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sitepathos · 26 days ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 8: The Reunion

“Oh god, look at all these people,” you mutter, looking around the hall the award ceremony from your seat in the developer section, which is full beyond capacity. “Don’t think I’ve seen this many people before.”

The last time you saw so many people was your graduation night at Gotham Academy, but this makes that look like a small office party in comparison.

(There is no need to fret. You have polished your speech to perfection and have rehearsed it so many times you can recite it perfectly in your sleep. And when you are done, all will cheer for you.)

You smile at its words. No matter how uncertain you feel, the Megamycete always has your back. You’d hate to think where you’d be without it.

Well, without the Megamycete, you’d probably be dead.

“Wonder where Alfred is,” you wonder, looking around at the back of the hall. “He said he was coming.”

(We are sure he is here. The butler would swim through shards of broken glass to be here at the biggest triumph of your life.)

You’re so anxious to see the man; it’s been four years since you last saw him in person and you just know he’s going to bring up your lack of visits and probably try to guilt you into visiting since Gotham’s only three hours away, but you intend to stand your ground and go back to Goodsprings tomorrow.

“I hope he likes the suit I got,” you mutter, messing with your collar for the millionth time, not use to wearing such fancy clothes.

(He will. You chose from among millions of choices and made the best choice. Everyone in the room is no doubt in awe of your superior fashion choice.)

The day you were told you were in the running for this award, you drove to Vegas and spent well over an hour at the Men’s Warehouse, looking over and trying on countless suits. The salesman helped a bit, but many people in the Megamycete’s records included many upper class men, men’s fashion designers, and models, so you were more than capable of picking out a tasteful black blazer with a breast pocket perfect for holding your Momma’s pen, a white button up shirt, and matching black pants and dress shoes.

The clothes looked fine on the rack, but wearing them in public for all to see is something you had to psych yourself up for. You feel like a kid playing pretend with his father’s clothes and everyone knows it. Still, you can’t help but feel like a professional and take a little pride in it.

Just then, the lights dim and the audience cheers as the MC steps on stage.

“Hello, everyone,” he says. “Are you ready to kick off the Golden Games?”

The room fills with thunderous applause and cheers, yours among them. You’ve known about this event for years and have never missed watching it. When you first started your game, you fantasized about being at the Gamer’s Gala competing with your fellow developers for the Golden Joystick, but knew there was no chance your first game would ever make it to the first round of voting. Perhaps your second game. Or maybe your third.

But here you are, at this prestigious event with your first ever game in top contention for a prize so many covet.

You pinch yourself to make sure you’re awake and are pleased that you’re wide awake.

The ceremony opens up with the Golden Joystick for the Triple-A Game of the Year and awards for their various categories, like story, gameplay, music, graphics, etc.

“Alright, with all the big dogs out of the way, we finally get to the indie games. And boy, was this year a massive success for so many indie developers with over fifty percent of this year’s most anticipated games being indie games! Let’s go over your picks for this year’s Indie Game of the Year.”

You get a look at the trophy you and your peers are competing for: the Golden Joystick. As the name suggests, it’s a trophy in the shape of an old fashioned joystick made up of a gold material. For a moment, you allow yourself to visualize winning it and displaying it in your office. Hell, you had a spot on a shelf made for it when you got the email from the event committee that Salvage Rights was a candidate for Indie Game of the Year, even though voting was still ongoing.

The MC begins going through the list of games with said games and their developers being displayed on one massive screen behind him with the game’s team showing up on the other one. With each game mentioned, you think about your Momma; you can remember being at some awards ceremony years ago when one of her books was up for some fancy prize. Even back then, you could tell she was so nervous about getting up and making a speech in front of so many people and having it broadcast for all to see.

At the time, you didn’t understand because she would’ve been given an award and everyone could see. Unfortunately, she didn’t win and while she said she hope to win it, it was good enough to be considered for it, you were pissed on her behalf over it.

Being here, you understand why she felt that way. While it would be a dream come true to win the Golden Joystick on your first ever game, just being here, among your peers, is more than enough; knowing you’re skilled enough to make a game worthy of being judged among the best is a tremendous honor. Plus, the thought of having to make a speech in front of so many people makes you so nervous, you fear you’ll lose your lunch.

God, you wish your Momma was here. This is the biggest moment in your professional life and having her in the audience would make you feel better.

(We are sure she would give anything to be here for you. Wherever she is, she is no doubt watching this moment with unparalleled anticipation.)

“And last but not least, the game that exploded onto the scene a month ago and made a surprise cameo on the voting polls, Salvage Rights by Gould Games,” the MC announces as your game appears on one screen while you appear on the other, lit up by a spotlight.

You feel your face break out into a blush as the room fills with applause and cheers. To know that so many people hold you and your work in such high regard… it’s humbling to say the least.

You wave back and give them a big smile.

Finally, the room quiets down, allowing the ceremony to continue.

“Ok, everyone, with all the candidates on the board.” The screen on the right of the stage lists all the games and their developers, yours the last on the list. “We opened the polls for all gamers and had a record breaking ten-point-nine million ones this year for the Indie Game of the Year, guys!”

The room once again fills with applause and a girl runs from backstage, delivers him an envelope, and runs off.

“It took the Gala Committee a while to tally the votes, but when all was said and done, it was clear who the winner was.” He opens the envelope and a drumroll plays from the speakers to buildup the moment. As he pulls out the piece of paper inside it, you realize you’re holding your breath and your heart’s stopped due to the anticipation. “The Golden Joystick for Indie Game of the Year goes to…” He looks down at the paper and looks back up. “Salvage Rights by Gould Games!”

Your eyes become wide as saucers as you process the words, your heart resumes beating and your release the breath you’d been holding since the candidates were announced. You then realize you’re bathed in the spotlights as the big screen shows you at your seat; the room fills with applause and cheers, many people near you congratulating you.

You get up and walk to the stage, nodding and clapping hands with many you pass by on your way to claim your award. Finally, you make it on stage and shake hands with the MC, who gives you the Golden Joystick.

(This is the only way this could have ended. You worked tirelessly on your game and did not stop until it was the definition of perfection. You were more worthy than any other for this trophy.)

“Thank you,” you say into the mic, silencing the room. “I just want to thank my fellow game developers, the Committee, and especially the gamers, who gave me the opportunity to be here.” This garners more applause. “I have to say, when I first started working on Salvage Rights, I never in a million years thought I’d be here, in the most prestigious gaming event, receiving the greatest award an indie game can receive, but I guess I was proven wrong.”

The room fills with laughter and you sigh in relief. Good, they seem to be liking your speech.

(As they should. You revised it over a dozen times and practiced it in front of your stuffed toys at least fifty times.)

“When I first got into video games, it was just because I was a kid who was fascinated by being able to play on a DS anytime, anyplace. Now, I’m into video games because they are the new medium of art. Think about it, there are games out there that have stories that would made Shakespeare weep, music worthy of being performed in symphonies, and art styles that should be studied by artists hundred years from now. It’s a medium that transcends all others that have come before it.”

More applause. Good, they like it.

“I first started work on Salvage Rights not long after my fifteenth birthday, nine years to the day that I unfortunately lost my Momma to a drunk driver.” You see many people in the audience take notice at this, clearly not expecting to hear something so tragic. “At the time, I was living in a place that neglected me; from the day I first arrived, I was treated like I didn’t exist and any attempts I made to get their attention was ignored.” Clearly your words resonate with people, because you can see a few people tearing up.

“I had someone there I could rely on, and he made those times more bearable, but he couldn’t get rid of that feeling of loneliness that I had felt for years and all I wanted was for my Momma to walk through that door and take me back home. But no matter how much I hoped and prayed, she never came and my loneliness only got worse with each day.

“My only escape from those days were video games. While in real life, I was a nobody in that house, but I was able to dive into one game where I was a noble hero who was destined to defeat the embodiment of evil, or dive into another game where I tamed the mightiest of beasts and triumph over the strongest of champions, or dive into one game where i could master every life skill possible and bring light to a world facing eternal darkness. It was during those days that I learned that games provided an escape from the confines of reality, if only for a little bit. And that’s when I realized I wanted to create a game that could allow someone to escape reality and become the best version of themselves.”

There’s definitely a couple people on the audience crying at this point.

(You have them eating out of the palm of your hand. Time to reel them in.)

“So, I want to thank each and every one of you, both those in this room and watching across the globe, for giving my game a chance and allowing me to fulfill my dream. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

The room explodes into applause and cheers, even a few whistles. I shake hands with the MC once more walk off stage and cross the room back to your seat, shaking hands and receiving pats on the back the entire time.

(A resounding success,) the Megamycete says as you sit down. (They hung on your every word. After tonight, everyone will know of your talent and many will beg for the opportunity to work on their newest project, offering you the world in exchange for your expertise. As they should.)

“Easy, buddy, you’re gonna give me one hell of an ego at this rate.”

(It is only naturally to think so highly of yourself. Compared to everyone in this room, you are a god.)

The rest of the ceremony features trailers for games releasing in the near future and announcements for new titles, making a note to keep an eye on many of them for you to buy on release or pre-order when they become available.

After the ceremony, you follow the rest of the developers to the Developer’s Lounge, a room that’s lavishly decorated and fully stocked with a wide array of food and drinks being served by a dozen waiters, all of it courtesy of Lex Luthor, who is currently talking to a group of triple-A executives, his bodyguard close behind him; many of your peers and various VIPs are already eating, drinking, and talking with other developers, game journalists (ugh), or their personal guests. You gratefully accept a champagne flute from a passing waiter and make your way around the room, looking around for any sign of Alfred.

“Where is he,” you mutter to yourself, scanning the room.

“Mr. Y/N Gould,” a masculine voice calls out to you, making you turn to the source: a tall, blue eyed man wearing a pair of black framed glasses, a grey jacket over a dark blue tie and light blue button up shirt, navy blue pants, and black loafers.

(We sense a spike in your heart rate. Are you alright?)

Oh, you’re better than alright. Some attractive man knows your name and wants to speak to you.

(You are attracted to this man. This is the first time we have ever experienced infatuation firsthand. We look forward to seeing this interaction unfold.)

“Yes,” you say, managing to find your voice. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Clark Kent, Daily Planet,” the man responds, raising his hand and you accept.

It’s then you notice the feel of something metallic and when you glance at his hand, you see a gold wedding band.

Damn it.

(We grieve the loss of your potential mate.)

Oh well, always lots of fish in the sea.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Kent?”

“Yes, the Daily Planet was hoping to write an article on the winner of the winner of the Indie Game of the Year. Is there anyway I can talk you into doing an interview?”

(He can still be of use to you. By doing this interview, he can help you find you a worthy mate.)

Great, now you have sentient mold trying to play matchmaker. Well, at least you’ll be able to get more people interested in your game. The Daily Planet’s the biggest paper in Metropolis and has decent following around the country.

“I hope you can wait a little while for that interview, Kent.”

You freeze at the new voice, a voice you haven’t heard in over four years. You hope that, somehow, you’ve made some huge mistake and it’s not who you think it is. You then realize that the entire room’s gone silent, sans a few whispers, and now all eyes are on you and the newcomer behind you, Clark chief among them.

You realize that your breathing and your heartbeat have ceased, and the pit of anxiety and fear from earlier has returned, but there’s now rage included in that mix; rage you haven’t felt in over four years. Rage that finally went away when you finally escaped Gotham and put it and Wayne Manor in your rearview mirror.

You feel a hand grasp your left shoulder and out of the corner of your eye, see a tall figure come to a stop to your right. You slowly turn your head to fae the figure and look up to see your worst nightmare: Bruce Fucking Wayne looking down at you, his signature fake ass smile adorning his stupid mug and a champagne flute similar to yours in hand.

He’s dressed far too formal for an event about video games, wearing a designer black suit with matching pants that probably cost more than your car. You can dig through all your memories of the man and never find one instance of the man wearing anything casual. And that smile of his, the one he always flashes to his insufferable blue-blooded friends; you want to punch him so hard in the face that every last tooth shatters, but you manage to put a lid on that urge.

If only just barely.

(What is this shameless heathen doing here,) the Megamycete hisses. (The audacity of this creature to show up on the best night of your life and ruin it. You should kill him. Immediately.)

Right now, you’re really tempted to give him the Joker Treatment.

“I’m afraid Y/N and I have much to talk about.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark stampers out. “Do you know Mr. Gould?”

“I would say so,” he responds in that fake cheery tone he only reserves for galas and paparazzi, those “honeyed words” so disgustingly sweet and fake it makes you want to vomit. Preferably on him. He tries to pull you closer to him, but you’re able to resist it no problem thanks to the Megamycete. “He’s my son.”

And like that, the crowd around you descends into chaos, many of them loudly talking among themselves while others take out their phones and cameras and begin snapping pictures of the two of you, and so many media types are shouting questions towards you and him.

But all that doesn’t really phase you. Right now, you feel as if the world has crumbled around you and now you’re left free falling in an endless void, doomed to spend the rest of eternity in this sort of purgatory.

You’re frozen where you stand, unable to look anywhere else but at the face of the man you hate with your entire being and as you look into those eyes of his, every single memory of your stay at Wayne Manor flashes before your eyes; you’re overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness, loneliness, pain, and humiliation you were forced to deal with during those twelve long, horrible years. Right now, it takes every bit of restraint and willpower you have to not let all the thoughts you have of ripping this bastard’s head off and kicking it so far that every NFL team in the country would offer you fifty million in advance if you signed on with them become reality.

(You should do it. Kill this man. Teach him the meaning of pain. Let him feel all the pain he and his flock have caused you for years and despair. Make him regret ever taking you for granted.)

Ok, your usual voice of reason is now howling for blood. This does not bold well for you.

“Mr. Wayne,” you finally respond, finding the strength to keep your voice steady and not cause a scene (or at least a bigger one than he has already); you brush his hand off your shoulder, making a mental note to burn these clothes (damn it, you paid good money for these). “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, I’m definitely not your son. Perhaps you’ve had too much to drink? Wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. You should sit down before you make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of all these people.”

His smile falls and you can see the hurt shine in his eyes for a fraction of a second. He’s an expert at concealing his emotions, so for you to do something like that makes you giddy.

“Y/N,” he pathetically responds as he reaches out to you, but you take a step back. “I am—“

“You’re a sperm donor, nothing more, Mr. Wayne,” you hiss, revealing in the hurt expression that breaks out on his face. It’s probably fake, a stunt to pull for the crowd, but you don’t care. You’ve held all these feelings in for years and now that you have the chance to give this son of a bitch a piece of your mind, you’re taking it. “You’re not my dad and I’m sure as hell not your son!”

“Y/N, I know I wasn’t the best father to you, but—“

You lose it at that. All the abuse and misery and neglect you had to deal with from him and his kids for over ten years, and he has the nerve to say he “knows” anything about how you feel? In a swift motion, you throw your champagne at him, dousing his face in the clear-yellowish drink that quickly pours down his neck and soaks his expensive black jacket.

The crowd gasps at this, but you absolutely couldn’t give a shit. This was to be the best night of your life and he had to go and ruin it by daring to show his hideous face and dare to have a conversation with you. Fuck, he probably took Alfred’s place, so you had no one here to share in your big moment, something that makes you even more pissed off.

Throwing your champagne at him only made your rage burn hotter, demanding to inflict as much pain and suffering on this man that you’ve suffered for years. You quickly close the gap between you two, deliver a harsh right hook to the right side of the man’s jaw and follow up by shoving the man as hard as you can (though still holding back a lot of strength so you don’t reveal what you really are), causing him to topple to the floor, landing on his ass.

At this rate, you don’t really care what people say about you after this, all you care about is hurting him. You look down at the pathetic wretch at your feet and love the look of horror and pain etched on his face, reveling in the terror in his eye and the blood dripping from his closed mouth.

(Yes,) the Megamycete screams. (More. More. Make him hurt. Make him bleed. Make him realize who the superior one is.)

“Someone call an ambulance, this asshole’s gonna need one,” you growl, pouncing towards the man who made you lose the best years of your life, ready to pound his face so hard that they’ll have to rely on fingerprints to identify him.

Just then, you’re caught in mid-air and when you look behind you, it’s Clark, his arms wrapped around your waist in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Mr. Gould,” he says in a tone like he’s trying to soothe a startled animal (which isn’t too far off the mark). “Please, control yourself.”

You don’t want to. In front of you is the man who treated you like shit from the day you two met, making you wish you were in the car when your Momma died so that you never met him. This was suppose to be your night — your moment of triumph — and he had to go and ruin it. And you want nothing more than to put this man in a full body cast, and that’s you being generous.

But when you see the look of total shock on his face, and everyone in the crowd who has the same expression, your rage finally cools down. Not because you feel guilty over what you did to Bruce, you were ready to reduce him to a bloody red paste, but because everyone just saw your absolute worst.

You go slack in Clark’s hold and that’s when he finally lets you go, having to command the mold to reinforce your leg bones to keep you standing because without it, you’re ready to collapse form the burst of energy you just burned through.

“Is there a problem here,” Lex says as he emerges from the crowd, Mercy following close behind. He glances down at Bruce and a ghost of a smirk appears on his face.

“I have an axe to grind with him,” you say, doing your best to even out your voice. “I’m sorry for making a scene.”

“What about pushing Mr. Wayne,” Lex asks, motioning to the man.

“No, that’s something I’m very proud of.”

You can see Bruce flinch at that and it makes you feel good.

“Well, it’s always a pleasure to see Bruce Wayne be taken down a peg,” the man chuckles. He then turns to the rest of the crowd. “Alright, show’s over, everyone. Go back to your own business.”

Slowly but surely, the crowd breaks up and the party resumes, but you can definitely tell many of the media types are still looking at you and Bruce and are no doubt chomping at the bit to talk to either of you, many of them furiously typing on their phones, probably texting their bosses and sending whatever pictures and videos they took.

“Mr. Gould, I’d be honored if you would give me a few minutes of your time.” He extends his arm as if you were a woman. “I have much I’d like to talk with you about.”

You discreetly glance down at Bruce, who looks like he’s ready to do to Lex what you did to him a minute ago. You know that Lex is only doing this to piss off Bruce, his biggest business rival, and is probably using you in hopes of getting some speck of dirt on Bruce and maybe even some Wayne Enterprises secrets.

And god damn it if the thought of that doesn’t make you giddy.

“Of course,” you say in a sweet tone of voice, looping your arm in Lex’s. “The honor would be mine.”

He leads you towards a private area of the lounge and as you pass by Bruce, who’s still on the floor, you glance over at him and give him a dirty look, making it clear that you hate his guts and the next time he tries something like this, you won’t hold back.

You don’t know what Bruce wants and why he’s suddenly showed up after four years of your leaving, but chances are he’s only here to serve his own agenda and you want nothing to do with him or his crazy ass family. You have your own life and are finally happy for the first time in years, and you’ll be damned if you’ll allow all your hard work to be destroyed.

If it comes down to it, you’ll wage war against him and the rest of the Bats.

(Yes, clip their wings. Tear them to shreds. Grind them into powder. Tear down everything that they are and leave nothing behind so they are forgotten by the world.)

Bruce watches as you and Lex wonder off to some desolate corner of the lounge, simultaneously plotting an attack on Lex Corp that will hot Luthor hard and replaying his interaction with you, going through millions of different ways that could’ve gone better. Or at least, not ended with you almost tearing him limb from limb, the only thing saving him was Kent’s intervention.

Ok, maybe approaching you like Brucie Wayne, millionaire playboy philanthropist, was a bad idea, but it was the only way he could think of that wouldn’t scare you off. He really thought that talking to you with his usual charm and bravado would’ve at least given him a chance to talk to you.

All it got him was a look into your temper.

Fuck, the look of pure rage and disgust in your eye the entire time you talked to him. Right now, he just wants to curl up and die, but he also wants to scoop you up into his arms, hug you tightly, and beg for your forgiveness, no matter how much of a fool he made of himself or how much you bite, scratch, and hit him.

It’s then he thinks back on you shoving him and it’s then he realizes it doesn’t make any sense. He’s a solid six-foot-two, way taller than you and while he would never call you weak, you definitely aren’t a bodybuilder, so he should’ve been able to withstand your shove no problem. But he’s been fighting against beings with super strength all his adult life, so he knows the difference between a strong human and a Meta.

But you’re not a Meta, right? He’s spent the last twenty-four hours digging up every piece of information he can on you, your medical records from Southern Hills Hospital being one of the first things he delved into. When you were born, you were a healthy baby boy, no signs of illness and certainly no trace of the Meta Gene. He even has your medical records during your time in Gotham (Alfred being the one to take you to all your appointments because he certainly didn’t do it), and everything points to you being in perfect health.

So, how were you able to shove him like that, a man who goes toe-to-toe with the likes of Bane on a regular basis?

“Are you ok, Bruce,” Clark asks, extending his hand to help him up.

“I’m fine,” he responds, brushing the hand aside and getting up on his own.

“Pardon me if I don’t believe that, I could tell you were shaken up by that.”

If there’s one skill Bruce prides himself on, it’s his ability to conceal his emotions, able to hide his true feelings from anyone and everyone, even from telepaths such as Martian Manhunter.

But seeing how his son, his baby boy, feels about him made him forget his control. Him not being able to hide the pain he felt when you lashed out at him, clearly holding a lot of anger and resentment towards him, was one of the few experiences that has shaken him to his core.

“Mr. Wayne,” Vicky Vale says as she emerge from the crowd and approaches them. “Care to make a statement on what just happened?”

It takes everything he has to not let out a groan. Of course, Vicky Vale is always there whenever some drama happens to either him or his children in public. She had a field day with him when he she asked about his bruises and limp he got last time he fought Killer Croc and he had to play it off as some really kinky sex he and some supermodel had.

“Not now, Vicky,” he responds, leading Clark closer to where you and Lex walked off to. “I have a prior engagement with Mr. Kent here.”

“I didn’t know you had a son before Damian,” Clark whispers as they walk.

“Let’s just say I did everything wrong when it came to him,” he responds back, keeping his voice low. “I found out I screwed up and came here to try to make amends. You know how that ended.”

“I know, we all had front row seats to that. Also, I’ve been listening to his and Lex’s conversation the entire time.”

“What’s that bastard saying to him,” he hisses, pissed off beyond words that snake is talking to you, his baby boy.

“So far, Y/N’s just trash talking you, calling you every name in the book and angry that you ruined his big night.”

Bruce winces at that. He knew it’s Alfred you want here to share in your achievement, but he couldn’t miss this night, not when he’s missed so much of your life. To see you, smiling on stage and acting so humble after wining an award as important as that was absolutely mesmerizing.

Of course, your speech hit him like a freight train. He knew he wasn’t the father you deserved, but to hear you talk about your time with him so poorly was more than he was prepared to handle. Of course you miss your mother and he’s glad you think so highly of her, but is there really nothing he can do to make you reconsider giving him another chance? To give his family another chance?

“Lex is now offering to be a benefactor to Gould Games; Y/N have total creative license on all projects and would be given a massive office in one of Metropolis’ premiere high-rises.”

“In exchange for WE secrets, no doubt.”

The thought of you and Lex working together makes him sick. The man is a snake and wouldn’t hesitate to betray you if it benefitted him in any way. If you need money for your new games, he’d be more than happy to do it! You could be a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises with as large a budget as you want, with your choice of office in Wayne Tower or around Gotham. You’d have all the best computers and software that money could buy and if you need to hire more people, you can choose all the people you want and he’d personally arrange for them to be flown to Gotham, ready to work as soon as possible.

“That’s right,” Clark responds. “Don’t worry, he turned him down. Looks like you won’t be losing nay more money to Lex this year.”

“Y/N doesn’t know anything.”

As sad as it is, that’s the truth; you’d been shut out by all of them that you couldn’t give any of his secrets away. Hell, you don’t even know that you’ve been living with Gotham’s vigilantes.

“He’s been kept in the dark about everything,” he mutters as he looks at you, chatting away with Metropolis’ biggest wannabe.

Maybe he should tell you that he and your siblings are Gotham’s vigilantes? Not that it’s any excuse with how they treated you for yeas, but with any hope, it would make you more understanding on why they were always so busy and at least consider talking with them.

Just then, Clark winces at something Lex just said.

“What,” he snaps.

“Lex just invited him for dinner. And based off his tone, he has more in mind than just business.”

And with that, all he can see is red and he’s filled with rage at the bald bastard.

“Bruce, wait,” Clark calls out as he stops over to where you are.

“Bruce,” Lex says with a smirk as he approaches the both of you. “I hope you’re not looking for another beating from Y/N.”

He looks over to you, your expression clearly indicating you’re visualizing beating the hell out of him right now.

“Of course not, I just wanted to extend an invitation to him for dinner. It’s been forever since we had a father-son dinner.”

“We’ve never had dinner together before,” you snarl.

“His loss, I assure you,” Lex responds, giving you a look that makes Bruce want to punch his lights out.

“Y/N has nothing you want, Lex,” Bruce growls, trying to keep his anger from getting the best of him. “Leave him alone.”

“I disagree, Bruce. Y/N is charming, witty, and a delightful to be around.” He has a twinkle in his eye that makes Bruce even angrier. “He definitely takes after his mother.”

Bruce opens his mouth to spit some insult at the fucker, but you intervene.

“Yes, Momma raised me well,” you say, looking right at him before looking back at Lex. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Luthor, but I’m afraid I’m heading back home first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe the next time I’m in the area?”

“I’m certainly hoping that will be soon.” He pulls out a card and hands it to you. “My personal phone number and email. The next time you come to Metropolis, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me and I’ll see to it you’re afforded every luxury this city has to offer.”

“Thank you,” you responded, taking the card and pocketing it. “I certainly hope to visit again soon. Metropolis is way better than Gotham. Hard to believe that cesspit is its sister city.”

He winces hearing your clear disdain for his city, the home of his family. Your rightful home.

“Indeed,” Lex chuckles. “Gotham is so painfully outdated in every respect it’s almost funny. If I had my way, all of its archaic structures would be torn down and replaced for more modern and aesthetically pleasing replacements.”

“That style is Gotham,” Bruce growls, unable to put up with the disrespect of his city. “Gotham has resembled its current form for over a hundred years now. It’s a reflection of its storied past.”

“A storied past of misery and insanity,” you respond. “Gotham isn’t a place where good people end up. It’s a spiderweb that slowly drains everyone within it of all they have, leaving nothing but empty husks behind. Maybe all of it should be torn down.”

You say the words, but all he hears is his voice. When his parents were killed, he felt the same way about Gotham as you do. It took him years to finally shed his hatred and resentment for the city and see its beauty. As much as you’d probably hate to admit it, you really are his son.

“I’d love to stay and continue this riveting conversation, but I’m afraid I have an appointment across town. He turns to his bodyguard. “Mercy, ready the car.” She nods and leaves. “And Y/N, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in my city. Perhaps you’d allow me the honor of taking you to the airport myself?”

“I’d like that very much, Mr. Luthor,” you say, giving that bastard a smile that makes his blood boil.

“Please, call me Lex.”

“Ok, Lex,” you say with a chuckle.

Oh, he’s going to make Luthor suffer for this. When he gets back to the Batcave, he’s going to plant so many viruses into Luthor’s systems, he’ll spend months recovering a single piece of data.

Finally, the man walks away, leaving you and him alone at last.

“I’ll say this only once, Mr. Wayne,” you say in a tone that shows you mean business. “So listen close: I don’t know what you’re doing here or what you hoped to achieve here, but stay away from me. I’m finally happy for the first time in years and I won’t allow you to fuck it up for me.”

He winces at your words. And the fact that you’re calling him “Mr. Wayne,” like he’s a stranger (though with how he treated you for over ten years, that’s not too far from the truth). He knows that he has no right to be called “dad” or “father,” but you can’t even call him by his name like your siblings do? Do you really hate him that much?

“Y/N, please—“

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, cutting him off. “This is your only warning: stay away from me. I’m not weak like I was when I was first dragged to Gotham. Keep butting in where you don’t belong and I’ll personally reunite you with your parents.”

You go to walk away, but he grabs you by your shoulder. You quickly snap your head to look at him, your expression so full of hate and disgust. He knows this isn’t helping his case, but he can’t let you leave like this; he needs to keep you here so he can talk to you, to beg you for just a few minutes of your time.

You grab his hand with yours and begin squeezing so hard his hand begins to throb and he has to fight to hide his expression of pain from the crowd.

Not only do you not look you visit the gym, but this type of strength is something beyond what a normal human is capable of. Just what secrets do you have?

He meets your gaze and he has to suppress the fear he feels when looking in your eyes. There’s hate in them, no doubt about that, but there’s something else in them. Something dark. It also doesn’t help that you have his mother’s eyes and seeing them look at him that way cuts him to his core.

You shove his hand away from you and you storm off, ignoring as a dozen journalists come up to you and leaving him to stand there, watching you walk away from him and ignoring the throbbing of his hand.

“You ok,” Clark asks after walking up to him.

“No,” he mutters. He looks down at the camera in the Kryptonian’s hand. “Did you take any pictures of him during the ceremony?”

“Yeah,” the reporter responds, holding it up. “I was in the press section of the audience. I got a couple good shots.”

“Send them to me,” he orders while walking off.

Many reporters try to talk to him, but he doesn’t spare them a second glance. Right now, all that matters is planning his next move. You’ve made it very clear that you resent them for how they treated you while you lived with them and while he understands that perfectly, you need to understand that he’s your father and his children are your siblings.

He’s happy that you’ve made a life for yourself in Nevada and are successful in your career as a video game developer, but you’re a Wayne and all Waynes belong in Gotham, under his roof.

He gets his phone out and tells his children to be ready for a family meeting as soon as he returns in the morning. As much as he wants to find a way to bring you back to the fold on his own, he can’t do it alone. With any luck, your siblings will be able to reach you. Hell, he might have to call on Alfred to help bring you home.

He will uncover everything about you (including whatever what you just did) and when he does, he’ll use that knowledge to make you realize you’re son and your rightful place is by his side, where he can keep an eye on you and shield you from the dangers of this world.

One way or another, you’ll come back to Gotham and when you do, he and you’ll siblings will shower you in the love you deserve. And after that, they’ll throw the biggest gala ever, with you as the centerpiece, and show you off as the most important member of the Wayne Family; all of Gotham elite will climb over one another in hopes of courting you, but he and you siblings will never allow them to come anywhere close to you as you won’t need anyone but them to keep you company.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes or what he has to do, he’ll learn your secrets (as is his birthright) and lead you back to where you belong.

Even if he has to drag you back home by your ankles.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @v0idl1nq @diejager @solelifauna @bunbunbread @ratchetprime211 @ellaprime7 @fantasyhopperhea @exactlynumberonekryptonite @bellethesleepypotato @roseytheteacup @orbitingtraveler @lunaluz432

#male reader #yandere batfamily #batfamily #batfamily x male reader #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere stephanie brown #from gold to mold #batman #dc x male reader

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writerswall26 · 9 months ago

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My Sweet Cairo (Part 8)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, Emotions, Mention of death and SH.

Words: 2.4k

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: I was so pumped while writing this. I enjoyed this part so much. We get to know what really happened and flesh out R's father's mind. We also saw Cairo being responsible and using the advices she received to get some help! Happy Reading!

Y/N tried to avoid being alone the entire day, not wanting to give Cairo the opportunity to have even a minute to talk to her. What Cairo told her a few nights ago is still stuck in her head. She doesn't know if she should be afraid or what.

"Hey, Y/—"

"Will you walk me home?" Cairo cut Jasmine off as soon as Y/N got out of her last class of the day. She was not expecting Cairo to wait for her!

Y/N looked shocked and confused. She gave Jasmine a look. But her friend just stood by and watched the scene unfold. Traitor!

"Y/N, walk me home, please?" Cairo said, sweetly this time, with a smile on her face.

"Uhm, I'm sorry but I have—"

"Uh no, we're not going. I gotta study for a pop quiz tomorrow. Winnie's coming to help me, I'm sorry dude." Jasmine cut the taller girl off.

Y/N glared at her while Cairo smiled widely. "So?" Cairo asked cutely, for fuck's sake!

"Uhm, sure." Y/N said hesitantly.

"Great!" Cairo said happily before she held the taller girl's hand and pulled her.

Y/N didn't say a single word as she turned to Jasmine and gave her a look, mouthing "I'm killing you tomorrow, you traitor!"

On the way home, the two of them did not say a word. They went with Y/N's route instead of Cairo's since Y/N has her bike with her.

"I've talked to Mr. Miller." Cairo started, causing Y/N to stop for a moment.

"Why?" She asked before she followed Cairo again.

"I went to apologise." Cairo started, causing Y/N to furrow her brows. "I'm seeing a therapist now," Cairo said, glancing at Y/N who looked really confused, and cute. "Your mom referred me to a work colleague of hers. Told me it might help with the issues I had."

Y/N is confused, like really confused. "Mum did that? Why?"

Cairo shrugged. "We were together for a few hours before you came when we had dinner. She confronted me about what I did. Told me the same thing you said, how messed up it was. Then she told me about a friend of hers, a therapist, she told me I should check it out, see if it helps. That's why I went to Mr. Miller. I want to sort things out before graduation."

"What did Mr. Miller say?"

"We sat down, talked about what went wrong, what happened. He apologized to me too. He accepted the fact that he was in the wrong too, that he wasn't careful and clear, that he stepped the boundaries and led me on."

Well that's... incredibly surprising. Y/N never thought she'd be hearing a redemption arc between two messed up individuals. Although, she's happy to hear that Mr. Miller's finally seen what he did wrong. That's a huge point. And she's happy that Cairo's seeking out help.

"So, how long would you be going to therapy?" Y/N asked, glancing at Cairo who pursed her lips.

"I don't know. As long as I need, I guess. It's not really that bad." Cairo said, smiling at the thought that Y/N is finally talking to her with anger and resentment in her voice.

"How about when you go to college? You wouldn't know anyone around there."

"My therapist knows a friend where I'm going to go. She said she'd refer me to him and continue therapy there."

Y/N nodded. "That's a good thing."

Cairo looked up at her, a smile on her face, her dimples showing. "How long have you gone to therapy?"

Y/N pursed her lips. "A year and a half, I guess? My therapist told me she was proud of my progress so she adviced that I spend my time being a normal kid. She told me I should come to her whenever I need and so far, it's all good."

Cairo nodded. "That's good. I'm proud of you."

Y/N chuckled, lowering her head. "Alright, mum." She said, which made Cairo laugh as well.

They continued walking silently, comfortable silence this time until they reached Cairo's place.

"Here's you." Y/N said, stopping in front of Cairo's house.

The brunette turned to her and gave her a smile. "Thank you for walking me home."

Y/N nodded. "It's no biggie."

Cairo leaned up and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she walked inside the house, throwing a glance at the tall girl who waved at her.

When Y/N was sure Cairo's finally inside, she rode her bike and went home where she waited for her mum to come home to ask questions.

That night, when Y/M/N came home, she was immediately cornered by Y/N at dinner.

"I was wondering," Y/N started. "What were you talking about with Cairo before I got home that night?"

Y/M/N gave her a smile. "You, Mr. Miller, dad." The older woman answered shortly.

Y/N furrowed her brows. "You talked to her about dad?"

Y/M/N nodded. "Yes, I wanted her to know how terrible of a person she was for doing what she did. But then there's Mr. Miller."

"Who's not entirely at fault."

"But he was indeed the adult in the situation."

"You're defending Cairo, mum."

Y/M/N looked at her daughter, seeing the problem once and for all. "I'm not defending Cairo, what she did was wrong, yes. But don't you think what Mr. Miller did was far worse than that?"

Y/N stayed quiet, thinking.

"Honey, Mr. Miller's case is different from your dad's case. You have to see that." Y/M/N explained, Y/N is being blinded by what happened to her dad.

"I know. I know it's different."

"And?" Y/M/N tried to probe further.

"I'm not defending Mr. Miller either, mum. If that's what you think. Maybe I'm over compensating. Maybe I thought by helping Mr. Miller, I gave justice to what happened to dad. But what if I'm wrong, mum?"

"Are you? Look at it from an outside perspective, honey. Look at it both ways."

Y/N furrowed her brows. She doesn't know where to go from here. It's weird talking about this with her mum but at the same time, the answers are clearer. Her mind wasn't being blocked by her emotions, her father's connection to the case. If there's anyone to blame, it's the both of them, Cairo and Mr. Miller. There's no one to defend, no one to side with.

"There's always a connection, honey." Her mum brought her back to her senses. "But there's a huge difference and that's what I want you to see. Yes, Cairo was in the wrong for seducing Mr. Miller. But is it entirely her fault? Is it really? Why would she act that way if Mr. Miller didn't do anything wrong?"

"Was I wrong for helping Mr. Miller?" Y/N finally asked, looking at her mum with worried eyes.

Y/M/N gave her a smile as she held her hand, squeezing it to assure her. "You did what you thought was right at the time. You saved both of them by doing so. Don't beat yourself up for it."

Y/N stayed up that night thinking of what her mum had told her. She wasn't really thinking when she lent a hand to Mr. Miller. She knew it was wrong, she heard it from Mr. Miller himself. And yet, she still sided with him for what? For her father? No, she thought. It's for personal gain. She had the power to turn the story around, and she did. So what does that say about her?

She's no different from those students she despises the most. Maybe even worse. Her thoughts are so incriminating, so powerful that she did not blink sleep that night.

So the next day when she got to class, she was noticeably tired. She looked like a walking zombie and anyone who sees her thought so too. Her friends and Cairo saw that too and they were worried.

"What happened to you?" Winnie asked over lunch when Y/N didn't even touch her food, she's usually a foodie.

Y/N gave her a tired look and shook her head. "I'm just tired."

"We can see that, dude. You have dark circles around your eyes." Jasmine said, as worried.

Y/N sighed. "Did you guys think I made the wrong decision? When I stood up for Mr. Miller?"

Winnie and Jasmine turned to one another, giving each other looks.

"I mean, what Cairo did was fucked up. She literally wrote a porn story between her and Mr. Miller." Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"However, I don't think Cairo's entirely at fault. I mean, she messed up but not entirely her fault." Winnie said, on the other hand.

Y/N groaned. "Maybe I should've just shut my mouth and let them do whatever to Mr. Miller."

"Hey, woah, hold up." Jasmine started, getting the attention of her friend. "You did what you thought was best, okay? Both of them fucked up, that's a fact. The other one stepped on the fine line, and the other one was led on. There's no winning in this situation."

"Whatever you did, you did it for them both. Struck two birds with one stone, as they say." Winnie said, holding Y/N's hand and squeezing it gently.

Y/N gave them a small smile and nodded. "Maybe I shouldn't really beat myself up with this one."

"Damn right, you shouldn't." Jasmine said, giving her an assuring smile.

After their class, she was already outside Cairo's last class, waiting for the girl to come out. When Cairo saw her, an immediate smile drew her face.

"What are you doing here? You should've gone home and got some sleep. Look at you." Cairo said, holding a gentle hand to Y/N's cheek to look at her face.

"Can I walk you home?" Y/N asked with a sheepish smile.

Cairo was shocked to say the least. She did not expect that. She was expecting Y/N to come around but not this fast. Still, she was happy about it.

"Sure." Cairo smiled, holding out a hand to Y/N to shake her head.

"That's reaching."

"Oh." Cairo said, a bit disappointed but she smiled it away.

"Come on."

The duo walked out of school together. They're all smiles and shit but still, Y/N cannot take her mind off her conversation with her mum. She might as well talk to Cairo now.

So when they got to Cairo's place, the brunette did not expect that Y/N would park her car on the fence and followed her to her front porch. The taller girl sat on the step and patted the space beside her.

"What's going on?" Cairo asked, sitting beside Y/N who gave her a smile.

The taller girl stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

Cairo nodded. "What do you want to talk about?" She asked, wanting Y/N to start the conversation.

"I don't know. I just want to have clarity. I had a talk with my mum last night. It was a hard pill to swallow but, I guess it was needed."

""What happened to him? Your dad?" Cairo asked, glancing at Y/N who was looking at the trees ahead.

"My mum didn't tell you?" She asked, confused. She thought they spoke about her dad.

"Not all of it."

Y/N glanced at Cairo, contemplating if she should tell her about it or not. A part of her doesn't want to, because talking about it means relieving it and she hates that. She hates that she's going back to that time. But a huge part of her wants to let it all out, just throw it out there and forget about it all.

She chose the latter.

Y/N took a deep breath.

"I don't know when it started. My dad was really passionate about teaching. He was really good at what he did. He's a great father, you know? He was always present and attentive to my needs." Y/N started, smiling at the memory of her father in every soccer game, every recital, every academic competitions, everything. He was always there, always smiling and looking proud.

"One semester during sophomore year, he came home all happy and giddy, it wasn't unusual really. He was always happy and giddy. But this one's just different. He told us he had met this student in class, he thought she was brilliant." Y/N stopped for a moment, trying to calm herself down before she started crying and shouting.

Cairo noticed how hard it is for Y/N to continue so she held the taller girl's hand in her own and squeezed it. "You don't have to continue. I believe I got the gist of it."

Y/N shook her head and turned to Cairo with a pained smile. "I want to continue."

Cairo looked worried, but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay. But you can stop anytime." She gave out an assuring smile.

Y/N nodded, squeezing Cairo's hand gently. "He told mum and I all about this girl. We were amazed by her. So we told dad to bring her home one time so we could talk. He did. We had a barbeque one saturday, family's all there and she was there. I thought she was brilliant, she was so fascinating with all the things she knew. Little did we know, she would cause the biggest heart break to ever happen to us."

Y/N shook her head. "During the middle of the semester, my father started to act weird. He started getting drunk, not sleeping, he started being absent. One day he came home and told us he was let go of his job. My mum and I asked why, he never answered. The days after that, he became difficult. He would pick a fight with me and mum. He would get angry. He would get drunk, pass out on the couch. I slowly watched my father become a shell of what he used to be. He just stopped functioning."

Cairo could not help it anymore. She stood up and went in front of Y/N, hugging the girl in her arms tightly as she gently brushed Y/N's hair with her fingers, wanting the taller girl to know that she's there, that it's okay. Y/N leaned in Cairo's arms, sighing heavily.

"Then my mum knew about what happened. Turns out the girl orchestrated a plan for my dad to get fired. She invited my dad for coffee one time, asked a friend to take a couple of pictures that looked intimate. The school board didn't like it. Had an entire meeting about it. My dad tried to fight with all his might. Turns out when he started acting weird, that's when he was battling with those accusations. It took only 3 photos and one girl for my dad to lose everything. One day after I won a game, I showed my medal to my dad but he didn't say anything. Next thing I know, I was running to their room. Then I saw him, blood everywhere, his body unmoving. He was gone, Cairo."

This is the most Cairo has seen Y/N vulnerable. Now she understood perfectly why Y/N wanted to help Mr. Miller. What happened to her dad was unjust. So when told the school board that Cairo's accusations were baseless, this is what she meant. What happened to Y/N's father were baseless accusations.

So, she just stood there, holding Y/N in her arms, letting her let out all the frustrations and emotions she's bottled up the entire time.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem reader #cairo sweet x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #miller's girl

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midnightsnyx · 9 months ago

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 8

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and pregnancy word count: 1.7k authors note: so marlee, stella & evan are some oc's!! i mentioned that i was gonna add a new character so that mama would have a friend. as always, HUGE thank you to @barzysbaby for her support and help on this story 💙 enjoy and thank you all for the love and support <3 we still have lots coming!

masterlist masterpost askbox requests are open🫶🏻

After graduation, you didn’t have many friends. Most of them moved away for university and the few that did stay, you quickly learned, were only friends with you because of your relationship with Mat. Once he was gone, they acted like they didn’t know you.

The whole teen pregnancy didn’t help either.

Your mom was the only one you had in the delivery room and when visiting hours were over, and you were in your room with Nora alone, that was when the loneliness kicked in. It was when you realized that you were alone, that you were responsible for an actual human being and that realization scared the crap out of you. Things only got worse throughout the night when Nora wouldn’t stop crying and you had no idea what to do. You’d been to all the classes, read the books and watched unrealistic movies but nothing could compare to what being a mom actually felt like. You were sure you would lose your mind but then shift change happened, and you met Marlee.

Marlee was your nurse for 12 hours, and in those 12 hours, she became a new friend. She was a mom to a one-year-old named Stella so she had just been through the difficult infant stage and she spent every single of her breaks that day with you, giving you advice and helping you. When her shift was over, she gave you her number and told you that if you ever needed anything, to call her. You didn’t plan on calling her, not wanting to impose but on a bad night, when your mom was working a night shift and Nora just wouldn’t stop crying, you caved and called her. She didn’t hesitate to come over and help you, assuring you that her husband was home with Stella. She spent the entire night helping you with a crying Nora who turned out to have colic.

After that, a beautiful friendship was born. Nora and Stella grew up together like two peas in a pod, and you made a great friend.

A great enough friend that when she got home from vacation and learned what was going on with Mat and Calista, you had to talk her down from going and “taking that bitch out”.

You weren’t sure if she was kidding or not.

“I need a drink,” she mumbles after you manage to talk her down. You’ve never seen her so angry so you follow her to her kitchen, politely declining a glass of wine.

“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” you explain when she raises an eyebrow at you.

“Honey, it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“True,” you agree. “I’ll still pass though.”

She shrugs and walks back to the living room, flopping on the couch and groaning.

“I do not want to go back to work tomorrow.”

You sit next to her, knocking your shoulder against hers and smiling. “You get to go help a bunch of new mama’s,” you remind her and she smiles sheepishly.

“Yeah,” she agrees.

The two of you watch a couple episodes of Yellowstone before the door opens and you hear giggles and a man trying to wrangle two kids inside. You tilt your head back and see Marlee’s husband Evan, helping Nora and Stella take their shoes off before they run into the living room and jump on the couch with you and Marlee.

“Mama!” Nora shrieks, bouncing up and down on the seat next to you. “Can I please have a sleepover with Stella?”

You pretend to think about it, even though you and Marlee had planned for Nora to stay the night anyway. She was supposed to spend the day with Mat tomorrow, but she’s refusing to see him. You tried talking to her about it, but she threw a fit and you decided not to push her. Besides, you haven’t heard from Mat since you talked the other day so you’re not even sure if he would want to see her.

“Well, I guess you can stay the night,” you finally say and she squeals and hugs you before running off with Stella. You smile at them and then turn back to Marlee who’s doing the same.

“Evan will drop them off at camp tomorrow,” she says and you nod.

“I’ll head out,” you tell her, standing up and grabbing your keys off the table. “Liana wants to see me tomorrow. Wouldn’t say why.”

Marlee frowns. “Do you think she knows?”

You hesitate, not having considered that. It’s possible Liana wants to see you in person if she knows about Calista. The thought makes your stomach go in knots. You don’t want to lie to her that you knew, but you don’t want her to be mad that you didn’t tell her.

“Maybe,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

“Alright, have a good night.”

“You too,” you reply before going to say goodbye to Nora. She’s distracted but hugs you and smiles when you tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.

“Bye mama,” she waves as you leave and you can’t help but think about how quickly she’s growing. It feels like yesterday you were sitting on your bathroom floor, staring at a positive pregnancy test and now she’s becoming her own little person. You shed a few tears on the way home, but they’re happy tears which is a change considering lately the only time you’ve cried is when Mat does something stupid, like brush off Nora’s feelings because of his girlfriend.

You’re still waiting for a call or text from him, not wanting to crack first and reach out to him. When you were dating, he would always come to you after an argument. You both hated fighting, and it was something that wasn’t common in your relationship.

But six years and a life changing secret changes a lot.

. . .

Liana insists that you meet up at your apartment, not wanting to be at the Barzal household. It makes you feel like she probably does know about Calista’s pregnancy.

She shows up at ten o’clock on the dot, bulldozing into your apartment the minute you open the door.

“Um, hey?” you say, closing the door and turning to see her standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed and scowling.

“Did you know?”

When you don’t say anything, she starts pacing.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was worried!” she cries, stopping to look at you. There are tears in her eyes and your heart breaks. You feel like all you’ve done since Mat got home and you brought Nora into their lives, is cause pain. It wasn’t right of you to keep her away, you know that but you’re only starting to realize just how hard it must have been on them.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” you say but she shakes her head.

“No, you owe me this. I didn’t get mad about Nora but you knew that Calista is pregnant and you didn’t tell me! I was worried sick about Mat but you knew the entire time.”

It was rare that Liana yelled, but you’re sure your neighbors can hear her.

“Liana-”

“No,” she snaps, cutting you off. “You should have told me.”

“Does Nadia know?” you ask quietly and Liana pauses, as if she’s considering not telling you.

Eventually, her shoulders drop. “No. Mat wants to keep it that way so don’t say anything,” she says. “Not like you have trouble keeping secrets.”

She leaves before you can reply, leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment. It was a low blow, but you know you deserved it. Liana didn’t necessarily have a right to know about Mat’s situation, but she was right about Nora.

You should have given them a chance.

. . .

“It’s not too late, you know,” your mom said. She was holding a copy of your sonogram, smiling softly. You were lucky how well your mom took the news when you went to her and told her you were pregnant. She promised to support you no matter your decision and when you told her you wanted to keep the baby, she was there every step of the way.

The only thing she didn’t agree with was your decision to keep Nora out of the Barzal’s lives. She tried to say that maybe they would be able to keep Mat from finding out, but you couldn’t take the chance. You knew that Mat would eventually find out somehow and that was exactly what you didn’t want.

“I’ve made up my mind,” you told her and looked at your own copy of the sonogram. “He can’t know.”

. . .

When you go to Marlee’s the next day, you’re surprised to find her home early. She was supposed to work until eight but it’s four in the afternoon when you go to pick Nora up and she’s sitting at the kitchen table, reading something.

“Hey,” you say and her head snaps up so quickly you hear a crack that makes you wince.

Her face is white as a ghost, and she’s gripping the papers in her hand tight enough that they’re starting to buckle.

“Where are the kids?” you ask, walking over and sitting down. She shoves the papers to the side and attempts to smile at you but it’s forced.

“Evan took them for ice cream,” she says.

“That’s nice,” you reply, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Was Nora good? Didn’t give you any trouble?”

“Of course not,” she reassures you. “Angel as always.”

You watch her shift in her chair and glance at the papers. You’re tempted to just take them so you can figure out why Marlee’s so nervous but obviously it’s private so you don’t push. You’re opening your mouth to ask her when Evan will be back so you can take Nora to see your mom when words start tumbling out of her mouth.

“She lied,” she says quickly. “She lied, and I took her file and I’m probably going to get fired but I couldn’t just let her get away with lying about something so important when it can affect-”

“Who?” you cut her off. “Who lied about what?”

Her face pales more if it’s even possible.

“Calista. She lied about being pregnant.”

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @cavill83 @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence

if you want to be added or taken of this list please let me know!! also if you asked to be added and you're not tagged it's because i couldn't find your @

#allies writing #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x y/n

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writing-rat · 1 year ago

Text

Gym Crush

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warning: Just fluff!

Summary: Sam is a gym trainer when you join her classes. Soon enough you become friends and go to Sam's house...

WC: 1180

It was your first day of going to the gym, and you were nervous. You hadn’t gone to a gym in New York before, scared of the people who would be going, but you knew you needed to get back to working out soon. So that is when you decided to look at gym classes, where you found one you liked. It was functional strength, and it was a small class with a name you recognised. Sam Carpenter. One of the Ghostface victims. You knew her from the news when you first moved in when the incidents were happening. You knew she was innocent however, the news said so with proof as well as Gale Weathers, known for the books that spurred the people that wore the Ghostface costume on. Out of intrigue (and because of the class size), you thought you would join. You were lucky you did that due to it being the last spot available and you were excited. The class size was 6 people so you were grateful for that. The first classes you would be going to would be tomorrow, so you decided to get your workout clothes sorted. Grabbing an old faded hoodie and a plain shirt, you put them in a pile then grabbed your favourite sweatpants. You were going to be prepared, and glad you could work from home once a week.

It was officially the next day, and it was an hour before your class which was at 4 pm. You made sure you had your water bottle ready as well as having the correct clothes on. You checked the train times before deciding it would be better to walk to the gym. It would be good for exercise too anyway. As you were walking, you were looking around the city since you were still new there, having moved there months ago.

Eventually walking into the gym, you showed your booking to the receptionist. “Just go down this hallway where there are the classroom gyms and it is the second right. The room is marked with Sam’s name too,” the receptionist said with a smile. “She is a good trainer. She wants to warn people who join however to not mention Ghostface or the allegations whatsoever. She will kick you out quickly if not,” the receptionist spoke, looking at her. You nodded, understanding. “Thank you,” you spoke before walking over to the room and entering, being the first one there. You were 30 minutes early after all. Sam looked up after putting some weights down and smiled.

“Hey! Y/N right?” she asked.

“Yeah! That’s me,” you confirmed, looking around. “You can put your drink in one of the cubbies. I am Sam Carpenter, your new trainer. I will be helping you to achieve your goals and also make you stronger. You worked out before?” Sam asked, seemingly done with the set-up. “Yeah, but not for a few months. I just recently moved to NYC,” you confirmed, smiling at her gently. Sam was nodding. “Good, good. Well, I can’t wait to see how you improve,” Sam spoke. You nodded, eager to please her. Little did you know what would happen in the future…

It was 8 months after you first started lessons, and you were growing a crush on the taller girl. You looked up to her, metaphorically and literally. Hell, you even befriended Sam, having been in her classes the longest and communicating with her if you would be late or would not be able to make it to the lesson. Hell, Sam even started driving you to the sessions and sometimes home. You were thankful for that as you could save money than then go on the train every day. You even talked to Sam more personally, which led to a friendship becoming her best friend. She was still a strict coach with you though during lessons.

You were currently at the Carpenter-Weather’s house, Gale cooking dinner with Tara while you were leaning against Sam, curled up after a long session and watching a movie with her. You were both watching The Addam’s Family Values, wanting a relaxing film. You felt comfortable in the strong woman’s embrace, leaning more and more into her neck. You weren’t even aware you were doing that as you were more distracted by the film. Sam meanwhile was rubbing your sides as she kissed your forehead, making you smile. You were about to speak when Tara entered the room. “Dinner’s ready!” she spoke, before going back to the kitchen. Sam groaned, stretching before she stood up, holding her hand out for you to take. You smiled, taking it as you got up, shocked that Sam kept holding it after. Your cheeks did heat up a little bit at that action but you didn’t say anything. Tara and Gale just looked at each other with a smirk for some reason that you didn’t know but you just decided to not care about it.

“Thank you, ma’am, Tara,” you spoke, nodding politely. Gale just smiled.

“Oh please, call me Gale. Ma’am makes me feel old,” Gale just chuckled in response. Nodding in shock, you smiled as you sat down next to Sam. On the plate there were burritos. You were content with that as you started to eat while thanking both Tara and Gale for cooking.

“If you want to stay over, you can!” Tara happily responded. Sam just widened her eyes and then glared at Tara, but you didn’t know why again. You decided to shrug it off again. “Sure, but where would I stay?” you asked, confused as you tilted your head confused.

“Sam’s bed?” Tara suggested. Sam nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she admitted. Gale just smiled, seeing how Tara was being a wing-woman for Sam.

That night, you had decided to stay over. That made you both go to sleep at 1 am, both of you going to her bedroom silently due to the other occupants sleeping. Sam just smiled at you before she kissed your cheek, making you even more flustered as you realised she was being more touchy. She was cuddling you, holding your hands and kissing you. “Are you flirting?” you asked quietly, shaking from nerves admittedly. Sam blinked before she thought then sighed and nodded. “Yes, I am. Is that… ok?” she asked. You just grinned and kissed her, before nodding. “Now let’s cuddle and sleep, I am tired,” you admitted. Sam just grinned and smiled before she went to the bed and was big spooning you. You just cuddled into her neck, glad your feelings were returned.

The next morning, you woke up early, confused as to why before you heard the shutter of a camera. You looked up sleepily, then saw Tara in the room holding a Polaroid and putting it on the side. “Morning, Gale is happy for you. Now you can go back to sleep,” Tara spoke quietly before leaving. You smiled, shaking your head before quickly falling back to sleep. You didn’t miss the faint kiss of your forehead though. You sighed in happiness.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #ratboy writing #ratboy writes #scream

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yurinaa-world · 10 months ago

Note

platonic dr ratio with child reader having a personality of madoka magica? the reader is a magical girl and dr ratio idk taking care of their clumsy behavior? i dont see anyone writing for platonic dr ratio and i really need a bit of comfort😭

write whenever you want or idk

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dr. Ratio platonic! x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a student reader that has the personality of Madoka Magica

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜

He doesn’t like your clumsy behaviour at all. Please watch you run around during battle; it might be worse than looking at an idiot's face. You're unpaired and should think of a plan before you jump.

A lot of the time, he’ll have to fight alongside you since you’re illiterate and can’t figure out where the enemy's weak points are.

But don't think it’s the battlefield is the only place he’s going to teach you. Count the classroom also because now you’re officially his student, and he’ll ensure you’ll become the best. He’ll make you shine like the star you meant to be! But this means you're going to have to do math…You'd rather fight than do the math!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Your teacher, Dr. Ratio, immediately stopped you from leaving his class. You already know the problem since he’s 100% going to yell and lecture you for hours because of your poor grades. “Yes si..-" You swiftly turned back but went a little fast and fell right backwards. You were finding yourself on the floor while in a bit of pain.

“Enough with this Tomfoolery.” He sighs, watching you get from the ground. “Sorry, dr. ratio " “It’s Mr. Ratio to you.” “Sorry, Mr. What seems to be the problem?” You scratch the back of your neck, a little nervous. "The math test you did yesterday. Why, no earth, did you get 8 out of 20."

You might have rushed it a little, so you get out there since you were the only one still doing the test. You didn't know it would be this bad! Now you'll have to do extra work. "really? but I tried my best!" Your words weren't convincing at all to him. "What? Are you trying your best to fail? It's as if you weren't even reading the paper and just doodling on it," he disappointed expression as he turned your test in his hands so you could look at it.

It's just a bunch of cats in black ink and nonsense answers to the questions. "From tomorrow, you're getting extra work," Dr. Ratio goes over to write in his book. You sigh, knowing this is going to happen.

"come on, it was just a couple of mistakes!"

"12 incorrect answers."

"I'll do better next! Please!" you clasped your hands together. Hoping he shows you a little mercy, but no, he will never show you any mercy. If you can learn it when he's being nice, he'll beat you instead.

"you're right; I ensure you’ll get a perfect score.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #honkai dr ratio

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year ago

Text

Whispers

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: insidious 5 spoilers, literally i think tahts it

Author’s Note: In theory this is a part 2 to blue paint but honestly could be written by itself if you just squint lol. Everyone wanted me to write more for dalton and i was at WORK people but i am here to provide a plotless fluff. An old classic style of mine 🫡Also this fic could literally be called ‘maya googles whispered synonyms’

Everyone that asked to be tagged <3 : @geeksareunique, @chaoticxbee, @snixx2088, @ellaneyt, @bespinnn,

Summary: The night you and Dalton just kind of let your relationship silently grow to avoid the horror of his situation.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You could feel sleep starting to overtake you. It was in your eyes, the drooping of your lids as you sat against the twin bed. Dalton was sitting on the ground as well, across from you. You narrowed your gaze at him, pursing your lips. You both had class in the morning. He still had blue paint stained on his face. You had leaned him over the sink and scrubbed to no avail. Finally you had both given up, conceding to his embarrassment in the morning.

The sticky heat of the day had given way for the night chills. You could feel the difference in the cracked window. The breeze had started to get to you so you threw a blanket over your shoulders.

Dalton, not wanting to fall asleep, sat across from you with a hoodie on.

“Uno.”

“No way,” you muttered. You looked at the cards in front of you, a large stack turned upwards and a yellow 7 card on top. “You just had like 15 cards. Take off your hoodie.”

“No!” Dalton exclaimed, laughing a bit.

“You’re cheating. There’s no way I missed that. I’m literally the only other person here,” you offered. He shook his head. The clock was ticking away past midnight.

“It’s late, you’re just starting to get delirious.” You shook your head, tossing your stack of cards down beside you. Usually you would never let a game go, especially one that was decently close. But you weren’t sure if you were even going to wake up to your alarm in the morning, let alone go to class.

“Am not.”

“I told you to go to bed hours ago.”

“Didn’t want you to sleepwalk on me,” you muttered.

“Astral project.”

“Whatever.” You looked up at the window. You could see the moon outside tonight in the clear sky. It had been a while since you saw the nighttime in a peaceful way. You were so used to being passed out by the time any kind of sereneness came along, or at a party trying not to pass out. It had been too long since it was just you and the night sky. And Dalton.

Your phones were laying on the bedside table, out of the way and silent. You told Dalton to call his mom but he refused. He said he could do it on his own. He was probably just overreacting, he promised you. Overreacting didn’t make someone stay up late before an 8:30 class but you decided not to mention that.

“I think I’m out D,” you muttered through a yawn. He nodded. He still looked wide awake, sans the bags under his eyes.

“I wish we had a TV in here.”

“Then we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street,” you joked. He half smiled, one of his cute little smirks. When you came to college you never thought you would admire these quieter nights the most.

“Yeah.” You stretched, trying to shake the sleep out of your eyes.

“I think I’m still gonna try to go to class tomorrow.”

“You know I don’t have a choice.” You nodded once and stood up, stretching. You felt your body expand as a satisfying calmness came over your body. Dalton grabbed the uno cards at your feet and started to put them in the box. “My last card was red by the way. You could’ve won it.”

“Rematch tomorrow,” you suggested. You put your blanket over the empty bed. It looked like it hadn’t been slept in. There was no indent of a human having been there, no one having a good night's sleep. Though it didn’t look exactly comforting, it also didn’t look unappealing to your tired mind. Dalton had given you one of his pillows. You plugged in your phone beside you and glanced over at Dalton’s side of the room. You had looked at his drawings before but never studied them.

Things seemed clearer at night.

There was a picture of his mom at the piano above his pillow. He was moving around, shuffling, getting ready for bed and doing the last things he needed to. His head obscured your view.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Your mom.” He looked at his sketch like he had forgotten it was there.

“Thanks,” he muttered. His eyes lingered for a moment. You wanted to ask if he missed her but you didn’t. Putting him in that sort of emotional position would’ve been too much for so late. “She writes music. I remember when I was a kid she would sit at the piano when she had a moment to herself. My dad was always working so I guess I thought it was her job.” He shrugged. His eyes moved away.

“She sounds like a nice lady.”

“She is. She deserves better than that guy,” he grumbled. He sat down on his bed. You were still sitting on yours. You hadn’t climbed under the covers, even though the cold was nipping at your arms. Chris’s words lingered in your brain for a bit, the prospect of staying in the same twin bed. You shook it off and went to grab the edge of the blanket.

Dalton’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to go to bed yet.

“Do you mind the night light?” he asked, voice laced with exhaustion and a little embarrassment.

“Nope. I like a little mood lighting.” You climbed under the covers. Once your head hit in the pillow it was like relief flooded through your bones. You reached up and turned off the lamp beside the bed. You could still see the outline of Dalton. His face, his hair. “I like your hair when it’s down,” you whispered. Your voice was gentle, slightly fueled by the lack of sleep. You could see him turn to look at you as he was getting under the covers. You nuzzled your head into the pillow.

“Thank you,” he muttered, awkwardly. You smiled. You liked it when he squirmed a little bit.

“I set an alarm.”

“Okay.” There was a silence. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Dalton,” you whispered. Your name hung on his lips but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead he just watched as your eyes shut into an even calmness. The contours of your face were illuminated by his night light.

He rested his cheek against the pillow.

He admitted to being potentially dangerous to you and you stayed. He felt safer with you. Like he wasn’t in this alone.

You fell asleep in 15 minutes. He could tell because your face was completely relaxed. There was no tenseness in your features, no worries about anything except getting rest. When he was positive you had drifted off he sat up, grabbing his sketchbook off the center table.

He had drawn nothing but dark memories lately. A red door with blood haunted him. A face he didn’t recognize but one that he knew, watched him sleep. After the darkness flooding his brain he was happy to think of his mom. He was happy to remember her when she was tranquil. He liked the sketches that were less cursed.

He started to sketch you.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness easily. Maybe if he was super tired the next night then he wouldn't be able to dream or astral project. Just sleep. He wouldn’t mind spending tonight sketching you with observing eyes. He drew your hair as it fell in front of your face. The way your fingers gripped the blanket. Your eyes, fluttering with dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming of. He wondered if you ever dreamt of him.

Just the thought brought a redness to his cheeks.

He grabbed his airpod to put on some music.

The room was so still.

Your blanket touching the ground. The wind from the cracked window. Your even breathing, mixing with his, the only living sounds in the space. His dried paint on the table. The light from the hallway seeping in under the door. His unpacked bag at the foot of your bed.

Your bed. That wasn’t your bed. That was an empty bed, one that would be filled by anybody.

He sketched your nose.

That could be your bed. He had nothing against that. A sleepover every night, a buddy to help protect him from the nightmares. He thought of his parents. His brother. His little sister. He was safe.

He turned the focus onto your closed eyes. He was listening to some indie rock or something, whatever he had playing from earlier. He wondered what kind of music you listened to.

You moved. You hummed under your breath, eyes fluttering open. It hadn’t been that long since you fell asleep, maybe only an hour. It was two in the morning.

You forced your eyes open. Dalton was still awake, sitting against the wall.

“Still can’t sleep?” you whispered. The sleep remained in your eyes.

“Not sure where I’ll float too.” You nodded. You slowly sat up, keeping your blanket around your shoulder. “What’re you doing?” he whispered. Speaking any louder would break the muffled moment.

You shuffled over to his side of the room. He looked up at you, shielding his sketchbook. You barely noticed it. You stood at the side of his bed. There was a beat where neither of you moved. You nodded towards the bed.

“Lay down.” He squinted, unsure of what your intentions were. He put the sketchbook on the side of the bed, onto the floor. He had it facing the ground so you wouldn’t see your face. He couldn’t let you know how he perceived you quite yet.

He did as he was told. When he was comfortable you moved his blanket aside and got under the covers. You put your blanket over his so you had double the warmth.

Dalton froze.

Did he put his hand on you? Did he just let you be? He had to touch you, there was no way he could sleep here, stiff as a board, all night.

“I don’t have cooties D,” you whispered. You easily got comfortable beside him. Your eyes stayed open as you looked at him, straight ahead. “You can touch me,” you said, even lower, so much so that your voice almost gave out. “If this is okay.”

“It’s okay,” he promised. You smiled sleepily.

He put his hand on your side and you pushed yourself closer to him. You took the initiative and placed your hand over his waist. He moved so that you could nuzzle yourself into his chest. He tried not to breathe too heavily but he was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Sleep,” you breathed. “I’ll keep you grounded.”

His breath hitched. He finally closed his eyes.

He fell asleep quickly with you in his arms. He remained in his spot the whole night, the first time in a week.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious the red door spoilers

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brains4brawn · 1 year ago

Text

Summer Camp, Football

I was so excited for science camp, it would be my last year as I would start college in the fall. The camp was huge and divided into four major sections; Arts, Sports, Science, and Space with Sports taking up most of the land. The different parts of the camp didn't mingle too much but every Fourth of July there was a gigantic celebration.

It was great seeing old friends and getting to bunk in one of the smaller Sci cabins. My best friend Jeff was assigned with me and we went over the catalog to see what classes there were for the seniors.

In the distance we could hear the rowdy football jocks. It was a trade off, the smaller more private cabins were on the outer perimeter close to the sports section, specifically the footballers. Jeff and I just ignored them while we made our schedules for the following 8 weeks. I started to unpack my huge suitcase into the dresser beside my bed, in the second drawer was a small football key chain with the camp logo emblazoned on it. I picked it up and got a slight static shock, I showed it to Jeff and he thought that some meathead must have forgotten it. We both laughed and well both got slightly turned on at the thought of one of those jocks sleeping in our beds.

The day went by quickly and soon we had our introduction dinner and met everyone in Sci. Soon though I was in bed, tired but excited for tomorrow.

Tomorrow came to early, I awoke at 4:19 am with tons of energy! It was like lightning had struck, i bounced out of bed and began to quietly pace hoping not to disturb Jeff. I decided to go outside where I heard grunting in the distance. I followed the sounds to a flat track woven in-between some cabins where some big jocks were doing an early morning run. One of them saw me and motioned to me, for some reason i went closer. This guy was stunning, he was shirtless and showing off his rock hard body. I felt my penis begin to tent as i drew close, He asked why I was here and I made up some story that my dad always takes me on early jogs and if i could join them. He looked me over and then said that any bro is welcome to join.

I got back around 6:30 my body sore but energized. Jeff was still softly snoring on his side of the cabin. I quickly went to the bathroom and took a shower. Jeff was just getting out of bed when I re-entered the bedroom, he rushed past me into the vacant bathroom, while he was getting ready I still was overcome with energy. I went to a spot on the wood floor and proceeded to do some pushups until I heard the shower turn off.

The next week flew by as I developed a new morning routine. Every morning I'd be up at 4am and jogging with Seth and his bros. They were all really welcoming, and I was having a great time just not thinking. Heck, Jeff even commented one day that I was looking healthier. It felt weird to keep this from my best friend but I know he wouldn't understand. Even though the guys here were awesome, Jeff had been bullied practically his entire life back home.

Afternoons soon became torture as my Sci projects were becoming harder to focus on. My body was brimming with energy and I couldn't wait for the two hours of free time before dinner. Jeff and I used to sit and watch the hunky Jocks play their different sports during the afternoon breaks but now I had the urge to join them. I feel bad for ditching Jeff but now I get in the water and go for a swim or grab some boots and go on a short hike.

Its been almost four weeks since camp started and I haven't felt this good in years. Every morning I get up and run with my bro Seth and the gang, then go and work out at the sports camp gym. By the time I get back to the cabin to shower and change Jeff is already gone. I feel bad for the little bro, he's obviously gay and a guy with my bod can't be easy to room with. It still kinda sucks that I'm in a Sci cabin but at least I'm not far from the rest of the footballers. After morning PT I go to strategy sessions and game history. Then the afternoon is spent playing touch footie with the guys.

The Fourth of July was a blast. All the different sports teams came together and we had scrimmages all day. The Sci Nerds showed off some dope looking robots and the Space Dweebs launched rockets. Later on the Theater Dorks put on a talent show, then came a cookout dinner BBQ. Lastly came the fireworks. As the sky was bombarded by the light, I noticed Jeff off by himself. Not wanting anyone to be alone I picked up my things and moved closer to him. Sitting next to him it was hard not to notice just how much smaller my cabin bro was.

At first he tried to ignore me, but fuck i am not someone who is ignored easily. I scooted my perfect ass up beside him and he told me to go away. I just sat there letting him get used to my presence, I felt an odd need to be protective of the little guy. I heard a sigh and then in a whisper Jeff asked if I knew how perfect I was.

Well duh, I am tall proportionally muscular and let's face it, any guy would be lucky to have a piece of me. Something awoke inside me, feelings that I knew were there but didn't want to admit. I was Mr. Popular, big man on campus, life of the party, but somewhere in the last month I had devolved a crush on this lonely nerd.

It was after midnight when Jeff and I got back to the cabin. I woke up with the little nerd spooning against my bod. Fuck it felt good having him next to me, my morning wood pressed against his back. Jeff woke up slowly and I felt the goosebumps as he realized his situation. His head tilted up and he looked into my eyes, I took the chance and kissed him gently..... which quickly turned into a passionate make out session... which....well, let's say the little nerd is one of the best cocksuckers ever. The moment I erupted into his mouth a slight bit of static electricity passed from me into him.

From then on we became inseparable. Jeff joined me for morning PT and came to support the team in our mock tournament with our sister campgrounds, while I tried my best to support his Sci shit. By the time we left, Jeff had put on some decent size and was getting along with all my bros on the team.

Epilogue:

Two men stand in the tiny cabin, marveling at how they'd spent so much time in such a cramped space. The taller man had just finished his second season in the NFL while his shorter husband had become the CEO of his own successful startup. The men stood there, reminiscing on how they met the summer before college and how they couldn't imagine life without each other. Jeff gave his husband's hand a squeeze before the two of them started their summers as owners of this special place.

#nerdtojock #reality change #male muscle growth #mentaltf #muscletf #personality change #muscle god #Ai art #Muscle4all #tf

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chiliechicken · 4 months ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 𝐊.┊★ dude, i'm just not into you! Denki Kaminari x GN!Reader, Angst, OOC, Ex!Denki, Cliffhanger(?) oops

PT 1 — you're seriously crying?

Crying in your dorm room isn't what you expected to do after you broke up with that dweeb you used to call the love of your life. You spent hours sobbing into your pillow that you completely forgot to do your homework, better yet eat dinner with your classmates. They felt awful for you ever since they heard about the breakup. In fact, nearly every second year heard about the breakup.

The news spread like wildfire all throughout your grade and you couldn't feel anymore embarrassed about all of this. Students gossiped like there's no tomorrow, making sure that they and their mommas knew all the drama that surrounded yours and Denki's name.

You don't understand what's so interesting about your situation. I mean, it was just a simple breakup, it wasn't like two celebrities got a divorce after the one found out the other cheated. Even then, that news wouldn't spread this quickly in U.A.

You groaned and rolled over in your bed, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. You turned your phone on and looked at the time, it read 8:45 P.M. "Goddamnit, shut up..." You sighed and stared at the screen as you watched the notifications continue to pour in. The wall of your school's official group was filled with the news. You furrowed your brows and turned off your phone before throwing it on the other side of your bed.

So what's so entertaining about all of this? Well for one, you and Denki have been dating since freshman year and have been well-known to be a power couple during your first year.

While Denki was friendly, open and talkative, joyful, flirty and funny, you were reserved, cold, usually preferred to be alone, and a little violent. Sometimes you'd be lashing out at the smallest of things, hitting anyone who even dares to look your way on a bad day. Even in your friend group everyone described you as timebomb, waiting to blow up at the perfect opportunity, or a balloon held over a sharp pin beside a war veteran. You were always ready to cause chaos and disaster.

Your presence was well-known as the 'violent kid that could kill you with one look alone', a reputation that rivaled Katsuki Bakugo's own aggressive nature. You were the complete opposite of Denki, so it surprised people when the goofy-goober, high-energy (literally and figuratively), good boy of the prestigious Class-A managed to pull you out of your little box and get you to open up, completely giving your personality a full-on makeover when you two began dating.

People often call the two of you the embodiment of opposites attract. The sun and the moon, the black cat and the golden retriever, the flower and its thorn, all that cheesy stuff you would rather rip your skin off than associate yourself with.

Your phone vibrates as your friends and classmates bombard your messenger with texts asking how you were doing, what's the tea, did you want to get drunk, why is Denki outside your Heights Alliance building—

"[Name]? Someone's looking for you."

Ugh, seriously?

You groaned audibly and threw a stuffed toy at your door, urging your classmate to leave you alone. She didn't listen since she continued to knock and even tried to turn the handle, yelling for you to come outside, "Come on! I know you don't want to go but he won't leave us alone! It's getting annoying and it's movie night."

What the hell could he want, now? You stood up from your bed, bit groggily, and hesitantly opened your door. You came face to face with your classmate who already had an irritated look on her face, as if the irritation in her voice wasn't enough.

You furiously wiped away your tears as you followed her back down to the common area. Thinking possible scenarios and outcomes wasn't really helping you calm down in this situation. In fact, you were feeling even more anxious, your footsteps thudding against the floor as you headed towards the couches. You took a deep breath and pushed through your classmates to get to Denki.

"Outside." You seethed out while gritting your teeth and grabbed his arm firmly with your fingers digging into his skin. Denki winced, stumbling on his own two feet as he followed you out of the building. Once out of view from your nosy classmates, you turned to look at him, your expression that of frustration. You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to speak up before you lose your patience and rip him to shreds.

Denki let out a deep breath, one he didn't realize he was holding, and looked up to meet your gaze, determined. Albeit he flinched when your eyes were practically burning into his own.

"Take me back—?" You smacked the shit outta him as soon as he opened his mouth to say those words. Wincing and yelps of pain were heard from inside the building.

You glared at Denki, your palm stinging with pain as it began to warm up. You honestly couldn't believe the nerve of this.. boy. After the shit he put you through, he had the audacity to ask for your hand again?

"W-What the hell's that for?!" Denki cried out as he held his red cheek. God, that stung his feelings more than his skin. He frowned and stepped closer to you as he reached his hand out to hold yours, "You didn't have to do that! W-We can just talk, y'know?"

"I don't wanna hear anything from you." You snapped back almost immediately and leaned away from him, "Why are you expecting me to listen to your bum-ass words when you didn't even spend a second to listen to mine? I gave you so many chances to help me mend our relationship, but you never took the time to do so!"

You ran your hand across your face frustratedly, your other hand perched on your hip as you narrowed your eyes. "Just fuck off, Kaminari. I'm so done with you."

You turned around and began to walk away from him, trying to calm yourself down.

Denki sighed. He expected you to get mad, yeah, but you were really leaving him? He thought you loved him as much as he loved you. With a huff, he caught up with you and blocked your way. "I'm never gonna give you up."

You scoffed and pushed him away, "Haha, that is so funny. I am so hysterically laughing right now." before continuing to walk. He groaned in frustration and grabbed your arm, pulling you pack towards him. "I'm serious! I'm never gonna give you up no matter how much you hate me."

Denki looked at you as his gaze softened, "Please, [Name]. We've come so far together, why stop now?"

He gripped your arm tighter and momentarily looked away, trying to find the right words to say without possibly angering you. "I know I was kinda a d-dick in our relationship, but I promise you I'll do better! Give me a chance, please. You're my first real relationship, I-I can't lose you!"

You opened your mouth to speak, only to close it back again. What do you even say to this fool? You already said what you wanted to say to him earlier, you're satisfied with how things turned out. Right? You averted your eyes and clicked your tongue; fuck, you're really doubting your decision now?

With a sigh, you looked back at him and furrowed your brows. "What do you want from me?" You asked, your tone genuine. Denki raised a brow and tilted his head to the side, "I mean—isn't it obvious? I want you."

"No, idiot! What do you really want from me? Why do you want to chase me so bad? What is it about me that's so interesting that makes me so worth it?"

Denki frowned further and pulled you closer, "That's my answer. You. I want you." He spoke before he loosened his grip on you slightly, "It's as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less, babe."

"Don't call me that." You sneered at him before pulling away, crossing your arms over your chest. "Go find someone else to fuck over. I can't believe I wasted half a year on someone like you." You stormed past him, bumping your shoulder against his, as you went back inside the dormitory.

"No, wait! Baby, please—!" He tried to call out to you, but you already disappeared behind those large doors.

Denki stood there, motionless for a moment as he processed what just happened. He sighed in frustration, running his fingers through his hair as he stared at the ground. "Fuck." He breathed out and walked back to the Class-A Heights Alliance, utterly miserable and defeated.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

Wanna know how he spent his night? Same as you, crying himself to sleep until he passed out on a pile of half-eaten chip bags with a cheesy romance movie playing in the background.

Match-made in heaven!

★┊gyehehehehehehhhhh HAUAJHA I'm going insane, I don't have any motivation to write at all

This one isn't as long as the first part, why? I'm not in the right mood to write angst MEANING I'm feeling really happy today since I'm all alone right now

Which reminds me that I'm lonely

I need a girlfriend

#mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #denki x reader #mha denki #bnha denki #denki kaminari #x reader #xreader #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha angst #angst #ooc

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girlsneedff · 7 months ago

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Tetris player!Chosou x f!reader (NSFW!!)

Minors and ageless bios please dni

Mating press, slight Tetris! babble, established relationship, breeding (slightly)

Author’s yap: ok ok so I basically sat and watched this Tetris tournament on TikTok and I got inspired… possibly one of the more unserious things I’ve written, but that’s ok!!

————

Tetris! is boring as shit.

How could someone sit there in front of a rickety old 8-bit, shitty quality game and have fun for hours? It was stupid.

Well, that was before you started dating an 8-time Tetris! champion. Now the game is absolutely amazing- a Heaven sent.

Chosou Kamo’s a man of few words. Even when he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out (you were in the same humanities class), it went like this:

“Hello, we- ………date?” The blush saturated his cheeks as he twiddled his thumbs while remaining eye contact.

Oh, those thumbs.

He’s cute, and you’ve been ogling him a bit (a lot) during class, so of course you took up his offer, regardless of how ill-planned it was.

Next thing you know, you’re at his place- always watching him prep for a tournament he’s competing in. Whether it’s an actual controller or on his pc- he practices for hours- at least 3. His hair is in his usual messy pigtails as he chews the inside of this right cheek.

Next Tetrimino is an O- he moves that to the left-most end of the field. Then it’s a T- he flipped it so it fits nicely into this little slot he had created with some past pieces. He gets an I- his face lights up as he gleefully moves it to the right-most end of the field, sliding it into the perfect position and boom: Tetris!

A line of 4 disappears with this completion, and the game continues, his fingers moving at rapid paces to keep up. His eyes flicker to you, to make sure that you saw his victory, then back to the game.

You must admit, when he first told you he was a multi-time Tetris! winner, you damn near laughed at him. You wouldn’t do it in his face- but you definitely have scoffed thinking about it before.

“Hi- oh yea this is my boyfriend. Oh what does he do? Well he’s a Tetris! Champion!”

Your peers would look at you sideways.

But you couldn’t give a rat’s ass what they think now. You’d scream it from the rooftops actually. He’s made you scream a lot more embarrassing things than that.

You owe Tetris! your sex life. Truly. In your vows, you might give Tetris! a shoutout. Because the way that this man knows how to work his fingers- it’s unnatural. How he works his everything- jeez he’s Heaven sent.

————

“Baby, I need an opponent.”

You sit up to look at your boyfriend. He’s sitting in his gaming chair, still working away at Tetris, while you lie on his bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Why don’t you call up your frien-”

“Play with me.”

You freeze. This was the first time he’s ever brought this up. You’ve been coming over for 4 months now, and never once had he asked you to play with him.

“You know I don’t really know anything about Tetris!, right?”

“I’ll teach you. I just need to practice for tomorrow against somebody. It will help get me in the mood.”

It sure as hell did help him get in a mood. Sitting in his lap, he hands you his other console, makes sure you’re ok, and presses play. His console rests on your lap, while you hold yours up a bit.

…

And he lost.

…

Because how the flying fuck did you two end up on the bed?

Lock down: When a Tetrimino is put into a place where it’s no longer moveable. Kinda like how you are now.

Choso supports himself on your bent thighs with knees damn-near touching your ears as he towers above you, sweaty strands of hair still sticking to his face as he keeps eye contact. There’s no possible way you could escape this- even if you wanted to.

Then, he does his next signature move: Hard Drop. When a player drops a Tetrimino right into Lock Down from its starting position- no alterations.

Well, save for the fact that he had you line him up with your cunt, he’s by the book.

Who knew that Tetris! players would be so good at multitasking? With every stroke, he plays with your clit like he’s moving pieces- this Tetris!-junkie really doesn’t quit. He keeps it at a steady pace, steady force. All the way to left field- down. In the middle- he lets it wait for a little bit before he moves it to the right and down. It’s dizzying.

The way his dick is stretching you, and how his lithe fingers work to bully your clit into submission, you felt like you were levitating.

Then he starts fucking drawing the Tetriminos on your clit. You swear you’re actually in Heaven, the angels singing choruses of Tetris! hymns and praises while perched upon fluffy white cumulus clouds. Your mouth is in a permanent “O” position.

He definitely felt you clench around him- he lets out a breathy moan- louder than the noises he was already making. He has an airy type of grit in his voice every time you have sex- one of the many things that you love about this man.

Chosou leans close to your right ear, deepening the position as he speaks:

“Z, I, L, O, J…”

Before you know it you’re creaming- babbling random nonsense that you definitely don’t remember, but definitely know it was embarrassing. Cumming from him saying letters? How pathetic. But you don’t give a goddamn fuck.

You dig your fingers into your own flesh, since you were propping yourself up properly.

Chosou kisses your cheek and your neck as he continues to fuck you through your high.

He finally succumbs to his own desire, pumping everything that he has inside you with a soft, yet kind of whiny moan.

From that moment onwards, you vowed that you will never disrespect Tetris! again.

#jjk #choso x black y/n #choso my beloved #smut #fluff #jjk x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader

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s-vtoru · 1 year ago

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don't be late. | miguel o'hara x reader

ᡴꪫ synopsis: miguel needs your help in babysitting his daughter while he's at work. he tells you not to be late but you do just the opposite. pairing: singlefather!miguel x fem!reader cw: smut, fluff, petnames (baby, princess, etc), sex, degradation, praise, fingering, spanking. word count: 4.5k

you were just arriving home from college, pulling into the driveway of your home and parking just outside the garage. getting out of the car and locking it with your car keys, you went up to your front door and unlocked it, walking inside to your mom talking to someone in the kitchen. you recognized that deep, slightly raspy voice.. and that accent—miguel o’hara. he was the single father that lived right next door to you that your parents knew well. hearing the door opening caught their attention, making miguel and your mother peep their heads from the kitchen's entryway, your eyes only meeting miguel’s. he sent a small smile your way that sent heat soaring through your body. he was a handsome, fit, and tall man. he also had a daughter, about 8 years old, that you would often babysit while he was away at work.

walking into the kitchen, you greeted your mother, “hey ma.” you embraced her tightly. “how was your day?” she asked, rubbing your back before you pulled away. “tiring, as always,” you smiled, turning around to greet miguel next. “i thought you’d forget all about me,” he smiled at you fiercely, sending a shiver down your spine. you laughed softly before giving him a brief hug, “of course not mr. o’hara,” he chuckled directly in your ear as he returned the embrace firmly. “good, i’d be hurt if you did,” before you pulled away, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear raspily, “but i’d make sure you could never forget me, princess.”

you shivered at the name, your legs almost barely giving out. heat rushed to your cheeks almost instantly as he pulled away, rendering you speechless. “oh, y/n, i forgot to mention, miguel needed someone to watch gabriela tomorrow while he’s working and i told him you’d be available. you’ll head your way over around 5pm. will that be alright?” your mothers words knocked you back into reality, clearing your throat and turning around to face her. “oh— yeah..! i don’t have classes tomorrow so that’s fine. it's been a while since i’ve seen her too so it’ll be fun.”

you smiled softly, your mom nodding at your response. miguel looked at you fondly, his arms crossed over his chest. “well, i better get going. i’ve got to get gabriela ready for practice. thank you for letting me stop by,” he smiled at your mother, giving her a brief hug. “oh of course, you’re welcome here any time,” she responded with a softened grin. he nodded, turning over to you. “i’ll see you tomorrow y/n, it was nice seeing you even if it was short lived.” he embraced you again, “it was nice seeing you too mr. o’hara,” you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear, making your own breath hitch. “no llegues tarde, de acuerdo?” you nodded slowly, “s– si,” he pulled away from the hug, smiling at you as if nothing had happened. that's when he took his leave, leaving you staring at the door in which he left through. you were nervous for tomorrow but you were also excited for what was to come.

next thing you know, tomorrow rolls around. you were exhausted, dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night. you pulled an all nighter watching your favorite tv series and didn’t realize how fast the time went by. it was 8am, you decided it was best to get a few hours of sleep, at least, before going to miguel’s house. you even put an alarm on your phone so that you’d be able to wake up on time. however, by a few hours, it was already 4pm by the time you woke up. you yawned tiredly, stretching out your limbs and rubbing your eyes as you heard your alarm going off.

when you went to turn it off, you saw the time and jumped up almost immediately. you had an hour, not even, to get ready. you were scurrying around the house, brushing your teeth, getting ready—in which you threw on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt—doing your hair and whatnot; it was 5:10pm by the time you were done. good thing he lived just next door. you hurried over to your neighbors house, giving the door a firm 3 knocks. not even a minute went by once he opened the door, coming face to face with a scowling miguel o’hara. you gulped, already having your reasoning ready. “mr. o’hara i’m very sorry i–” he stopped you with his finger on your lips, shutting you up before you could finish. “nice of you to show up. i’m already 10 minutes late when i specifically asked you to be here on time," miguel sighed, massaging his temples. "i’ll deal with you once i get back.”

you were in deep shit now. although, while he was talking to you, you relished the way he looked in formal attire. your utterly handsome neighbor in a suit, the sleeves hugging his muscles perfectly — you couldn’t stop staring at him. he watched as you gawked at him in awe, making him sigh. he tilted your head up by your chin to look at him, making your eyes meet his. he was close, dangerously close. “i suggest you listen and look at me when i’m talking to you. i’m heading out, take care of gabriela,” and with that, he let go of your chin and got into his car, driving away.

you just stood there like an idiot, stuck in a daze before gabriela peeked her head out from the doorway. “y/n, y/n!” you heard her sweet voice, turning around with a big smile as she hugged you, acting completely normal like you weren’t freaking out on the inside. “hi gabriela! c’mon let’s go play, yeah?” she nodded quickly, pulling back from the embrace and jumping from the excitement. “mhm mhm! i’ll show you my new toys!” she spoke happily, making your heart melt. you went upstairs with her, sitting on the floor of her bedroom as she showed off the different dolls she got. all you were thinking about was what miguel said earlier, i’ll deal with you once i get back. you were in some serious trouble.

you and gabriela have been playing for a couple hours now, she seemed to have an endless amount of energy no matter what you guys did. it was 8pm already, so i decided to doordash some mcdonalds for you and her since she did say she was hungry. while waiting for the food to arrive, you sent her to take a bath, leaving a cute pair of soccer pajamas on her bed for her afterwards. after the food came and you guys ate and such, she brushed her teeth and you tucked her into bed, turning on her nightlight and reading her a bedtime story before she drifted off to sleep.

you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, leaving the room as quiet as possible. you went downstairs and slumped down on the couch, exhaling tiredly. today was a long day already, and just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard the fumbling of keys in the lock and the door opening. this is it, you thought, knowing full well what was in store for you.

“welcome home mr. o’hara,” you spoke softly, sitting up and speaking as if everything was just fine. “did you guys have fun?” his voice was tired, but cold. the sound of it made you shiver. “y- yeah! we had a lot of fun, actually,” he hummed, taking off his coat and loosening his tie, which you found very attractive. he walked over to you, taking a seat beside you on the couch. “so, tell me why you were late this afternoon.” you cleared your throat, fiddling with your fingers as he asked you that question. “well, you see– i .. have a good reason.”

he raised an eyebrow at you. “oh, really? indulge me,” you went quiet for a moment before speaking up, your eyes not meeting his at all. “well .. i was watching a show last night and didn’t realize how fast time went by and next thing i knew, it was 8am,” you paused. miguel urged you to continue, “go on.” you spoke once again, “so, i set an alarm for 2:50pm and fell asleep, but didn’t wake up until 4pm. which ended up with me being late," when you went to look at him finally, he looked at you blankly. it was as if he was judging you behind those dark, red eyes of his. “so you're telling me, the reason you were late was because you stood up all night watching some tv show?” you nodded slowly, looking away again. he rubbed his temple, uttering a ‘dios mío’ under his breath.

he turned his body towards you completely, taking hold of your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “do you remember what i said to you before i left?” he gazed into your eyes, already growing weak with the way he held eye contact so intently. “..yes.” he hummed again, “good. ‘cause i meant it.” and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours roughly, tongue prodding at your lips to allow him entry, in which you allowed instantly. his free hand was placed on your thigh, gripping your plush skin tightly, making his veins pulse. the feeling of him kissing you made you whimper, your hands on his muscular chest as he deepened the kiss, leaning in to taste more of you. he pulled you onto his lap, tongue meeting yours as he explored the depths of your mouth. “ .. mierda,” he mumbled in the kiss, his hands gripping your hips, trailing down to the plush of your ass and squeezing the flesh under his palms. planting a harsh smack against the covered skin, making you moan softly into his mouth, “m–mr. o’hara..” he pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you both.

“miguel. call me miguel,” you could feel his bulge pressing against your clothed cunt, your face reddening with each passing moment. you subconsciously grinded against the tent in his pants, causing him to groan lowly. “who gave you permission to do that? una chica tan codiciosa,” his lips attacked your neck, sucking on your soft skin and leaving behind bites and bruises. the contact made you whine, obviously you wanted more, it was so very obvious with the way you rocked your hips back and forth.

“fuck, look at you. so needy after being the cause of me being late to work and missing my meeting. what makes you think i’ll ignore your disobedience? ” his voice was dark, serious, the sound of it almost making you lose it then and there. he clicked his tongue, “on your knees.” his tone deepened, making him more intimidating than he already was. yet, you did just as he instructed without putting up a fight. you kneeled in front of him, having a good view of his erection poking through his slacks. miguel unzipped his pants, freeing his girth from the confines of his boxers. “go ahead. i’m sure you know what to do, angel,” you nodded, almost foaming at the mouth with his cock standing up right in front of your face.

wrapping your hands around his shaft, giving the tip little cat licks before taking him into your mouth, stroking what you couldn’t take. “there you go, al igual que esa preciosa,” he felt so big in your mouth, running your tongue along the multiple veins that decorated his length. you tried to take him deeper, gagging and choking on his cock as you did so. miguel chuckled at your noises, placing his hand on top of your head, leaning his head back at the pleasure you were giving him. pants and low groans left his lips, holding back the urge to fuck up into your mouth.

at this point, you went even further, taking his entire cock down your throat completely, feeling his tip touch the back of your esophagus. your eyes began to water, a single tear running down your cheek. miguel’s cock twitched inside of your mouth, feeling himself grow closer by each passing second. “i’m close baby, gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours. bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you querida?” his tone deepened, voice now much more raspy. you just nodded, replying with a simple hum that sent a vibration up his shaft, causing him to groan. this view he got was immaculate to him, taking a mental picture so that he’d never forget what you looked like sucking his cock so eagerly. his teeth gritted, beginning to use your mouth, his patience running thin. as you hollowed out your cheeks, using your tongue for more stimulation, that's when he lost it. “fuck i-i’m cumming–” and with that, thick ropes of his seed filled your warm mouth, ripping a hoarse moan from him. you savored the way he sounded and tasted, pulling his girth out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop’.

your cheeks were puffed out, miguel looking down at you with an amused expression, a devious smirk spreading across his lips. “open your mouth pretty girl, don’t let a single drop go to waste.” you did just that—opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, resulting in him letting out what almost sounded like a growl. after showing him, you swallowed the substance, immediately getting a salty aftertaste. “c’mon, on your back baby. i gotta taste you,” you crawled up onto the couch and laid on your back, miguel placing a decorative pillow under your head for support. he pulled off your shirt and leggings, getting the perfect view of your drenched panties and lace bra, licking his lips at the view he had in front of him.

he started off by leaving chaste kisses on your neck, to your chest, to your stomach, and finally down to your thighs. he bit and sucked on the plush of your inner thigh, leaving dark purple marks across your skin. now was time for the real deal—it was about damn time he had the opportunity to taste you. he’s waited so long for this moment, he’s even dreamed about this very day. he licked a stripe directly up your clothed clit, already tasting the slick that coated your cunt. at this point he was growing impatient, ripping your panties apart and throwing them to the side.

he dined on your pussy, tongue sucking and flicking against your clit, whimpers and moans leaving you. you grew desperate, your hand tugging at his hair, watching him eat you out like it was his last meal. he grew feral, face buried in your wet cunt as he savored the way you tasted. the sweet taste was intoxicating, making him want more and more. his hands gripped your thighs that he pulled over his shoulders, fingers digging into your skin. “sabes tan jodidamente buena,” he groaned, growls leaving his lips as he went to town on your pussy. you couldn’t stop the moans that left your mouth, hips bucking up into his mouth. “f-fuck miguel.. feels ‘s good..” you whimpered out, your legs beginning to shake from the way his tongue danced along your bundle of nerves.

he loved the way you said his name, his face practically drenched in your juices. at this rate, you were already feeling that knot in the pit of your stomach loosen, looking down at him with teary, lustful eyes as his own met yours, not breaking the contact. he could feel you twitch against his mouth, deciding to stick two digits into you, thrusting them rapidly as he curled them. your moans slowly grew louder, causing miguel to slap your thigh. “callate slut. you don't wanna wake up gabriela now, do you?” he spoke in a demanding tone, giving him a small nod in response. you covered your mouth with your palm, barely quieting your moans no matter hard you tried. “i-i’m–”

“close?”

he interrupted, knowing full well how close you were with the way you twitched around his fingers. that only made him fasten the pace of his tongue and his digits. you loved how his fingers felt, they were much thicker and reached places you couldn't reach on your own. the sensational feeling sent a shock up your body, eyes rolling to the back of your head at how stimulated he made you feel. he focused especially on your clit, sucking harshly on the flesh.

your back arched almost immediately, feeling that knot snap instantly. “i-i’m c-cu–mming–!” with one last pump of his fingers, you released all over his digits as well as his mouth, making a mess on the couch. “atta girl,” his tongue kept moving, giving you an extra dose of stimulant. as you slowly came down from your high, chest heaving and panting quickly, miguel gave your cunt a gentle kiss before pulling back. “ay, mami, what a mess you’ve made,” he licked his lips, his face covered in your slick. you grew embarrassed, face growing a dark shade of red as he spoke those words, eyes avoiding his for a brief moment. “don’t hide from me, love. you did such a good job for me, princess. let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah? we’ll clean this up later,” your eyes met with his again, the praise making you much less embarrassed and more proud in a way. he picked you up from the couch, your legs and arms wrapping around him as he supported your weight.

miguel’s lips met yours hungrily as he walked to his bedroom, low groans eliciting from his throat, leaving yours shortly after to suck and mark up your neck like a precious art piece. once walking into his room, he placed you down onto the soft mattress, head being supported by a pillow once again. he swiftly removed his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the room.

your eyes were glued on his body, it was almost as if he was sculpted by the gods, his huge form hovering over you like a hungry beast. “you look so beautiful, mi amor," he pecked your lips before moving down to your chest, unclipping your bra and setting it aside, admiring your breasts and hardened nipples. his mouth wrapped around your left breast, nibbling on the perked bud, tongue using the same flicking technique he used while eating you out, the giving the same attention to your other breast. he continued the kisses down to the valley of your breasts and to your stomach, admiring every single part of your body. you were so perfect, more than he could even dream of.

although, you were the one growing impatient this time. you pulled him closer, legs wrapping around his waist. “please, miguel.. hurry..” you practically begged, wanting to feel him deep inside you, more than words can describe. “you sound so pretty when you beg, mami,” miguel leaned down to your ear, his warm breath sending a familiar shiver down your spine, “tell me how much you want it.” you could practically hear him smiling, deciding to hold his shaft in your hands as you rubbed the tip up and down your slit. “please miguel.. need to feel you deep inside.. need you,” every time you said his name it drove him wild, making him want to plunge his cock inside of you then and there.

“good girl,” your begging made him lose all sense of restraint, grinding his shaft against your swollen clit, canines threatening to bare into your neck. he had this animalistic glare in his eyes, he wanted you so badly it was starting to hurt. “fuck, i can’t wait anymore. i’ll be gentle, let me know if it hurts okay?” you nodded once more, pulling him closer than before. he lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside you. after taking a good look at him, you realized how big he really was.

his cock could split you in two, but you didn’t mind. as much as you worried it wouldn’t fit, you knew he’d make it fit. “joder, you’re so tight..” he moaned lowly, his forehead pressing against yours as he pushed himself in deeper. you winced at the sudden stretch, already feeling full with just the tip inside you. “just a little more,” he pinned your hands above your head, intertwining his fingers with yours, forcing himself inside you in one quick motion. you let out a loud whimper, forgetting about a sleeping gabriela just upstairs.

miguel shushed you, placing a soft kiss on your lips as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. “you’re gripping me so tight, baby. want me that badly, huh?” he spoke just centimeters away from your lips, knowing full well how much you liked it when he spoke to you like that from the way you clenched around him. “need you so bad.. pleaase..” you whined desperately, fucking yourself slowly on his cock. that action alone made him go animalistic, proving to him just how desperate you were for him. “then you'll have me, mami,” he pulled out and thrusted back inside of you, tears welling up in your eyes from how full you felt. his pace started off slow, his cock going in and out of you being such a satisfying sight.

you were already feeling so good, still being sensitive from your previous activities with miguel. his pace started to speed up, his hips snapping against your ass as his tip brushed against your g-spot in a single thrust. his eyes were stuck on yours, never looking away from you. moans flooded out of your mouth like a river, the expression on your face growing lewd as your mouth was left agape. miguel’s thrusts were rapid and rough, clearing showing how much he wanted you and waited for this.

his hair stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face as he moaned aloud. “f-fuuck, right there..!” you whimpered out, nails clawing at his back, in which he didn’t mind at all. “hm? aquí mismo?” he continuously pistoned his cock against your sweet spot, his pace never slowing down. his hips were erratic, fucking into you like his life depended on it. you felt so good wrapped him so nicely, his cock already shaping your insides to fit him and only him. feeling him abuse that same sensitive spot over and over again had your eyes rolling to the back of your head again, making you see stars with the way he was pounding you to heaven and back.

he had you drooling, eyebrows narrowed and filled with nothing but lust. miguel’s wine red eyes looked into yours with such passion, your warm walls squeezing him tightly, the expression on your face turning him on even more. “you look all fucked out already, pobre bebé,” his accent sent you in a spiral, the way he would speak to you, it turned you on to no end—you wanted this moment to last forever. miguel pressed his lips onto yours, devouring you completely, moaning into your mouth at the sensation.

you could feel that same knot in your stomach begin to form again, heat radiating throughout your entire body. “miguel.. miguel..!” you sang his name like an anthem, back arching off the bed as you felt your climax building up. “say my name baby, let me hear it,” he didn’t care anymore, he felt his own climax building up too, wanting nothing more than to fill you up a second time. you chanted his name, over and over and over. you were driving him absolutely insane, he didn’t know how much longer he could last. but, he couldn’t cum yet. just a little longer. “eres toda mía princesa,” those words made you want him that much more, the bed creaking violently with each and every thrust.

your mind was filled with nothing but miguel. only him. as his pace only fastened, that heat in your stomach threatened to snap, your insides pulsing around him. “c-close.. i-im so close..–” you barely managed to form a sentence, the intensity of miguel’s thrust making it that much harder to do anything. “m-me too baby.. fuck. you’re gonna cum with me. understand?” you could only let out a measly ‘mhm’, not having enough energy to even speak. you were leaking already, the erotic sounds of his cock thrusting into your cunt echoed throughout the room. “ahora. cum for me angel,” one final thrust was all it took for you to reach your orgasm, and that was it all it took for miguel to fill you up to the brim, his cum spilling inside you as you creamed all over him, tears falling down your eyes from the intensity of it all.

his thrusts slowed down and slowly came to a stop, the both of you breathing heavily, still coming down from your highs. a white ring coated his girth from your mixed fluids, miguel slowly pulling out of you, a sigh escaping your lips from the empty feeling. pulling back to watch his seed drip out of your swollen hole, miguel smirked to himself, scarlet hues now staring into yours. “you did so good for me, y/n. tan orgullosa de ti,” he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against your forehead, a gentle smile hovering over his features. he walked over to his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to you, cleaning you up before laying down beside you.

he lifted up the covert, draping it over the both of you, wrapping his arms around you as you placed your head on his chest. “that felt good.. really good,” a content exhale left passed your plump lips, a short chuckle leaving the man next to you. “i’m glad you enjoyed it, baby.” you looked up at him, your hand raising to cup his cheek. “did you like it too?” he made a face almost saying ‘what kind of question is that?’, making him press a kiss to your lips, pulling you closer to him. “of course i did. i actually loved it,” his words made you feel warm laying your head back down onto his chest where it remained prior. his hand reached over to turn off the lamp on his side, both arms wrapping around you comfortably.

“get some sleep, mami. i’m sure you’re tired,” that you were, from all the rough fucking the both of you did, your eyes grew heavy by every passing second, falling into the soothing warmth that radiated off of his body. “mm.. okay. goodnight miguel,” succumbing into the tranquil and comfortable silence, next thing you know you’re fast asleep against his soft, broad chest. the sight of you sleeping had miguel melting, you looked so cute, feeling your heartbeat against his side. he slowly began to feel himself falling asleep as well, leaning his head back on the pillow, placing another kiss—against your head this time.

“buenas noches, y/n."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #i need this man so badly #Spotify

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farmerstarter · 1 year ago

Text

"Songs the Bachelors and Bachelorettes Listen To" Headcanons (Part 1: Bachelors)

This is inspired by @stardew-shitposterino ! I saw their post, where you can read here, and I wanted my own take on it. This was super fun to write. I'll have part 2 with the bachelorettes posted tomorrow. Also, the wildest shit just happened, I got into a biking accident lol! Anyways. Thanks for stopping by! All likes and reblogs are appreciated 🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 I'd like to imagine Alex would listen to the most bubbly songs while exercising. He plays Cupid by FIFTY FIFTY while lifting weights.

🏈 Half his music playlist is filled with music that Haley listens to because he can't be bothered to curate his own.

🏈 Hypes himself up before practicing gridball by listening to "Eye of The Tiger" by Survivor and ends his practice by listening to "The Final Countdown" by Europe.

🏈 Doesn't shuffle his songs so he knows he's supposed to do one exercise when a certain song plays. Like, "Oh it's 'OMG' by NewJeans, I should be doing push ups rn"

🏈 Knows old songs by Nat King Cole, The Ronettes, and Percy Sledge to name a few because his grandparents like to listen to them during the weekends.

ʚ📜ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

📜 Knows Sea Shanties because of Willy. Elliott reads on the bench by Willy's Shop while Willy was fishing and the fisherman just started singing. It would be cute to imagine that it happened because Elliott was tapping his foot in a slow rhythm and Willy started singing along with it.

📜 Elliott's knowledge on sea shanties gets even more deeper the more he hangs out with Willy. Willy invites Elliott to join him on his boat to do some deep fishing and Elliott knows like ten sea shanties by the time they get back to shore.

📜 He knows some classical pieces and plays them on his piano when he doesn't want to write for the day. Sometimes he'd compose his own songs on the spot.

📜 Dude goes main character mode and listens to songs by Cigarettes After Sex, like "Heavenly" and "John Wayne", sitting on the sand while watching the sun rise.

📜 He's a hopeless romantic, he listens to a lot of love songs. Ranging from old to new love songs, Elliott enjoys listening to the lyrics to somehow get inspired by them. It's funny to think that some of Elliott's compliments are low-key lyrics. Like, "I wish you bluebirds in the spring and to give your heart a song to sing" ('I Wish You Love' by Lisa Ono) and "Mine to have when the now and the here disappear" ('Again' by Doris Day). And it's completely unintentional. He doesn't even realize he's doing that. He just listens to romance songs too much.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Listens to The Carpenters. "Yesterday Once More", "Top of the World", "I Won't Last A Day Without You" all that stuff. He plays it in the clinic but only when Maru isn't there because he doesn't want to bother her with his song choices. Sometimes, he'd hum out the tune while examining patients. He just enjoys how soothing they sound.

🛩️ Speaking of soothing, he likes listening to slow songs to fall asleep to. Has a whole playlist for it too that's exactly 8 hours long. He goes straight to sleep when the first song finishes and wakes up just when the last song ends.

🛩️ He has a Walkman Cassette Player. He uses it when he does his aerobics classes. Listens to just about any song on it, really. Anything that makes it seem like time is going faster is great. OH. Wait. Maybe, the ladies end up having Harvey's cassette play on a stationary cassette player that Caroline has after Harvey lets them listen to it. They all found Harvey's song choices delightful.

🛩️ He offers music therapy. They're informal sessions at most but Harvey spends a lot of time making personalized playlists. Like full on carefully and heavily curated to match specific needs and moods for his patients. It skyrockets his music knowledge to the roof.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He has the most random and eclectic music taste. Ranges from Rock Music and Skate Punk to Vocaloid and Video Game music. He'd be listening to "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N' Roses for one moment then listen to the "Donky Kong Country Theme" the next.

🎸 He tries to copy the guitar riffs in some songs, not stopping until he can play it in one go. By the time he's done that countless of times, both Jodi and Vincent know what song he's playing based on the first few seconds of it.

🎸 Is the one to initiate a sing along in the Stardrop Saloon on Fridays. And he's always down to do karaoke. He's even suggested some more music-centered activities to do in town events. And he managed to convince Mayor Lewis to have him be DJ during the Summer Luau but only when he promised not to add anything disgusting into the potluck.

🎸 Teaches Vincent to play the drums when the kid doesn't have any classes. It all started with Sam letting his brother hit the crash cymbal for the end of a song he was playing. Then it all went up from there. Sam starts with the basics then lets Vincent play whatever. It's a noisy few weeks in the household but Jodi appreciates her boys spending more time together.

🎸 He has playlists for all situations.

ʚ👾ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

👾 This dude listens to Bonobo and Aphex Twin when programming. Better yet, Sam made him a playlist specifically for when he's programming and Sebastian doesn't skip any of the songs. That's a lie. He skips the songs that Sam put in there to mess with him like "CBAT" by Hudson Mohawke and Sam's poorly sung cover of "Fall For You" by Secondhand Serenade.

👾 You know how some of us would stay up until 3 am to complete a project before a deadline and listen to energetic songs while doing them so we won't fall asleep? Sebastian does that. Songs like "Caramelldansen" by the Caramella Girls, "Bumblebee" by Bambee, and "Superstar" by Toy-Box to name a few. Just the idea of Sebastian hunched over his computer with those songs playing while Sam is fully jamming in the background is great.

👾 Listens to the dirtiest songs with the straightest face ever.

👾 I'm all for villagers interacting with each other so consider Sebastian and Elliott being unlikely acquaintances after Sebastian showed Elliott the wonders of the synthesizer.

👾 When his mind wanders, he ends up humming out the tune that Abigail plays with her flute.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Sings to his chickens. He does, you know he does. Even sings in accents when he's bored enough. Jas found out he does that after going in Shane's coop, thinking a stranger was trying to steal her uncle's chickens. But no, it's just Shane singing "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton with a British accent.

🐣 Always has his headphones on during work at the Joja Market so no one would bother him. There wouldn't even be a song playing, he just wears them. One time Sam tried to get his attention but Shane outright ignores him even when Sam pointed out his headphones aren't even connected to anything.

🐣 I like to think that Shane is a fan of Indie Folk and he listens to songs by Bon Iver when walking to work. "Beach Baby" is his favorite song.

🐣 Since Shane's always the last one to leave the Saloon, Gus would let him pick what songs to play in the jukebox until the saloon closes. Even after Shane stopped drinking alcohol, he and Gus would spend time together at the late hours of the night talking, listening to whatever song Shane played.

#stardew valley #stardew valley headcanons #sdv alex #stardew valley alex #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #sdv harvey #stardew valley harvey #sdv sam #stardew valley sam #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv shane #stardew valley shane #🌱 writing :: BACHELORS

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wlw-webcomic-bracket · 6 months ago

Text

Today:

I wake up at three in the morning to go to the airport

I got two hours of sleep because I make good life choices

I’m in the last boarding group so I have to courtesy check my suitcase

Ten minutes later I have a moment of utter panic because I can’t find my suitcase

In my defense it is extremely morning and I got two hours of sleep

Flight itself is mostly uneventful

However:

Apparently we landed just ahead of a nasty storm

The pilot says all the planes behind us were probably getting diverted to other airports

Man I really dodged a bullet

Sure my flight to Kansas City is probably delayed but there’s some slack in my schedule, I can manage

My flight to Kansas City is not delayed

It is cancelled

Fuck

If I reschedule online I can’t get to Kansas City until tomorrow

Tomorrow *night*, specifically

I mean technically I could go to Chicago and then back to Kansas City and get there at 8 or so but that seems way too convoluted and anyway it’s too late to make the connection

Wait a second

I am not actually going to Kansas City

I am going to a tiny campground in the middle of nowhere

I am just meeting friends in Kansas City because it’s on the way

I could go to other places

Briefly consider renting a car to just drive from Dallas to the camp site

There is a flash flood warning

Also: two hours of sleep

Never mind definitely not doing that

I stand in line for one hour and fifty-five minutes to talk to a person

The people just ahead of me in line are dealing with their second cancelled flight in two days across two different airports

Damn that sucks

The airline books me on an afternoon flight to Springfield

If the camp site is in the middle of nowhere then Springfield would be the edge of nowhere

Friends make arrangements to get me picked up

At this point I am exhausted and my feet hurt and my phone’s battery is nearly dead

I get to my gate and collapse in a chair

Text from the airline:

The flight to Springfield is cancelled

I was booked for less than an hour

Maybe the planes behind mine are the ones that dodged a bullet

I get in another line

By now I have been in the airport for five and a half hours and I’ve been standing for five of them

At least the line is shorter this time

Agent says there are no open seats on flights to Springfield for the rest of the evening

But he spends a minute refreshing to see if an opening comes up

An opening comes up

In first class

(I’ve never flown first class before)

At PRECISELY the same moment I get a text from my partner

Trump is convicted on all counts

You know what

I take it back

Today doesn’t entirely suck

I don’t even mind when that flight is delayed two hours too

More time to nap and watch the gundam lesbians show

(Holy shit that’s some intense tonal whiplash at the end of the first season)

(So good)

Am I forgetting something?

Probably not

I get on the flight

My three hour layover took twelve hours

Goodbye Dallas I’ll see you in hell (Dallas)

Land in Springfield just after midnight

My suitcase is in Kansas City

#thankfully I have everything I need that is not clothes #and I should have clothes again tomorrow #Dallas was truly hell today #at one point around a third of all flights were cancelled #and all the others were significantly delayed #do not want to repeat that experience

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shimmerwindow · 1 year ago

Text

I Never Really

Part Three

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

Playlist | Masterlist

Friday crawled by at a snail’s pace. You normally hated Fridays. The campus was always buzzing with so much activity on the weekends, and it made it hard for you to focus on your studies. Saturday and Sunday were the days you would reserve for working on big projects, but it was difficult sometimes when every other dorm room in a 100-foot radius was blasting music. Part of you felt like a grumpy old man, wanting to go bang on doors and shout turn it down! A smaller, quieter part of you was envious of those who had the time, and friends, to party.

You dragged yourself over to the dining hall after class, your mind filled with thoughts of the party you’d be going to tomorrow. It gave you butterflies to think about it. Meeting new people wasn’t something you were great at, nor enjoyed, and big parties were far from your favorite thing. You stared at the sky, the clouds brushed a gentle pink as the sun set, and wondered if it was too late to cancel.

The dining hall was something you typically avoided if you could help it, preferring your microwaved noodles over any of the slop they served there, but you’d been a bit burnt out on the styrofoam-y taste of chicken-flavored cup noodles lately. You managed to find a quiet corner, and sat down with a tray of the few things in the place that looked edible.

Across the room, you watched a group of jock-type guys make their way in, shoving each other and laughing. One of them locked eyes with you, and you quickly turned your head away and pulled out your phone, opening whatever app came up first, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way directly to where you were sitting. You’d been hit on at this god-forsaken place more than once, and it appeared it was about to happen again. You sighed, and turned your eyes up to the potential suitor.

You blinked a few times. Of course it was Sam. Why did it always have to be Sam?

“Hey!” He called.

You gave him a wave and a small smile, not really in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to eat in peace, but that would have to wait, as he pulled out the chair across from you, dropping his tray onto the table and sitting down.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I don’t usually partake in the unholy abominations they serve here.”

He laughed, holding up a slice of utterly unappetizing pizza he had on his plate. “What, this doesn’t make you hungry?”

“Not exactly.” You picked at what was on your plate, wishing you’d simply settled for noodles tonight.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asked between bites.

You put on a brave smile, lying through your teeth. “Totally.” You wouldn’t describe your feelings as excited, necessarily. Terrified was more of the word you were looking for.

“It starts at, like, 8. I think. I dunno. I’ll let you know.”

You nodded. That was somewhat good news – you could use the I’m tired excuse after only an hour or two.

“What should I wear?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I got this, like…vintage sweater thing I wanna wear.” His eyes lit up, clearly excited about it. “It’s blue and brown and it's got all these cool designs on it, and it’s so comfy. I love it.”

You couldn't help but soften up a bit, seeing how excited he got over something as simple as a sweater. He was so enthusiastic when you asked him where he got it, going on a tirade about all of the thrift stores in town while you ate and listened, and he told you all about how they had so many hidden gems if you knew when to look.

“I should go to some of them some time.”

“Absolutely! I’ll take you there!”

He was so sweet sometimes it was almost annoying. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah! Like, a little thrift store date.”

Cold silence froze the air between you two, his smile fading, your face prickling with a rising blush. Date.

“I mean, not like that. I meant like, friend date. Not date. Just going to thrift stores together. Like friends. Are we friends?”

There it was once again, that rushed, frantic tone he got when he was flustered.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say back, looking out the window and back to you a few times, silent. You needed a cigarette.

“Well,” you sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m gonna go smoke.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll text you.”

You’d half-expected him to ask to join you, a little surprised he didn’t. Maybe even a bit disappointed. “See you then.”

It was starting to feel like you couldn’t have a normal interaction with him. Every time, it was something. Though, seeing him tonight seemed to wash some of your worries away. He was kind, and from what you knew about him, he seemed like a good companion to have at a party of strangers.

Sleep came easily that night, thankfully. You drifted off peacefully, finally exhausted from the week before. And in your dreams, you found yourself in a familiar place. If it was possible to get deja vu in dreams, you were feeling it.

You were at the top of a skyscraper in some city you didn't recognize, the wind blowing hard enough to throw you off the edge, but you didn't move. The sky was clear and full of stars, galaxies streaking across the blackness and lighting everything in a delicate purple.

Sam was next to you, pointing at the sky, saying words that were carried away on the wind, but somehow you knew he was explaining the stars to you. He would point at a section of sky and it would glow, as if he held dominion over the stars. Like he told them when to shine.

And then, you were in a dorm room, similar to yours but not quite right, the layout was all wrong. You laid on a bed that was too big for a dorm, and just above you, Sam was there. His face hovered just above yours, his hair hanging down to brush the sides of your face. You knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it gladly, your body melting into his. He was made of warmth and light, and love, so much love.

* * *

Your eyes opened to daylight, the dream ending abruptly, leaving you disoriented when you finally came to your senses. These dreams were starting to get ridiculous. He wouldn’t leave your head, even when he wasn't around. You put your mind to work immediately to push any thoughts of him aside, getting out your laptop and starting up your to-do list for the day.

The minutes ticked by slowly, your eyes always watching the clock, waiting for a text from him, dreading the night ahead. I’ll show up to be kind, have one drink, and disappear. Nobody will even notice when I leave, you thought. Though, nothing seemed to be that level of straightforward around Sam.

You successfully kept yourself preoccupied, until you decided to work on your joint project. He’d written quite a bit since the last time you looked at the document. It was endearing, like you were getting a glimpse into a part of him very few people knew. His style was brutish, getting his point across in as few words as possible, with the most blunt language he could muster. It was cute, in a way.

Time seemed to speed up while you occupied yourself, and before you were anywhere near ready to do so, it was finally time to get yourself ready for the party. You did so in silence, working the party over in your mind. It wasn’t too late to cancel. But you couldn’t do that to him. You imagined how his face would fall when you would tell him you couldn’t go anymore, and it broke your heart a bit. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not after that dream you'd had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, knocking you out of your thoughts. Sam’s name was on the screen.

leaving soon, you ready? he’d sent.

ready when you are

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror, memories of your dream from the night before washing over you once again. Staring into your own eyes, you willed it away, pushing the memory down to the deepest recesses of your consciousness until it was lost with all the other thoughts that wandered around in there. You could not possibly face him with such a dream still knocking against the forefront of your mind.

When you finally met Sam on the first floor, you were a bit taken aback at just how…nice he looked. He was wearing the sweater he’d told you about, the patterns and colors complimenting his features perfectly. He had on a faded pair of jeans with a few square patches of fabric sewn into them – one with an elephant on it, another with a detailed drawing of a star. His hair was down, flawless and glossy as always. He gave you a toothy grin when he saw you, his eyes briefly running up and down the length of your body.

“You look nice,” he said, the words catching in his throat a bit.

“Same to you,” you replied, trying to keep a level head with his words repeating over and over in your mind.

“Thanks!” He looked down at himself. “I made these myself,” he motioned at the jeans. “Well, I didn't, like, make them, but I found these cool patches and put ‘em on.”

“You can sew?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course I can. My mom taught me when I was a youngin.”

The thought of him sitting in his dorm, delicately sewing patches onto his jeans, was almost too much for you to bear. “Wanna get going?” The daylight had already long faded from the sky, the few stars obscured by a blanket of clouds.

“Absolutely, miss eclipse.”

“Don’t call me that, cornball.”

“Missus eclipse? Ma’am?” He cocked his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip against a smile. The things he said, coming from any other person, wouldn't even solicit a grin from you half the time. But something about him…you couldn’t help but laugh at every one of his jokes. “Let’s go already.”

The two of you made your way out of the hall and out into the night. There was a surprising number of people out tonight – though, that was only your perception. You didn’t leave the dorms much on Saturday nights if you could help it. Too much commotion, too many drunk men. Walking with Sam felt safe, though.

You made light small talk as you walked, discussing things like the coming winter, how you’d heard it was going to be a pretty bad one this year. You’d expected to feel more nervous at this point, but your body and mind both felt rather calm; as calm as they could be in Sam’s presence. There was something about him that radiated calm, like a lit fireplace or the smoke from incense. Walking with him, even in silence, felt right in a way you couldn't place. And between words, you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand as you walked.

#gvf fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #gvf fic #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #i never really

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mimisempai · 6 months ago

Text

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 7/8

Chapter summary - First date?

Has the long-awaited moment arrived?

On Ao3

Rating G - 2627 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

Crowley's apartment - 2024

I WANT TO MEET YOU!

FOR REAL THIS TIME!

Crowley turned the drawing over and saw that Aziraphale had added a few words.

Answer me after 6 pm, I'll be waiting by the mailbox.

Crowley looked at the clock, it was 4:10.

He grabbed his notepad and pencil and headed for the lake house.

Arriving a few minutes after 6 p.m., he went to the mailbox, scribbled quickly in his notebook, tore out the page, and after placing it in the box, raised the small flag.

The flag lowered almost immediately, telling him that Aziraphale was there and marking the beginning of another conversation punctuated by its movement.

Lake House - 2022 - 6:07pm

Aziraphale paced around the mailbox, avoiding looking at his watch every minute, wondering if he'd scared Crowley off with his request for a meeting.

What if Crowley didn't want to see him?

What if the correspondence was enough for him?

The flag suddenly rose, startling him.

With a shaking hand, he grabbed the small piece of paper from the box, read Crowley's reply, and then grabbed his pen.

C:How?

A:Pick a place. I'll be there. I promise. How about tomorrow?

C:That's not tomorrow for you. You'll have to wait two years.

A: I don't care. I'll wait. Meet me tomorrow at the restaurant of your choice and I'll be there. I'll be two years older, but I'll be there.

C:What will you do all the time?

A: Thinking about you. Restoring a lot of things, reading a lot of books, praying I don't lose my hair....

C:Are you sure?

A: I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I've lost so much time already. I don't want to waste any more with you.

Crowley suddenly felt almost dizzy.

He realized that Aziraphale had had two years to prepare for this date, while Crowley had less than twenty-four hours. He took a deep breath before closing the mailbox.

C: See you tomorrow night.

A: See you in two years. Where do you want to go?

The Ritz - 2022

Aziraphale entered the restaurant and was immediately greeted by a smiling hostess.

He smiled back and said softly, "Good Evening, I'd like to make a reservation for two."

She flipped through the reservation booklet before saying in an apologetic tone, "Well, I'm sorry, I'm afraid it's extremely difficult to get a reservation this time of year. I mean, it depends on when you want to dine here."

Aziraphale replied with an amused smile, "Two years from tomorrow. September 15, 2024."

The hostess blinked several times, then closed the book before replying with a broad smile, "We should be able to accommodate you, sir."

Crowley's apartment - September 15, 2024 - Morning

Crowley prepared to leave for work. He looked at the outfit he had prepared for this evening. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been this excited for a date.

In fact, he couldn't remember ever being this excited.

Rainbow Academie - September 15, 2024 - 5 p.m.

As he was packing up after his last class of the day and looking forward to the evening ahead, he was jolted from his reverie by Eric's arrival in the classroom.

His friend exclaimed, "Thank God you're still here."

"Of course."

Eric continued sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I know it's not your week, but could you take the detention I'm supposed to supervise? Muriel called me because they're not doing so well. You know, ever since they lost their friend, it's been a little difficult for them, and today is a bad day, and I'd like to be there for them..."

Crowley looked at his watch and sighed before replying, "Yes, I can, but one hour, no more. I've got a date."

Eric hugged him and replied, "Thank you, thank you! I promise, it's just an hour, no more. But I want to hear all about this date tomorrow, okay?"

Crowley shook his head and chuckled, "Okay, okay, go meet Muriel! It's important to be with your loved ones when they need you."

Before he left, Eric threw over his shoulder, "I don't know who that is, but I've never seen you smile like that, Crowley, and it suits you! Bye!"

He was gone before Crowley had time to answer.

A little over an hour later, he was walking briskly to his apartment. He entered hurriedly, ran into the room and undressed, throwing his clothes everywhere.

Harry followed, curious, while Crowley muttered, "He waited two years. What's a few more minutes? Isn't it?"

He continued his preparations, but at a slower pace. He put on a dark red V-neck sweater, a shade he knew would bring out his eyes, or so the saleswoman had told him, and black pants that flattered his figure. He looked at himself in the mirror two or three times, checked his hairstyle, then shrugged and left the apartment.

A few minutes later he left the building and drove his Bentley to the restaurant.

The Ritz - 15 September 2024 - 7pm

Crowley paused before entering. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was ready, a little nervous but confident.

He opened the door with a firm hand.

He took off his coat and scanned the room with his eyes.

There weren't many tables, but before he could find Aziraphale, the hostess approached him.

"Good evening, sir, may I help you?"

Crowley cleared his throat, "Yes, I have a reservation. Anthony. Or Fell, I'm not sure which name it was made under."

The hostess checked her book and looked up with a big smile, "Oh yes! You're the..." she paused before pulling herself together, "Follow me, please."

Crowley was led to a table for two.

It was empty, which surprised him a bit.

The hostess turned to him and said, a little embarrassed, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I have to ask..."

"Yes?"

"This reservation is kind of... legendary. It's been here longer than some people of the staff. There's always been intense speculation about who made it and why, and whether you'd actually show up. Some team members even made bets..."

Crowley looked around and saw that waiters all over the room were giving him furtive glances. Chefs and kitchen helpers peered through the kitchen door. Crowley felt suddenly very embarrassed.

The hostess apologized immediately: "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I'll have the waiter take your drink order right away."

A short time later, a waiter returned and poured Crowley a glass of champagne.

"Compliments of the chef."

Crowley nodded his thanks.

Just before leaving, the waiter gave him a small smile: "Good luck."

Crowley began to sip the champagne, hoping to calm his growing nervousness.

Some time later, his glass was empty and he was still waiting, alone at the table. The waiter approached to refill his glass, but Crowley stopped him.

He was aware that the restaurant staff was watching him, whispering among themselves. Two hours passed, other customers lingering over dessert, coffee, intimate conversation at candlelit tables.

Crowley was still alone.

After a long moment, he pushed back his chair and stood. Everyone looked at him sadly.

He walked forward, expressionless, and picked up his coat, saying nothing to anyone before leaving under the sad gaze of the hostess who watched him go.

Crowley returned home alone. Behind the closed door of his apartment, his stoic facade began to crumble, and he could barely hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.

He picked up a piece of paper and started to write, but in the end, he didn't have the heart.

Not now.

Lake House - September 16, 2022

The weather was gray and windy this morning as Aziraphale stood outside his mailbox and unfolded Crowley's note.

"YOU WEREN'T THERE."

The antiquarian shook his head, confused, and let some time pass before answering.

A: I'm so sorry. I just don't understand.

Something must have happened.

Look, I've got two years ahead of me. I'll try to make things right.

C: No, Aziraphale... You don't understand. It's too late for that. It's already happened.

I'm not upset. I mean, I was at first.

But now I just feel stupid... for forgetting how much a person's life can change in two years.

And for expecting yours not to.

For expecting you to wait, to stand still, to put your life on hold for me.

A: But I can do it. I can wait for you. I know I can. I won't forget.

C: Maybe you have. Maybe, wherever you are, you're busy and happy and living so fully in the present that the dinner you planned two years ago just... slipped out of your mind. Just as you forget impossible fantasies when they're over, when you move on to real life.

A: You mean I should get on with my real life?

C: I mean... I think we both should.

After seeing his words, Aziraphale hurried to reply, his hand trembling with emotion.

Please write me, answer me.

Aziraphale placed his letter in the mailbox and raised the flag.

The little flag stayed up.

An hour later, with the flag still up, Aziraphale opened the mailbox to find the note he'd put there.

Hours, then days, then weeks, then months passed as Aziraphale wrote and mailed letter after letter. Eventually, there was a pile of his letters in the box. They kept piling up, unanswered. Until the box was so full that Aziraphale couldn't put any more letters in it.

The Dirty Donkey - February 2025

It was late winter and everything outside was covered in snow.

Crowley sat at a table with Eric, Anathema, and Newt.

They met here at least once a week after work.

As Newt and Anathema bickered as usual, Eric leaned over to Crowley and, placing a hand on his arm, asked gently, "Are you okay?"

Crowley mustered a half-smile and answered honestly, for Eric was one of the few people who could read him, "I'm better."

"Still writing your mysterious pen pal?"

Crowley, his throat tightening, couldn't answer and shook his head.

Eric just said, without insisting, "Sorry, Crowley, if you need to talk, you know my phone number."

Crowley didn't answer.

Later, when he got home, he found a message on his answering machine.

"Hello Crowley. This is Furfur. I'm in town. I had to come in for a meeting."

Crowley started to press the button to erase the message when Furfur's voice continued, "A real meeting this time. I swear to you. Call me. If you feel like it."

The next evening, Crowley and Furfur sat in the pizzeria where they'd met a few months ago. Neither of them really felt well.

Furfur said quietly, "I didn't think you'd come."

Crowley replied wryly, "Nothing personal, but..."

Furfur interrupted, "You couldn't say no to a free meal."

"Exactly."

They both laughed, lightening the mood a bit.

Then Crowley asked, "So how did your 'meeting' go?"

Furfur looked slightly offended by Crowley's emphasis on the word "meeting" and replied, "I told you I didn't make it up, it really happened. They offered me a job, with a bigger firm. I'm going to be a legal advisor on wealth matters," he smiled proudly before continuing, "Call them if you don't believe me."

A little later they arrived at Crowley's residence, which was on the way to Furfur's hotel. They stopped at the door.

Furfur said softly, "I took this job because I wanted to. This has nothing to do with you. With us. This is not an ambush, Crowley."

Crowley nodded and replied quietly, "Well, that's great news. Congratulations, Furfur. I'm really happy for you."

Furfur smiled, "Thank you, and thank you for agreeing to meet me."

Crowley leaned over and gave him a quick good night kiss. Furfur looked surprised and pleased.

Crowley looked at him, it was comforting and familiar, almost tempting when he felt so lonely, but then his eyes slipped to the tree behind Furfur. Its leaves swayed in the night air. It was the tree that Aziraphale had planted.

Crowley looked at it for a few seconds, remembering the day it had appeared, the joy he had felt then, and in that moment he knew.

He closed his eyes and shook his head before saying sheepishly, "No, I'm sorry, Furfur, but I can't. I thought for a moment I could... but I can't."

Furfur nodded and said, "I know. Don't be sorry. I didn't expect anything. I didn't lie to you."

A little ashamed, Crowley apologized again, and after a tearful goodbye, he watched Furfur leave.

As he made his way back to his apartment, he muttered to himself, "I may not be able to meet Aziraphale, but I can't lie to myself either."

Lake house - 2023

It was so cold that the surface of the lake was frozen.

The mailbox was covered with snow. Aziraphale, who had been walking outside, reflexively looked into the it. Even after all this time.

It was empty, of course.

He closed it slowly, feeling sad as always, so sad.

Distracted, he first didn't notice Harry moving quickly away, towards the forest until he finally looked back and saw it.

"Harry! Come back!"

Harry took off running.

Aziraphale ran after him, but soon, in the density of the forest, he no longer saw the rabbit. Aziraphale ran straight ahead, still calling. He tripped over a stump and fell into the snow, got up and called again, looking around distraught.

Harry was really gone.

Aziraphale was about to run again when he suddenly stopped.

He'd just realized something.

Harry was about to find his new owner.

Aziraphale knew what to do.

A few days later, he was talking to Muriel in the living room.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Aziraphale replied wistfully, "Yes, I have to move on, I can't stay here. I... I can only think of him."

Muriel nodded, understanding, and added simply, "If you need help, you can count on me."

A few weeks later, Aziraphale tidied up the house with method and determination. He taped boxes together and tossed his belongings into them. He bagged the trash, swept and mopped.

As he tidied up, he found the pile of Crowley's letters. He looked at them for a moment, then wrapped them up and shoved them in the bottom of a cardboard box before carrying the box up to the attic and sealing it.

Real Estate Agency X - London - 2023

Aziraphale checked the address on the business card in his hand before entering and heading for the reception desk.

"Hello, I'd like to speak to Furfur, sorry, Ferdinand Stamper. I don't have an appointment, but tell him it's Aziraphale and it's urgent."

A few minutes later he saw Furfur arrive in the entrance hall and he beckoned him to follow him into an adjoining meeting room. He barely greeted him and didn't seem very happy to see him.

Aziraphale didn't wait and asked him directly, "Are you still interested in renting a house on the lake?"

He didn't wait for an answer and threw him a bunch of keys.

Furfur looked confused as Aziraphale continued, "This is what Crowley wants."

Furfur asked in an irritated tone, "How can you know that? How do you know what he wants? Besides, we're not even..."

Aziraphale shook his head, "I don't want to know, but believe me, this is what he wants."

He waited no longer and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Later, when Furfur opened his car, something in the distance caught his eye. A rabbit was walking slowly down the road, looking a little lost until it came right up to him.

Furfur recognized it.

It was Harry

_________

You want to curse me? But what if I told you that in five minutes... you'll have the rest of the story?

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe

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