noses. But they were breathing. You started jerking around, trying to gain some sort of release from his hold when Rafe yanked out a gun. You gasped, the sound muffled. “Yeah? You see that?” He pointed it at them. “Do you think I’m kidding?”
Rafe pulled out the panties, a string of drool escaping from your mouth. “Answer me.”
“No-I know you’re not kidding.” Tears came from your eyes but you tried to pull them back.
“My poor little angel, not so tough now, are you?”
“Fuck you-“ Another attempt to defy, fake like you weren’t as scared as you truly were. “You’re bluffing.”
He pressed you harder against the wood. His iron clad muscles pinning you hard enough it hurt. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” Then he moved the gun between your shorts. Grazing against your jean covered pussy.
“This is fucking real, princess.” Rafe started smirking. “Move around a little bit. Give me a hint of how well you can bounce on a dick.”
Your face became hot but you obeyed without thinking. You circled your hips, holding your breath and praying the gun wouldn’t go off. He nodded, his lips nearing yours and your mouth parted.
“Rafe-Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?” You whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot of your neck. They were warm and soft in contrast to the gun rubbing against your pussy.
“Because you’re mine. That first day I saw you. I was going to have you. John B couldn’t hoard away something that belonged to me.” You wanted to shake your head but he started sucking the connection between your shoulder and neck.
That’s why he stared at you. That’s why he even started the bet in the first place.
“I liked how you stood out with your fucking band shirt and converse you won’t stop wearing. And this,” He pulled back to your displeasure and tapped the gun against your cunt.
“That belongs to me too. I’m gonna walk away, you’re going to yell to your cousin you found them. Feel free to scream and pretend you’re not soaking wet. And you’re going to be a good girl again, aren’t you? You gonna to listen to daddy?”
“Yes.” He stepped away, taking your panties with him. He scanned the scene, nodding behind you.
“Don’t disobey me. This can get so much worse,” With his final warning, Rafe started walking backward before he disappeared.
You waited a few seconds to collect yourself. He teased you but not enough to make you cum. Just enough to mark his territory and scare you.
“J-John B!” You weakly called out. “I found them!”
He arrived in seconds with Sarah right behind him.
John B, Sarah and Kie panicked, trying to wake JJ and Pope. You hastily wiped your face and shook your hair loose.
“I-I just found them like that. I’ve been searching the whole time,” You lied, hoping your voice was steadier than how you felt.
You stayed quiet as they woke by the fire. Your knee bouncing as flashbacks of how the gun felt, Rafes lips. His warnings and worse. How much you liked it.
When no one was looking, too busy planning their wild accusations downfall, you took out your phone. He had texted you.
“Behave.”
You pressed your knees together, concealing your phone behind them. “What will it take for you to leave them alone?”
“That’s a dangerous question, little girl.”
You had to change your tactic. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually shoot them.
“When will I see you again? I don’t want you to break in anymore. If you want something, just take it.” Oh no, the words slipped out before you could even think.
Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes went by.
An hour.
“Tomorrow. My house. 8pm. Wear what’s in the box in your bedroom. I’ll have someone pick you up.”
The tense drive home couldn’t have ended sooner as you stepped in your bedroom. Continuing to lie to your cousin about what happened in the woods. You knew he wasn’t stupid. Eventually he would catch on that something was happening. But his life probably depended on it. This was going too far.
You were so stupid for opening the white small box on the center of your bed.
Lifting the lid, your eyes widened as you pulled out a black lace shirt, matching bra, a thong and shorts that would barely cover your ass. Knee socks and connecting garter belts. But the most toe curling item in the box was a pair of black handcuffs. Expensive kind.
You held them to your chest. You’d have to wear something over them to get past John B. Your conscience fought you, insisting to tell John B. Rafe almost killed his friends.
But he felt so good. It was so wrong that it was right. You almost didn’t care right now. He was obsessed with you and you weren’t any better. The way you spent time trying to find information, the way you listened to every word he said. He was breaking you down. You almost didn’t recognize the person you were when you arrived.
Rafe Cameron was intoxicating and you’d only seen him twice.
Third times the charm right?
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He had his own personal fucking driver pick you up the next night. You left when John B was passed out in his room, worn out from a day at the docks. You slipped on an oversized black shirt long enough to hit your thighs as you climbed into the car. You were disappointed that there were no texts today but you had a feeling he was going to make up for it. Or else you’d face another punishment.
The drive was quiet but when you arrived at his house it wasn’t. Another wild party scene was before you, the same changing colored lights on the outside and consistently bright on the balcony. As you got out of the car and started walking, this time wearing your high heels. Only this time you were wearing a hand selected piece from the King Of Kooks.
You hoped you could slip in easily through the front door silently but someone opened the door. He was shorter than Rafe, dark brown hair, wearing a wife beater and shorts. “My bad, come on in.” He ushered you in with a wave and you cringed.
Obviously he knew you. Whether from Rafe or the videos.
“And you’re…?”
“Just like Country club not to mention anyone else. Barry.” He gave you a nod. “He’s up there.”
You couldn’t help but shiver as everyone was dancing, drinking and making their way to the outdoor pool. You understood this could be another set up.
Barry dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a bag full of cocaine, apparently offering you some.
“I’ll pass,” You declined and forced yourself to smile and calm your nerves. You could do this. You had too
You wanted too.
Climbing the stairs in high heels was difficult enough but fighting a crowd made it even harder. You couldn’t hardly concentrate and you had the urge to plug your ears to muffle the noise.
Once you reached the top, close to the balcony, your phone buzzed. Embarrassingly, you yanked it out of your clutch.
“Colder.” You jerked your head around, looking for any sign of him. No one. He wasn’t here. No one looked even close to him.
You went left towards another lounge, peering inside the darker room where they were dancing.
“Even colder.”
Okay, you were very clearly not in the right direction.
But you needed something to give you a boost. Marching towards a brunette young man holding two cups, you reached out your hand. “Can I have that?” He stammered but handed it over.
Without even knowing the content, you gulped it down before gagging. Whatever concoction was strong and had you coughing.
But then you took the other one. “Hey!” He protested but you ignored him, going to the opposite side.
You threw them both on the ground, a surge of electricity going through your veins.
“Warmer.” It said when you fished out your phone from your bra.
You resisted wiping your mouth, not wanting to ruin your makeup. Your legs carried you down a hallway, the noise growing into a quieter thump against the walls. There were no photos. Almost no signs of living if you imagined the guests gone. The clacking of your shoes neared the first door.
“Hot. Almost there.”
Swallowing, you walked past the second door.
“Hotter.”
You breathed like you were blowing out a candle as you drew to the third door.
“Open it, pretty girl.”
The alcohol must have given you an extra boost as you opened the door roughly, your lips forming a natural pout as you took in Rafe standing beside a bed. He was wearing a three quarter length white shirt with small strips and the same dark jeans as he did in the woods. His hair was messy, like he constantly ran his fingers through it.
His entire body radiated danger, lust and control.
But his eyes held a fire, one you were terrified and eager to provoke.
To the right of him was a large desk with several monitors and a laptop. Your mouth parted into a gasp when you saw they were all live feeds.
One of them was outside your room, the others were at the docks and the rest were of his own home. That’s how he was watching you.
“You-you’ve really been stalking me.” You whispered.
“It’s really not that hard. You make it too easy.” He mused with a low voice. “But I’m-I’m having a hard time understanding why you’re wearing something other than what I gave you.”
“Don’t change the subject, Rafe. This isn’t okay. You’re going to stop. I did everything you wanted. Now you leave John b and the rest alone.” Your voice wasn’t steady. From nervousness and the drinks.
And he knew that from the way a smirk formed on his pink lips. “But not you?” He clicked his tongue. “Naughty girl. You don’t want me to leave you alone. I didn’t forget our last…meeting.” His eyes lingered around your hips. “With a gun to your pussy.”
“No, no, stop. I don’t know-I don’t like you.”
Rafe only stepped closer, inching towards you. “Your body does.. Your pussy love our little games. You’ve had so many chances to run. Not that they would work-“ He chuckled darkly. “But you’re doing everything I want you too.”
His hand shot out and ripped the shirt in half. You shrieked, your legs almost buckling as your body was exposed. Rafes breathed in the scent of your perfume as he roamed with his fingers the lingerie, his palms falling to your tits, squeezing before he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your ass against his cock.
“Move like you bounced on my gun,” He ordered against your ear, his warm breath and you could feel his lips trace the side of your jaw.
All your thoughts disappeared as he guided you to grind against him, your pussy dampening the material as your eyes drifted shut. His own breathing quickened as your hand flew behind to palm him.
“Dirty slut, you’re so scared but I know you’re fucking dripping.” He was so tall that he could slip his hand easily between your legs and gather the slick leaking from your center. He then shoved it in your mouth, forcing you to suck.
“That’s all fucking mine, I don’t care if you hate me. I want you to fucking hate me. You like that I stalked you. Watch you, that I know everything.” He was growing more aggressive as he threw you face down on the bed, ripping off your shorts, he slapped your ass hard enough you jolted.
You heard his belt and pants drop as he manhandled you, wrapping your hair around his free hand as you felt his dick line up to your pussy. “Say you hate me,” He spat and slammed into you without warning.
You almost screamed from the stretch and fullness as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t even breathe from the hold he had on your hair, as you started rubbing your clit. “I-“ You tried, barely managing to squeak.
“Say it!” He yelled, slapping your ass again and you fell on your hands.
“I hate you!” You gasped for air and he pushed your head down. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”
Your core clenched around him as your stomach tightened, you were so close, so fucking close. Rafe moaned deeply, his movements slowing but still brutal.
He spilled into you and you came right after. Sweat dripped from your face as you jerked. Your mouth was still open, spit gathering and you wiped it off. Your breathing slowed as he pulled out, releasing you to flop on the mattress. Your makeup stains the white comforter.
Trying to calm down and assess the situation you got yourself into, you heard Rafe clear his throat in an expected manner.
You crawled around as he pulled up his pants. “I hope you liked that, because that’s the last time you get to cum tonight.”
“W-“
“You forgot to bring the handcuffs.” You almost fainted. Half from being cock drunk, still spilling from both fluids and half from horror.
Rafe only gave you a very threatening smile. “But don’t worry. No one is getting through that door. And besides, even if they tried, I can see every move they make.” He pointed to the monitors.
“I’m nowhere done with you yet.”
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Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @daivny @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @chrrymunson @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch
Please let me know if I forgot anyone! Comment if you wanna be tagged in future Rafe or all my fics!
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sassyjoy · 20 days
Text
unplanned sleepover
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genre: smut
word count: 1.4k
⋆。˚ ⋆ ☾
"You can sit on my bed," Sooyoung told you upon entering her dorm room. It was quite spacious, you thought. The two beds certainly caught your attention, their neatness contrasting against the cozy disarray of the rest of the room. Posters of romcom films adorned one wall, while a whiteboard covered in colorful sketches and project ideas took up another. On the study desk, a jumble of art supplies mingled with a laptop displaying a digital design in progress. The room felt like a creative hub where the worlds of multimedia arts collided in a harmonious chaos curated by two distinct personalities.
"Do you want anything? Coffee? Juice? Water?" Sooyoung asked as she placed back her roommate's gaming chair near where it belongs.
"No, I'm good,” you replied, casting your eyes around the room, taking in the unique blend of multimedia arts influences in the shared space. You noticed a film camera on the desk and asked Sooyoung if that was hers.
"It's Wonwoo's," Sooyoung responded with a smile, gesturing towards the camera with a hint of admiration.
"Wonwoo? Oh, the guy you've been crushing about?" 
Sooyoung snorted. "That's Jaehyun, dumbass. You never really listen to my stories, don't you?" You laughed when she threw a hoodie at you in which you caught. You knew it was Jaehyun, you were just messing with her.
"Wonwoo's my roommate."
"Oh, I didn't know men and women can share the same dorm room," you said in disbelief, as you knew it was not allowed in most dormitories.
Sooyoung shrugged, unfazed. "My landlord is cool with it and besides, I don't really mind sharing the same room with the opposite sex. As long as they're clean and mindful in their space, I won't have a problem with them. And Wonwoo's really nice. He's neat. We also share the same course so we really get along with each other!" As she spoke, Sooyoung picked her pajamas from her cabinet, preparing to change into sleepwear for the night.
"Why isn't he here though?" You asked as you lay on her bed, getting comfy. The bed felt nice and soft. You noticed some polaroid pictures of Sooyoung with friends near her bedside table. It was cute to see familiar faces from your shared circle of friends since high school.
"Org duties, I guess. He said he'll be home late," she shrugged.
"I'll go get changed," Sooyoung said before heading to the bathroom. You found yourself scrolling and watching tiktok videos on your phone on her bed. It was kind of funny that despite being friends for years, it was the first time being alone together. You usually never had this chance due to various reasons.
Your stay in her dorm wasn't planned. Your car broke down, and with heavy rain outside, the mechanic couldn't come fix it. Luckily, Sooyoung's dorm was nearby. It became your refuge from the storm. Without her help, you'd be out in the cold.
~
You were sleeping in one bed with Sooyoung. It wasn't supposed to be like that but you've had sleepovers with your circle of friends before. Sleeping in one bed shouldn't be a bad thing. 
What's bad is that you're lusting over her. It shouldn't be like this. You know that yourself. 
You wished you didn't enter the bathroom earlier. If you hadn't, you wouldn't see her dirty laundry. It wasn't your fault that you saw her undies lying there. It wasn't your fault that you had the urge to pick it up and smell it. But you did pick it up and smell it. The thought of Sooyoung wearing it just turned you even more and caused tenting on your sweatpants. 
Here you are, lying on your side with your back to her. You're trying your best to fall asleep, but it seems impossible. Sooyoung, on the other side of the bed, keeps shifting and turning, making it even harder for you to find rest. You just want to get off this feeling. 
'Should I just jerk off in the bathroom?' You've been asking yourself this question for the past 30 minutes now. But the bathroom's kinda far from the bed. 
The room was dark. The only sound you could hear was the rain outside. The gentle tap-tap-tap against the window filled the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere. You're finally getting off that idea in your mind until you heard small soft whimpers. 
You changed your position, now you're facing Sooyoung. You waited for that sound again, because you thought that your mind is just messing around. Was it Sooyoung? Or maybe that was Wonwoo? Her roommate, who's sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. Nah, it won't be him. It sounded like a girl's, you thought. 
You were about to sleep when you heard something again, and this time, you were sure that it was Sooyoung. 
The room was dimly lit, but when you adjusted to the darkness you saw Sooyoung rubbing herself. The hem of her dark blue night gown lifted up to her thigh. Your heart beat went crazy, not knowing what to do.
"Ohh," she moaned quietly. You can't stop watching pleasuring herself. It's a new sight for you. You've known her for years and you never knew she has this side of hers. You were always bickering with each other but you always thought that she was all this innocent. 
You felt hot, wishing Sooyoung won't notice. 
You slightly moved, turning yourself more towards her, to watch more clearly. Sooyoung stopped for a second, scanning your face before going back to rubbing again. 
You can't help it anymore, and moved again, this time your arm flinging over to her side making sure to lightly brush her thigh before resting your arm on her stomach.
"Shit," she whispered to herself, not being able to continue anymore. You felt her try to pull your arm away but you just changed your position, your leg now brushing up to her thigh. You can feel her body heat and heaving, getting turned on even more. 
You felt her stop for a few minutes. 
She then finally rested her hand on top of yours. 
You found it cute not until she lifted your hand and put it over her wet pussy. Your eyes instantly opened, obviously shocked at what she did. Damn, she's not wearing an underwear. 
"I knew it, you're awake." She whispered, you tried to pull your hand away but she gripped it tighter. 
"Can you help me with this one? Please?" She begged as she bit her lip as she guided your hand to her cunt. You gulped. With shaky hands, you found yourself messing with the hem of her sleepwear.
'Why are you nervous? She literally asked you for this.' You thought. Sooyoung squeezed her clothed breast as she waits for your next move. You were contemplating for a second before whispering "fuck it" under your breath and placed your hand over her shaved pussy. 
You traced her vagina with your middle finger. You pressed it between her folds, finding her clit with ease. 
"Oh- fuck... this is way better than using my own fingers- god!" You watched her covering her mouth with her own hands, feeling the sensation you've been giving her. For some reason, you liked how's this going. 
You circled her clit. You can feel how warm and wet she have had become. Sooyoung was trying so hard not to make a noise when you added another finger inside her. Her breathing became heavy and a little unsteady. You placed your other arm underneath her to pull her body closer to you. 
"Does it feel good, Sooyoung?" You whispered in her ear that earned you a grip on your forearm. 
"Feels so good," she croaked. The rain was too loud. Wonwoo won't probably hear what's happening between you two, right?
You placed soft kisses on the side of her neck as you increased the pace of your fingers. You can feel her body wriggle from the pleasure. You loved how every time you went deeper, her grip on you got tighter. 
"Just like that," she whispered. You kept hitting the spot she could barely reach with her own fingers. Sooyoung arched her back, palming her tits as she grinds against your fingers, trying to reach that delicious high she's been aching to have. Her breath quickens as you hit the spot inside her, your fingers scissoring her tight hole. 
"Ohhh," then she exploded. Sooyoung's cum wets your fingers. It took her a minute to calm down. You caressed her thighs as you wait for her to calm down from how she fell apart from the build-up you managed to give her.
"You owe me one," you told her, whispering in her ear while still stroking her soft skin. 
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noisynaia · 6 months
Text
𝑀𝑈𝐹𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝐴𝑀
Written for the lovely @pedrostories Secret Santa event 2023
My dear giftee is @katiexpunk, hope you like it! 💕
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader 
word count: 3.2k 
summury: You moved into your new house six months ago, and you love your new home. It is spacious and has a lovely little garden, and it also just so happens to include the hottest single dad with the sweetest little girl you’ve ever met as your new neighbors. Over the months you have gotten to know them more and more. Little Sarah has fallen head over heels for your labradoodle Sofie and often comes over to play with her in your garden, and as you have gotten to know him more and more, you have fallen head over heels for her father, Joel.
note: Pre/no outbreak. Next door neighbors. Fluff. Baking. This is the first fic i've written in seven months, so sorry for being super duper rusty. English isn't my native language. This was supposed to be something completely different, but my laptop broke, (the 'screen part' literally just fell off?!) so I didn't have near as much time for this as I would have preferred, so sorry if this seemed rushed (it sadly was). But nonetheless, happy holidays ya'll! I'm so happy to be back, and aiming to write much more again in the new year ♥︎
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Joel stands in the kitchen, staring hopelessly at the empty sugar canister while cursing under his breath, feeling the dull pressure behind his eyes and nasal cavity which usually indicates an incoming tension headache. He had been sure that it was full, but no, it’s as empty as his hope for successfully making these damn muffins. The curse words escape his lips like a symphony of frustration, echoing off the empty walls of the kitchen. Joel can feel the frustration sinking into his bones. 
He had promised Sarah that he would bake muffins for her school function, despite not being a very good nor patient baker. But he would do anything to make his little girl happy. He had thought that they could bake them together, that it would be a fun father-daughter activity, but work and chores and Sarah’s soccer practice and honestly just life in general had gotten in the way of those plans. 
So now he stands here, the night before Sarah needs the muffins, without one of the most essential ingredients. It’s late, way past Sarah’s bedtime, who is sleeping soundly in her room.  Joel would  have to wake her up and take her with him if he’s going out to buy more sugar. But he really doesn’t want to wake her, she needs her sleep, but there is also no way in hell he’s leaving her alone while he runs to the store even if she’s just sleeping. 
As he stands here contemplating his options, you appear in his mind. You do that frighteningly often these days, and deep down he knows exactly why, but he has to suppress it. He is too busy, and too grown, to go around getting crushes on pretty women with cute dogs who move into houses next door to him, and who is always so sweet and funny, and who is so sweet and nice to his daughter, and…. No. He has to stop this. He shouldn’t think about you like this. 
He is mature enough to admit to himself that he is attracted to you, very attracted to you, but admitting to the feelings he has caught is a whole other can of worms, which he is not going to even attempt to look into. He is a single dad to a six year old, focused on taking care of his daughter and providing for her needs.
But in this moment, as he stands in the kitchen with an empty sugar canister mocking him, he feels a tug in his heart, a desperate need for help. He reluctantly gives in to the idea that perhaps you might have some sugar to spare… 
It would be nice to see you, but he also really doesn’t want to disturb you, and something about knocking at your door this late at night gives him a funny feeling in his stomach. 
Joel shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he focuses on the task at hand. He glances at the clock on the wall, realizing that time is slipping away. With a sigh, he reluctantly decides that he has no choice but to go next door and ask you for some sugar.
As he walks across the lawn and up to your front door, Joel can feel his heart racing. Why does he feel so nervous about such a simple request? He hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether he should knock or just turn around and forget about the whole thing. But the thought of disappointing Sarah and ruining her school event pushes him forward.  He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, attempting to calm his racing thoughts.
Shortly after, the door swings open, and there you are, standing with a warm smile on your face. Your eyes light up as you see Joel, and Sofie, your adorable dog happily greets him as well. Joel can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken even more at the sight of you.
“Hi,“ you smile at him. “What brings you here at this hour?” you ask curiously.
Joel awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his nerves getting the best of him. “I hate to bother you, but I’m in a bit of a jam. I promised Sarah I would bake muffins for a thing at her school tomorrow, but I ran out of sugar. Do you, by any chance, have some to spare?" 
Your smile widens, and you tilt your head slightly. “Of course, I’d be happy to help you out. Come on in, I’ll grab it for you.”
Joel breathes a sigh of relief as you invite him inside. He steps into your warm and inviting home, noticing the pleasant aroma from what he guess must be a scented candle or something of the sort. It feels comforting and familiar, contrasting with the chaos and frustration that he left behind in his own kitchen.
He follows you into your kitchen, taking in the sight of the cozy space. The countertops are clutter-free, and a few potted herbs sit on the windowsill, basking in the moonlight. It’s a stark contrast to his own kitchen, which is always a whirlwind of activity and unfinished tasks.
As you retrieve the sugar from your well-stocked pantry, Joel can’t help but admire the ease with which you move around the kitchen. Your familiarity with the tools and ingredients is evident, invoking a sense of calm in him. He wonders how you manage to maintain such a serene environment amidst the chaos of daily life.
Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Joel finally musters the courage to ask, “How do you do it? How do you manage to keep everything so neat?”
You pause for a moment, a kind smile on your face as you hand Joel the sugar. “Well, for starters, I don’t have a kid," you chuckle, “and I guess it’s just about priorities, and since I work from home, I find that having a clean and organized space helps me stay focused and reduces unnecessary stress.”
Joel nods at your answer. He can’t help but admire how put-together you seem, both in your home and in your life. It’s something he strives for but often falls short of, with the chaos that comes with being a single parent. 
“You’re doing really well by the way,” you smile at him, interrupting his thoughts, as if you can sense his doubts. “Sarah is really lucky to have you.” Joel’s cheeks flush at your compliment, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. He never believed he was doing enough for Sarah, constantly doubting himself as a parent. But your words validate his efforts and provide a much-needed boost of confidence. “Thank you,” he says softly, a mixture of appreciation and relief lacing his voice. “I always worry that I’m not doing enough, that…” he pauses. 
Your expression is filled with understanding. “I can’t talk from experience, but I know that parenting is never easy. But trust me, Joel, Sarah knows how much you love her and how much you’re doing for her. And I think you are doing a wonderful job,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, and he sees genuine sincerity reflected in them. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, the burden of his self-imposed expectations slowly dissipating. You speak with such warmth and wisdom, Joel’s heart swells with gratitude for your presence in his life. He never imagined that a simple request for sugar would lead to such a meaningful conversation. 
“Thank you,” Joel says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
 You smile warmly at him, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “Joel, you’re a great dad. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” As Joel thanks you once again, he can’t help but feel a warmth spreading throughout his heart. It’s a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and it fills him with a sense of hope and possibility. Before he leaves, Joel can’t help but ask, “Would you wanna come over for dinner sometime? I am a much better cook than baker and Sarah has begged me to have you and Sofie over and visit.” 
You smile and nod, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “I would love that, Joel.” 
Joel feels a surge of warmth, at your smile. Thanking you again he turns to leave, sugar in hand, he musters up the courage to say one last thing. “I’m happy that it was you who moved in next to us.  It’s been nice getting to know you and having you around.”
You smile warmly, your eyes twinkling, and an almost bashful expression on your face which catches Joel a little off guard. “Likewise, Joel. I’m always here if you need anything, whether it’s sugar or just someone to talk to.” you add the last part with a teasing smile, but the sincerity in your words are clear. 
“I really appreciate that,” Joel says, his voice filled with sincerity. 
“And just so you know…” you give him a bashful smile.“That includes help with baking muffins.”  
Joel feels how his stomach does a flip as he understands what you’re saying. “Would you like to help me bake some muffins?”  
“I’d love to,” you say happily, your smile growing and Joel can’t help but feel a sense of excitement through his body. “I’ll be over at yours in ten, how’d that sound?” you ask. 
Joel’s heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with you. “Sounds good to me.” 
“Cool, see you in ten then.” You grin at him. Joel smiles back at you, feeling a sense of anticipation building within him. 
As Joel heads back to his house, sugar in hand  he can’t help but smile, he had been so tired and frustrated only a little while ago, but now he suddenly feels fully recharged. 
____
Ten minutes… You have ten minutes to make yourself look somewhat decent, in a casual, ‘I’m just going over to my extremely attractive dilf neighbor whom I have a big fat stupid crush on’ way. No pressure at all. 
As you race to your bathroom to check yourself over in the mirror, you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. You touch up your makeup, adding a touch of lip gloss and swipe on a new coat of mascara, you brush your teeth, and spritz on a little perfume. After making sure you look presentable, you opt for a comfortable yet cute outfit, realizing that you don’t want to come off as too overdone. 
Satisfied with your appearance, you grab a small container of homemade blueberry jam from your fridge. It may not be muffins, but it’s a sweet treat that you can bring to share. With jam in hand, you head out the door, your heart fluttering with anticipation.
As you approach Joel’s house, you can’t help but appreciate the calmness of the night. The moon shines brightly above, casting a soft glow on the neighborhood. You hear the faint sound of crickets chirping, and the warm breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers. Everything feels serene and magical, heightening your excitement.
You reach Joel’s doorstep and take a moment to collect yourself. You remind yourself to be casual and relaxed, even though your heart is pounding in your chest. With a steadying breath, you knock on the door.
Joel opens it with a warm smile, and you instantly feel at ease. His eyes light up as they land on you, and you can't help but blush under his gaze. “Hi,” he greets you softly. “I'm so glad you could make it.”
You return his smile, extending the container of blueberry jam towards him. “I brought some homemade jam. I thought it would be nice with the muffins and I remember Sarah telling me she loves blueberries.”
Joel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise, and his smile widens. “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you, darlin’.”
‘Darlin’...’ Your heart flutters at the endearment as you step inside his house, the word falling so naturally from his lips. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scent of warmth and comfort. It’s a homey and cozy feeling that instantly puts you at ease.
As you enter the kitchen, you notice the ingredients for the muffins laid out, ready to be used. There’s a twinkle of anticipation in Joel’s eyes as he gestures towards them. “Do you want to get started?”
You nod eagerly, not wanting to waste any more time. “Definitely. Let’s make these muffins amazing.”
For the next few hours, you and Joel work side by side, measuring ingredients, mixing, and chatting as you go. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, ranging from lighthearted jokes to more personal stories, and the atmosphere somehow turns more and more flirty, making excited butterflies flutter in your stomach. With each moment, you can feel the connection between you deepening, like ingredients coming together to create a perfect blend.
As the muffins bake in the oven, filling the kitchen with their delicious scent, the two of you take a well-deserved break. Joel pours two cups of coffee, and you find yourselves sitting at his kitchen table, sipping the warm brew in comfortable silence.
The soft glow of the overhead light casts a warm and cozy ambiance over the room. Despite the tiredness in his eyes from a long day, a smile tugs at the corners of Joel’s lips as he watches you take a sip of your coffee. There’s a comfortable silence that envelops the two of you, a sense of ease and contentment that comes from being in each other’s company.
As you set your cup down, you turn to Joel, your eyes filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You know, Joel, I have to say. These muffins wouldn’t have turned out as amazing as they did without your expert baking skills.” A teasing smirk dances on your lips.
Joel chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I may have had a little help from a certain someone,” he says, a hint of affection lacing his voice.
You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, so now I’m just your personal baking assistant, am I?” you retort, pretending to be slightly offended.
Joel’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with humor. “No, no, not at all. You’re so much more than that,” he reassures you, his voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve brought light into my life, darlin’. Ever since you moved in next door, things just feel...better.”
The warmth in Joel’s words seeps into your heart, igniting a deep stirring within you. A connection that goes beyond the simple act of baking muffins is forming between the two of you, growing stronger with each passing moment.
Before you know it, the timer for the muffins goes off, snapping both of you out of the gentle bubble you’ve created. You share a laugh, realizing that you may have gotten carried away in the moment.
Joel stands up and walks over to the oven, his movements fluid and confident. He takes a deep breath, a look of anticipation on his face. “Well, here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he opens the oven door and retrieves the tray of freshly baked muffins.
The delightful aroma wafts through the kitchen, filling the air with its tantalizing scent. Joel carefully sets the tray down on the counter, the muffins still warm to the touch. He reaches for a plate and begins arranging the muffins, creating a beautiful display.
You watch him with admiration, seeing the dedication and love he pours into everything he does. In that moment, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of affection towards him.
As you join him by the counter, your hands instinctively reach out to brush against each other, sending a spark of electricity up your arms. Your eyes meet, and in that instant, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, connected in a way that feels destined. 
Joel's gaze is warm as he gazes at you, and his voice is filled with sincerity as he speaks. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for your help, for everything. You've brought so much happiness into our lives."
You smile softly at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. “The feeling is mutual, Joel.”
Joel takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering and filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. You can’t help but notice how his gaze keeps darting from your eyes to your lips, and you feel your own heartbeat quickens in response, but a sudden surge of bravery fills you as well. You can’t just be imagining this. “You can if you want, you know.” you whisper.
You can almost see how Joel’s breath catches in his throat by your words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He searches your face, trying to comprehend your words. “If I want...what?” he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and hope.
A soft smile graces your lips as you reach out to gently take his hand in yours. “You can kiss me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “If you want.”
“I want to, more than anything.” He brings his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with tender affection.
With bated breath, the world seems to stand still as your faces draw closer together. The anticipation hangs in the air like an electric current, and as your lips finally meet, it feels like a rush of warmth cascading throughout your bodies.
The kiss is soft, tender, and filled with an underlying passion that has been building between you. It's a culmination of longing, uncertainty, and hope, all coming together in that single moment of connection.
As your lips move against each other, the outside world fades away, and all that matters is the tenderness you share. Time seems to stretch, allowing you to savor each second of this newfound intimacy.
When you finally break apart, breathing slightly heavier, Joel's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and confirmation. "Was that okay?" he asks, his voice laced with vulnerability.
You smile warmly at him, a sparkle in your eyes. “More than okay,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”
A wave of relief washes over Joel as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms enveloping you in a sense of security. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he whispers, “I'm glad, because I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”
And in that moment, as you stand in Joel's warm embrace, you realize that sometimes the sweetest moments in life come unexpectedly. As you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, you can't help but be grateful for the empty sugar canister and the twist of fate that brought you together. Love has a funny way of sneaking up on people, and you can’t wait to see where this new chapter with Joel and Sarah takes you. With muffins in the oven and love blossoming in your hearts, this late-night adventure is just the beginning of a sweet, heartfelt journey together.
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oosleepyfaeoo · 3 months
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A Kiss Is All I Need
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Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Chapter Two
Summary: 2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. 2 months crying and feeling like shit but that all stopped when he meet you on that dreadful clothing store.
Warnings: Nothing much yet, just little fluff.
Words: 1,167
Masterlist / Series Masterlist
Taglist: @zenka69 @cryptid-l0ver @saelwen-shy-elf @aemondsdelight @shari-berri @kckt88 @watercolorskyy @dae7tina @saturnssrings @dixie-elocin @arabis-world @tulips2715 @reedmurdock @ladythornofrivia @tssf-imagines @eeeeeevesstuff @venmondiese @bellaisasleep @darylandbethfanforever9 @snh96 @liv-cole
Aemond took a deep breath as he stood in front of your bakery. ‘The Faun Cottage’ was the name of your store. The display window was decorated with beautiful green leaves and antique books which served to hold cakes and baskets of bread.
He was dressed in a light white shirt with a leather jacket, black jeans, and super comfortable Doctor Martens, which he wears almost every day. His long hair was tied in a low ponytail.
Looking down at the watch on his wrists, he saw it was 2 pm already. “Here goes nothing,” he murmurs as he walks into the bakery. “You better be right, Aegon.”
The scent of fresh bread and coffee along with a sweet herbal smell hit his nose like a train. Inside the shop, it was warm and cozy. Green vines are climbing the walls into the ceiling and some ancient runes are painted on the stone walls which looks like a mix of cottage core with Celtic/Viking vibe. A faint medieval music played in the background. It looks like something from an ancient era.
There are some people seated eating their food, others reading or working while drinking their tea or coffee.
“Mommy! Mommy! My Prince is here!” Emily’s voice echoed through the shop, grabbing his attention. This time she was dressed in a simple brown dress with some hand-painted runes on it. Her black hair was braided, and two small antlers rested on her head.
Aemond smiles down at her and kneels to shake her tiny hand. “Hello, Emily.” He greets her gently. “And what do you suppose to be today?”
She gives him a little twirl and grins. “I’m a druid! I talk to animals and cure people's booboos with my magic!” The girl grabs his hand and pulls him towards the door behind the counter, saying a quick hello to the guy who was attending to a client.
Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him. “Hmm, I see.”
Emily opens the door and leads him inside. It was an office by the looks and by the desk full of papers and a laptop, stood a very stressed woman.
“Mommy! Look who’s here!” Emily chirps happily.
You looked up from your papers and gave him a tired smile. “Aemond... I’m happy to see you. Please take a seat.” You try to make your office table more presentable, putting all the paperwork in cases. “Sorry for the mess. It’s been a busy day. Maria needed the day off so I took over her work and... it didn’t go well.”
Aemond sat on the wooden chair in front of you while Emily went to the corner to play with her plush animals. “It’s no problem... Here’s my papers, all the training I did.” He gives you the case. “By the way, you have a lovely bakery. Very creative.”
The grin you gave him made Aemond’s heart almost burst out of his chest. Your eyes brightened at his compliment and how the dimples on your cheeks made you look so cute and innocent.
“Thank you! It was a lot of work to make it the way I imagined but it was worth it.” You say taking a seat on your chair. “So, shall we start with the interview?”
Aemond nods.
“Okay! So, your brother said you had experience with children. Your nephews, right?” Aemond nods again.
“Yes, my sister's children. Twins, a girl, Jaehaera, and a boy, Jaehaerys, of 8 years old, and toddler of 2 years old, Maelor.” Aemond smiled gently at the thought of his nephews.
You took notice of his gentleness as he talked about his nephews, which made you feel more relaxed with the idea of him taking care of Emily.
“They all have beautiful names.” You speak. “I’m not going to lie but it seems you are perfect for Emily. You have basic first aid training and CPR certifications.” You look down and read his papers. “Also, it seems Emily is already attached to you.”
You nod towards your daughter, who has her gaze fixed on Aemond while she plays. Aemond grinned at her which made the girl giggle and run towards him, showing him her favorite plush animal.
You pull up the documents for him to sign and put them in front of him. “It seems you got the job! You can read the agreement and then sign down here.” You smile. “I drive her to her school every morning. So, 3 pm you can go pick her up and she is all yours until 7 pm when I get home.”
Aemond nods and signs the paper. Opening the drawer beside you, you take a small notebook along with a key.
“Here.” You give him the book and key. “In here you will find all her allergies, her school, and our apartment address. That’s the key to our home.”
Aemond takes the book and the key from you, his pale fingers brushing gently against yours. “Thank you, Y/n.”
The way your name rolled through his tongue made your loins curl in a familiar feeling. You cough and look down to your laptop, a faint blush adorns your cheeks. Get a grip, Y/n!
There’s a small pregnant silence between you too. Aemond admires the way your face flushes so easily. Even tired, you look beautiful.
“Huh... Well! Ready for your first day?” You stand up and smile, trying to end the awkward silence.
Aemond also stood up, looking down at a very excited Emily. “Ready as I can be.” He gently grabs the girl's hand while putting her backpack on his shoulder and walks out of the office with you following close behind.
You kneel and give a big kiss on your daughter's cheek, making her giggle excitedly. “Have fun and behave.”
“Yes, mommy.” She grins and kisses your nose.
As you stand up, Aemond quickly pulls his wallet out and takes his business card. “I completely forgot to you give my card.” He says with an apologetic gaze. “My phone number is there in case you need something.”
You nod and take his business card. Emily pulls Aemond’s hand and jumps up and down. “Can I have an ice cream on our way home? Pretty please?”
Aemond looks in panic at you to which you laugh. “Yes, but only this time. Alright?”
“Yippe!” Your daughter squeals happily and pulls Aemond’s hand again. “C’mon! C’mon! Let’s go!” Aemond chuckles and lets the girl guide him while waving a small goodbye at you.
You waved back and watched them turn around the block, disappearing out of sight. You feel tears stinging in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of your daughter's absence drives you to panic.
“Deep breath, Y/n.” You whisper to yourself. “She’s going to be okay.”
Taking a deep breath, you look down at the business card in your hand. Your eyes widen as you see a familiar red logo. A three-headed dragon.
“Wait! He’s THE Aemond Targaryen??!!”  
I hope you guys like this chapter!! Feel free to like, comment or reblog!
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midastouch013 · 1 month
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"God Must Hate Me"
Based on this request
Summary: When your girlfriend tells you what's making her withdraw from everyone, what do you do?
Warnings: Nat lowkey hating herself. Mentions of God. Self-hatred. Mentions of numbness. Mentions of Red Room. Mention of scars.
----
It had been almost a year since you started dating Natasha Romanoff, and everything had been going perfectly. But lately, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Natasha seemed to be withdrawing from you, from her friends, and from her sister too.
You noticed it first when Natasha stopped joining you for movie nights. She used to love cuddling up with you on the couch, sharing popcorn and watching your favorite films. But now, she always had some excuse to avoid it.
"Nat, I rented that movie you wanted to watch," you'd say hopefully, holding up the DVD as she passed by.
"Sorry, babe, I'm really tired tonight. Maybe another time," she'd reply with a forced smile, already halfway out the door.
You shrugged it off at first, thinking she was just going through a busy time at work. But then you noticed she was avoiding her friends too.
"Hey, Nat, Pepper's invited us over for dinner tonight. She's making your favorite lasagna," you'd say, trying to tempt her.
"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on," she'd reply, barely looking up from her laptop.
Even Yelena couldn't seem to get through to her.
"Natasha, we never see each other anymore. Can we please have lunch together today?" Yelena would ask, looking hurt.
"I'm sorry, Lena, I just have a lot on my mind right now. Rain check?" Natasha would reply, not meeting her sister's eyes.
But it wasn't just her friends and family she was avoiding. Natasha seemed to be retreating into herself more and more each day. You'd find her in the gym for hours on end, pushing herself to the limit with no explanation.
"Nat, you've been in here for three hours. Don't you think you should take a break?" you'd ask, concerned.
"I'm fine, Y/n. I just need to work off some steam," she'd reply, not even breaking a sweat.
Or you'd find her in the garden, sitting alone and gazing off into the distance.
"Natasha, is everything okay?" you'd ask softly, sitting down beside her.
She'd startle slightly, as if she hadn't even realized you were there.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just… thinking," she'd reply vaguely, not meeting your eyes.
And then there were the times when she would accidentally ignore you, lost in her own thoughts.
"Nat, I was talking to you," you'd say, trying to get her attention.
"Huh? Sorry, what did you say?" she'd reply, looking confused.
You watched all of this unfold, feeling more and more confused and sad with each passing day. You didn't understand why Natasha was pulling away from everyone, including you. You tried to give her space, hoping she would open up to you eventually. But as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.
---
As you finished your day's work at the hospital, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Natasha. Clint's call had left you deeply concerned. You knew something was wrong, and you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as you drove home.
Pulling into the driveway, you noticed Natasha sitting on the porch, her gaze fixed on the neighbor's child playing with her dog and toys. There was a sadness in her eyes that made your heart ache.
As you sat silently beside her, Natasha broke the silence with a heavy sigh.
"Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
You didn't respond verbally; instead, you simply placed your hand on hers, offering silent support, waiting for her to continue.
"'Cause He spent so much time on them, " she gestured towards the family in the backyard. The father and mother had joined the child, and they looked so happy together. "And for me, He got lazy. Got ample mental illness, personality flaws…" Her fingers subconsciously clenched. "Like, have you seen me? Yelena? Melina and Alexei? How messed up we are."
"While their only flaw seems to be that they have none at all," she continued, gesturing again towards the family. The child sat on the father's shoulders while their mother took a picture of them.
And then Natasha repeated, her voice heavy with emotion, "Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'? Because I do."
As Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, you felt your heart breaking for her. Gently, you spoke up, your voice soft but firm.
"Nat, it's not your fault. None of it is. It's the Red Room's fault, Dreykov's fault, for putting you through all of that," you said, trying to reassure her. "And maybe even God's fault, if one chose to believe in the almighty."
She let out a bitter laugh, her sarcasm cutting through the air like a knife.
"For everything that's wrong with me, I can't hold myself responsible. So I blame the metaphysical, because obviously, they're the ones who killed those people, not me, because I wasn't the one holding the gun," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Natasha continued to speak, her words weighing heavily on your heart.
"You know, a nun came up to me today. She told me that Jesus died for all our sins. If Jesus died for all our sins… He left one behind, the body I'm in," she said, her voice filled with sorrow.
Then, in her usual defensive humor, she added, "That means that the same hands that made the moon and the stars obviously got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts."
You didn't chuckle at her attempt at humor. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with hers, a silent gesture of comfort, and told her not to speak like that.
"I thought you didn't even believe in God," you said softly.
But Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know what I believe. But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me."
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.
As the neighbor's child laughed loudly, climbing up the tree in their backyard, her mother fretting while her father cheered her on, Natasha smiled wistfully at them.
" Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, they got lucky'? The craftsmanship of their bones, their brain, and their body," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the family.
She seemed to drift into a reverie before continuing, "All I got at her age…" She pointed to the girl. "Was a fake family, scars, and pain."
"Babe," you started, unsure of what to say.
But Natasha continued, her voice distant, "When I look into the mirror for too long, it hurts. And don't get me started on how I eat. I can eat the least amount of food ever and want to enjoy myself with one dessert, and see another person do the same, except they don't track how many steps it takes to burn off dessert."
Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"
I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I'll blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts
I don't know what I believe But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me
Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" 'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy
You listened quietly, feeling her pain as if it were your own. You wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, that she was perfect just the way she was. But you knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to heal her wounds. Natasha's words overwhelmed you, the lump in your throat growing bigger. You wanted to cry too, but you held it in, knowing that Natasha needed you to be strong for her.
"I'll be right back, Nat," you said softly, gently pulling away from her and making your way into the house.
Once inside, you took a deep breath, trying to gain some emotional control. And so you busied yourself making a cup of tea for Natasha, knowing that if you went out right no, you'd be of no help and she'd just shut you out.
As you looked out the window, you noticed that it had started raining. You felt a pang of worry when you saw Natasha still sitting on the porch, getting soaked by the rain.
Without a second thought, you rushed back outside, ignoring the rain as you pulled Natasha in from the porch. She didn't respond, but you wrapped her in the warmest hug you could manage, holding her close despite the rain soaking through your clothes.
"Do you want to change?"
Natasha remained numb not replying , so you too matters into your own hands. You gently scooped her into your arms, carrying her upstairs to the bathroom. She didn't resist, didn't protest, just allowed you to take care of her.
You stripped her out of her wet clothes, bathing her gently, all the while she remained unresponsive. You helped her into your favorite pajamas of hers, knowing how much she loved wearing them, and then tucked her into bed, attending to her needs with care and tenderness.
Despite holding back your own tears, you offered her words of comfort, reassuring her that you were there for her, that you would always be there for her.
Finally, as you tucked her in properly, Natasha showed the first sign of emotion. She grabbed onto your now wet t-shirt, pleading with you not to go, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra.
You gently brushed the hair away from her face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I'm not going anywhere, Nat," you whispered, your voice filled with reassurance. "I'm just going to change my clothes, and then I'll be right back. I promise."
With one last comforting squeeze, you reluctantly pulled away, leaving Natasha alone in the bed as you made your way to the bathroom to change.
After you changed into dry clothes, you climbed back into bed with Natasha, gently dragging her into your arms so that your back was resting against the headboard, and she was nestled between your legs with her back to your front. You wrapped your arms securely around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder, holding her close as she remained numb and silent.
"Nat," you began softly, your voice steady but full of emotion, "I know you feel like everything you've been through defines you, but I want you to see the other side of it too."
She stayed quiet, but you continued, knowing she was listening.
"You talked about your childhood and how it felt like a fake family. But that 'fake' family is the one who threatened to end me when you told them we were dating," you said, a small smile playing on your lips at the memory. "They cared for you so much that when we had that huge argument, Alexei broke down my door and shattered my vase, just to make sure you were okay."
Natasha's fingers twitched slightly, a sign she was absorbing your words.
"That 'fake' family knew you so well that Melina sent me your favorite foods when you were feeling down. And Yelena, she almost killed Clint and me because of Vormir. She loves you so much, Nat. They all do."
You could feel her body gradually relaxing ever so slightly in your embrace.
"And let's not forget the Avengers. Clint has scolded me more times than I can count when we fought. Tony gave us a whole ass house to live in. Steve and Sam drop by weekly just to check in. Wanda and Peter are practically our kids. Kate and Yelena—they're like sisters to us, though I'm sure they're dating at this point. Maria and Fury even gave me death threats when they thought I hurt you, and they are scary, almost enough to rival you and Lena."
You paused, feeling a lump form in your throat as you continued, "Whether or not you realize it, you're so lucky to have people who love you like that. The Red Room did awful things to you, but it didn't destroy you. It made you who you are today. A survivor. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A best friend. A girlfriend."
Tears filled your eyes, but you held them back, focusing on Natasha.
"I'm not saying the Red Room made you stronger, because that would dismiss the pain you've been through. But it shaped you into the incredible person you are. And you are loved, so deeply and fiercely."
You held Natasha tightly, feeling her slowly beginning to trust your words as her body leaned into yours for comfort. The rain continued to fall outside, creating a soothing background noise as you continued to speak, wanting to reassure her as much as you could.
"And that thing you said about not being able to look at yourself in the mirror? That's total bull crap," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Because you look so freaking hot and sexy to me, Nat. Every time I see you, I can't believe how lucky I am."
You felt her body relax a little more in your arms, and you took a deep breath, continuing.
"I love you, regardless of anything. The Red Room, Dreykov, all the horrible things that happened—they don't define you. What defines you is your heart, your strength, your kindness. And if God really does exist, yeah, he put you through some serious shit, and I hate him for that. But he sure made up for it with the family you've gotten, and he sure as hell blessed me by giving you to me."
Natasha's grip on your arm tightened even more, and she turned slightly to look at you, tears in her eyes.
"Don't go," she whispered again, her voice breaking.
"I'm not going anywhere," you assured her, your own voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm staying right here with you."
You held her tightly, feeling her slowly begin to trust your words, her body leaning into yours for comfort. As the rain continued to fall outside, you both sat there in silence, wrapped in each other's embrace, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.
"I love you, Nat," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "And I'm here for you, always."
She nodded slightly, her head resting against your chest. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with emotion.
As Natasha finally fell asleep, cuddled up against you, you carefully reached for your phone, not wanting to disturb her. You opened the "Widow Family" group chat, which consisted of Yelena, Alexei, Melina, Natasha, and you. You quickly typed out a message:
WIDOW FAMILY 🕷️🕸️
You: Hey Nat rlly needs u all right now. Can u come by in about an hour?
Within moments, replies started to come in:
White Widow: I'll be there.
Red Guardian: Of course! I’ll bring borscht!
Mother Widow: On my way.
Feeling reassured, you then switched to the "Earth's Best Squabblers" group chat, which included all the Avengers. You typed out another message:
EARTH'S BEST SQUABBLERS 🤡🤡
You: Hey guys Nat rlly needs u rn Can u come by ASAP?
The responses were almost immediate:
Tin Can: On my way. Pepper & Morgan too
Capsicle: Be there soon.
Birdy 1: Already heading over. Laura and the kids are tagging
Green Bean: I'll be there.
Metal Arm: Be there in 20
Birdy 1's 2.0: Lena and I are on our way.
Point Break: I shall arrive promptly!
Witchy: I'm coming.
Birdy 2: Be there in a few.
Spidey Boy: Swinging over now!
You put your phone down, feeling a surge of gratitude for the people in your life. Carefully, you adjusted yourself, making sure Natasha was as comfortable as possible without waking her. You held her close, watching her sleep, knowing that soon, the people who loved her most would be there to support her.
--
When Natasha began to stir and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you said softly. "Someone's here to see you."
She looked at you curiously, and you took her hand, leading her downstairs. As you approached the living room, the sounds of laughter and chatter grew louder. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone gathered.
The room was filled with laughter and chatter. Yelena, Kate, Wanda, Peter, Lily and Cooper were huddled in one corner, engaged in animated conversation. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and laughing loudly. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away in another corner, their voices blending into a soothing hum. Nathaniel and Morgan were playing on the floor, while Lila and Cooper were with Peter and Kate, joining in the fun.
Yelena, Kate, Wanda, and Peter were huddled in one corner, talking animatedly. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and exchanging stories. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away, their faces lit up with smiles.
As you led Natasha into the room, everyone turned to greet her, their faces lighting up with warmth and affection. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and guided her further into the room.
Natasha looked around, her eyes softening as she took in the sight of her family and friends, all here for her. You could see the gratitude and love in her eyes.
"Hey, everyone," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Yelena rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug. "About time you woke up, sestra."
"Hey, Nat," Steve called out, raising his beer in a toast. "Good to see you."
One by one, everyone came over to greet her, sharing their love and support. The room was filled with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the somber mood from earlier.
As the evening went on, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Natasha perched on your lap, your arms wrapped around her protectively. She was joking around with everyone, her smile genuine and her laughter heartfelt.
At one point, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Thank you."
You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love. "I love you, Nat," you whispered back. "And so do they."
She looked around the room, taking in the faces of her family and friends, and nodded. "I know," she said softly. "I really do."
You held her close, feeling a sense of peace settle over both of you. In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved her most, you knew that Natasha was starting to heal. And you would be there, every step of the way.
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TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “A lover? Maybe. Something tender, anyway. But tender like a bruise.” — ‘The Winner’s Kiss’, Marie Rutkoski
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pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader
warnings. swearing, mention of blood + death, mildly suggestive
summary. its late at night when you get a knock at your window. first, its a familiar mask, then a really, really familiar face. (1) (2) (3) (4)
a/n.  i honestly just wanted an excuse to write about patching up this lovable dork. this is also the weirdest crossover ive ever made but hey! if the shoe fits, the shoe fits (ethan landry is 110% spiderman nerd coded). an early warning: this is sooo all over the place. i fr do not know where this is going or if i should make a part 2
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i.
You’re staring at your monitor, half-asleep and half-wishing your econ class got a bomb threat so you didn’t have to get assigned homework, when you hear a knock at your window. 
It was four-am on a Thursday in the middle of March, so you were expecting a knock. It was probably Quinn, or maybe even Tara, knocking on your window to get into the flat because they lost their keys somewhere at the frat party and didn’t want to alarm Sam. 
Having the room with the fire-escape window was a blessing and a curse. For one, the view was beautiful, and you could sneak out without any of your roommates knowing. On the other hand, however, any stranded friends of yours snuck back in through your window. 
Well, whatever. You slammed your laptop shut on your desk, and walked to your window. In the journey, however, you paused. 
The crime rate in New York had gone up terribly recently, and you had remembered that case just a few weeks ago about a man who broke in through a fire escape window… 
You weighed your options: open the window, oh it’s just Annika, shoo her out of your room, continue Econ homework. Open the window, oh it’s a murderer! Die, don’t finish Econ homework. 
You opened the window. 
Then: “Spiderman?!” You all but screamed, taking a hesitant step back. 
It was Spiderman, the guy in the spiderman suit, New York’s “friendly neighborhood Spiderman”, the hero who fought crime in Brooklynn and swung around Times Square, that Spiderman. 
And he was here. On your fire escape, awkwardly shuffling (which reminded you of a certain dork who was at that Halloween frat party right about now), hands behind his back. 
“Spiderman? What the— fuck, are you—?” You repeated, and you could practically hear his stumbling thoughts as he gestured incoherently to himself, arms flailing about. 
“Hi?” He settled on, then groaned, lifting himself into your bedroom. You took another step back, tentatively eyeing the little league baseball bat you had in the corner of your bedroom, a keepsake from home. 
Once more, the thoughts of those recent window-entry break-ins flashed in your head, and even though it was Spiderman, what if it wasn’t? What if it was just some weirdo freak in the costume, about to use your trust of the hero to their advantage?
Spiderman, solemnly, seemed to notice this hesitation in you. “I’m not— I’m not going to hurt you, I just…” Spiderman sighed, and then all at once and far too fast, he pulled his mask clean off. 
Suddenly, a familiar head of curls were splayed out on an equally as familiar brown-eyed face. 
“Landry?” You said in the same tone as before, except this time it was Ethan Landry, Quinn’s awkward, younger-by-3-minutes brother, who ended up rooming with Chad, your own friend from highschool, after Quinn moved in with you.
Your only conversation had been nods in Econ, handing him a drink at a party, asking if he’d seen Quinn, him asking if you’d seen Chad, and now… whatever this was. 
“This” was Ethan Landry in the Spiderman suit — because he was Spiderman(!!!!), the biggest mind-fuck you’d had since you found out Sam’s bio-dad was a weirdo murdering loser rotting in jail with his oddly homoerotic, equally as murderous, bestfriend — politely closing your window and dusting himself off so as to not get your room dirty. 
This was not the shock you were hoping for right before midterms. 
Then, you saw how pale-faced and sweaty Landry was, a red-and-blue gloved hand pressed against his abdomen, slowly hunching further. 
“Sorry— I,” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out between his teeth, “I got cut, and I— your apartment was closer than Chad and I’s place, and I also couldn’t go there, because I lost my keys while I was swinging—“ 
“Hold on— Landry! Back up a moment!” You protested, interrupting his anxious rambling. “Let’s get you patched up first, okay? I won’t accept any of your answers until then.” 
Quickly, you wrapped an arm around him, helping him limp over to your small, crowded apartment bathroom. 
You situated the 6'0 giant you’d only referred to as “Landry” for the better half of the past six months onto the toilet, then rummaged through your bathroom closet, searching for the first-aid kit Quinn had used on her latest hook-up just last week after he bonked his head on her bed frame. 
(That was hilarious and disgusting, having to sew stitches onto one of her hookups while she wore a police costume and him a bright prison suit. You were not going to pry, but crudely speaking, it was a shock to find out Quinn was… kinky.) 
When you finally got it, you turned, having expected Landry to have pulled the top half of his suit off. Instead, he sat, head leaning against the tiled bathroom walls, cloaked hand still pressed firm against his wound. 
“That thing’s got a zipper on it, doesn’t it?” You said, taking a peek at the backside of Landry’s suit. 
He nodded. 
“So?” You said, expectantly placing your hands on your hips. But Landry stayed still, as if something was holding him back. 
“By gods, Landry, are you embarrassed?” You said, aghast. By the looks of his increasingly red face, you were right.
Extremely affronted at his ill-timed shyness, you swiftly found the zipper to his Spiderman suit and helped the boy peel off the top half. 
“Jesus, Ethan, you’re practically bleeding to death. Stop being so shy, I can handle you of all people.” You whispered to him as you did so, and he let out a shaky breath. 
(Not because of the wound, but rather how close you were, his real name on your whispering lips as you almost graced the side of his face, your hands undressing him. He felt like he was on fire. 
Fuck, Ethan thought, then, immediately after, shook himself mentally of such thoughts.)
Then, with several beads of sweat dripping from Ethan’s forehead, a low groan coming from him, you saw just how bad his wound was. 
It was a messy, leaking gash on the left of his lower stomach, blood staining his thin skin. Landry seemed entirely focussed on the pain, eyes squinted and body wincing with every labored breath. 
So, you moved swiftly, opening up your bottle of rubbing alcohol and throwing the cap behind you, informing Ethan it was going to “hurt like the time Sam punched you square in the nose because she thought you were hooking up with Tara” (to be fair, that did hurt a lot — Ethan cried a little, after it, and you had to silently hand him tissues) before dousing his wound in the solution. 
Ethan’s back immediately arched in pain, head thrown back, and you could hear him bite back a soft whimper. His now-bare hands grabbed at the closest thing he could — your sweater sleeve, which was apparently at the perfect height for his incredibly lanky, though shockingly well-built, arms to hold — squeezing down in pain. 
“I’m sorry, truly,” you whispered, on your knees in front of him, as he was far too tall to perform this stitching up without doing so. 
(You continued by knotting your needle and thread, ignoring the odd predicament you had found yourself in, on your knees in a cramped bathroom, so close you could feel Ethan’s warm breath on your neck. You swallowed, head fuzzy, then blinked rapidly, trying to get your thoughts back on track.)
If that had bothered him, you were more than worried at how he’d react to your poor stitching ability. You’d only ever fixed up a hole in your shirt, so any sewing knowledge you knew, you were going to apply to Ethan’s skin now. 
“I’m gonna stitch it up now, okay?” You said, in a soft, dulcet tone, considering the pain he was going through. 
Ethan nodded vehemently, probably more so interested in getting it all over with. 
You made quick work of the operation, sewing his skin together, back and forth, back and forth. Your concentration drowned out any and all of your thoughts, except for a stuttered keen or bitten curse word from Ethan every now and then, that effectively shattered the mental wall you’d been building. 
Finally, you unraveled the white roll of bandages sitting on the counter, and wrapped a thick dressing around his abdomen, crossing over his left shoulder to give it some stability. 
(Your elbows had been propped up on either side of Ethan’s thighs, and you were so carefully focussed on wrapping his gash correctly that you hadn’t realized how close you were to his… well, him. 
Ethan had, however, and gulped at how suggestive his view was, looking down and just seeing the crown of your head over his lap. So Ethan looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately focussed on keeping something down.)
Finally, you finished, rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, and looked up at Ethan, who was leaning back, head on the wall. Your cheeks dusted pink, seeing how he stared at you through his long, brown lashes, slowly blinking, lips parted. 
You coughed, looking away from the boy, and got up. “You okay to stand?” 
Ethan blinked, then nodded, heaving himself up from the toilet seat. He limped across the hall to your bedroom, then sat on the chair sitting by your desk. 
“You should sleep here tonight. I don’t think your sister will ever forgive me if I let you go to bed alone with a knife-wound.” You flashed him a smile. “But first: what the hell was that?”
Ethan bit his lip. “Surprise?”
You gave Ethan a look, settling on your bed across from him. “I thought you were at that halloween party, with Chad and Quinn?”
“Okay, fine. I was at that party, but I… kinda sort of stole a police’s walkie talkie, like, two years ago and I’ve been using it since to hear about any crime going on. There was a 10-31 — an active burglary,” he said, noting your confused face, “at a local bodega, so I told everyone I was going home, and left. They’d run into an alley by the time I got there, so I followed them, and things got a little… messy.”
You nodded, following the story carefully. “And when did… all of this start?” You gestured to him in the half done up Spiderman suit. 
“Well,” Ethan averted your gaze, “When I was seventeen, I went with my dad to a crime scene during a stupid Bring-Your-Kid-to-work-day activity. The place was a real hole-in-the-wall illegal animal testing lab, and I was being dumb, touching things I shouldn’t have, geeking out over whatever latest smuggled in Oscorp tech they had blown up, when a spider bit me in the neck. After peeking through the case files, I found out it was a radioactive spider. The next few days after that I got sick, then got better, and one day after that I woke up and I could do crazy shit like climb my bedroom walls.”
You blinked, digesting the large threshold of information. Just as you were about to ask another question, Ethan let out a large, teary eyed yawn. 
All at once he seemed so much more tired than you thought he’d been, all the pain he’d experienced showing clearly on his delicate features.
Your brows knit together. “…Okay, I think it's time you change out of those clothes, I order food, then you go to bed.” 
Ethan agreed numbly, hunching over on the chair he was sitting on. Quickly, you began digging through your closet for clothes that might fit his muscular frame — a feature that surprised you as much as finding out he was Spiderman, considering you thought him to be a skinny and lanky tree. 
After a moment, you pulled out two pieces. “It’s all I had that would fit you,” you said quietly, handing him a pair of pink Hello-Kitty pajama pants you bought in the wrong size, and a “I Survived My Trip To NYC” shirt Mindy gave you back in highschool. “Sorry.”
“No, I—“ Ethan fumbled awkwardly, taking the clothes from you, ears tinged red, “thanks. For everything.” He settled on, looking from his hands to your face.
You peered up at him, analyzing the boy-hero. His deep brown eyes, the freckles that danced across his cheeks, how his lips pursed, watching you look at him.
The air between the both of you had suddenly turned static, and you were so much more aware of how flush you were against one another.
Ethan’s gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips, trailing across your face almost unbearably slow.
But then you blinked, sobered, and stepped away from him. “I’m— gonna,” you caught your breath, “I’ll let you change.”
You quickly exited, leaving Ethan in the room alone.
(Ethan’s face burned, terribly red while he felt feverish just by the slight touch of your fingers on his own. How you had stared at him, your eyes coursing over his entire being—
There had been something there, but Ethan could not find it in himself to pry.)
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cameronspecial · 25 days
Note
Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏
Don't Stain The Carpet
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.1K
Masterlist
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Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.” 
Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions. 
She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there. 
He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.” 
“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.” 
“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.” 
“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”
His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.” 
With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment. 
Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.
“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”
Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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