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desireangel · 2 months ago

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Infernal Desires | Part Two

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Part One

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+ ONLY! Aemond is conflicted, bad language, some religious guilt if you really squint, some fingering wooop, tension, orgasm denial, inconsistent writing my bad, Aemond's response and defence mechanisms are to fake hatred, this man hates feelings, allusions to sex, allusions to death and killing, again Aemond is angry handsy, a bitch gets slapped bc sometimes violence IS the answer. unedited (shock).

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: look, I know y'all were hoping for an update on Dark Cherry instead but hey, this one happened along first! I have been swamped with work at my new job (LOVE) and an exam that's in two days sooooo this is my apology for the delay in updates for both fics! Lmk your thoughts & ideas - inbox is always open to chat my loves

xoxo kisses!! <3

Masterlist

Weeks had passed and Aemond had been acting as if you were nonexistent. He had ignored your attempts at talking to him, pretended he couldn’t hear the constant questions that you asked about what you were you doing here and why are you here if no formal arrangements to be wed have been made as was promised?

Truth be told, Aemond was having second thoughts. He had acted irrationally in making the deal. Jericho may have been someone he loved as a confidant and a friend but truly, he could have simply had him hanged without blinking an eye. Treason is treason and Aemond certainly would not stand for it but here you were, waiting outside of his own chambers with a fierceness in your eyes that managed to catch him by surprise.

Without saying a word, Aemond stood in front of you and waited for you to speak.

“I was supposed to become your wife last week,” You avoided letting your anger at being strung along seep into your tone. “Instead, you have imprisoned me within the walls of the Keep and avoid me like I am some sort of disease.” Stepping towards him, you shook off the nerves that had your stomach in knots. “I tried to visit the town yesterday. Your kingsguard stopped me from leaving. Said you told them that I am not to exit the grounds.”

Aemond was calm. “That is exactly what I told them.”

“You said I could visit home when I please.”

A shrug that had his pin-straight hair dancing softly. “I lied.”

“Well,” you glared at him, staring him down with as much contempt as you could muster. “You best start telling the truth-”

“Do not,” Aemond’s spat, a departure from his usual slow and commanding drawl. You wondered whether he resented you such that he wouldn’t be able to reign back the worst of himself around you. “speak to me like that. I have warned you that I will not tolerate disrespect. Not from the likes of you-”

Your hand met his cheek before you realised what was happening. It wasn’t hard and Aemond barely flinched more than the slight turn of his head but your hand burned hot at the satisfying mistake that had just been made. Pushing down the fear that bubbled in your gut, you squared your shoulders and spoke firmly. “You have me brought here as a bargaining tool for my family’s lives. To force me into wedding you. And now that I am here and we are betrothed, you refuse to do so. Is there honour to your word or are we all to face execution instead?”

You had caught the side of his bad eye and a dull ache pulsed behind his eyepatch. He all but growled, grasping your wrists tightly in his hands and hunching over you, casting a dark shadow across your face.

Aemond was red with frustration and you were half aware that angering him would not turn out well. But you were not going to cower and fold to the power that he held over you - over everyone. He may be the current ruler of Westeros to its citizens but the two of you had spent some moments of your childhood together and you knew what kind of man he was past the charade of coldness and stoicism. Arrogant, greedy, entitled and selfish.

He knew that he shouldn’t take your behaviour lightly - that were it anyone else, he’d have dished it right back. But admittedly or not, you had caught Aemond off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to have the gall to hit him.

Part of him–he would never, ever entertain the fact that it was actually most of him–enjoyed it. Your inability to control yourself and your emotions around him was entirely satisfying. And Aemond loved to watch how you cowered in fear at the realisation of your actions and that he was at all liberty to decide on their consequences.

All the while, and you couldn’t help but think he looked terrifyingly handsome in his anger, though the right corner of his lips upturned gently. “You should appreciate the generosity I have shown you. I hardly understand how you are making a problem out of this.”

“Generosity?” You scoffed. “You’re keeping me prisoner.”

Aemond’s expression was blank, the strands of hair that had come loose at the swipe of your hand on his cheek casting shadows of his face as he let out a snarl. The leather of his meticulously tailored tunic brushed against your hand and before you knew it, he guided you into his chambers with a strong push that had you stumbling inside.

“Since you’re so ungrateful, I will show you what it means to be a prisoner in my home,” Aemond spoke with a slow, rumbling tone. “You are not to leave without my permission. Try to run away and I will have you punished.”

And with that, he left you to yourself, slamming the door harshly behind him. The click of the lock was barely drowned out by your protests, palms smacking against the wood of the door.

How dare he?

Tears welled in your eyes but even in your own company, you refused to let them fall. The ache in your chest for the freedom to visit home, to walk the gardens and to see your friends was overwhelming. You hadn’t been here long and you knew that the Red Keep was a luxury far beyond what you were used to but the feeling of confinement ate you alive.

This was not fair. You had done him no wrong. In fact, his hatred towards you was entirely unwarranted and everything seemed so, so unfair. His problem wasn’t with you - it was with Jericho and your father. So why did Aemond have so much rage for you?

If this was to be your prison cell then you were fortunate, you thought. At least he didn’t send you down to the dungeons or to whatever place was made for those who crossed the Prince Regent.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew Jericho and your father had been lying to you. It made no sense - in fact, it was a ridiculous excuse that they had given you. You weren’t stupid - there was no marriage that could possibly fulfil the extent of Jericho’s debt nor to save your family’s already tarnished reputation.

So why were you here? You had your own doubts. Not only had you spent the last weeks with little more to do than think but hours had passed alone in this cage since your confrontation with Aemond.

Jericho had said you were only a part of whatever bargain he had struck. You figured that Aemond had use for Jericho and here you were, a token of control over your family. So long as he had you here, Jericho would have to do whatever it was that Aemond needed him to do free of question.

The sound of the door lock clicking pulled you out of your thoughts. Merylle, the maid who had been assigned to you much to your surprise, didn’t bother knocking before stepping inside with her arms full of–gowns?

“The Prince Regent wishes for me to get you ready,” she said. “You’ll be attending the feast we are hosting tonight.”

A feast? While we were all at war?

A message.

You eyed the gown that Merylle laid down on your bed before rushing towards your wardrobe to put away the others that she held. From what you could see of the gown, it was unlike any dress you’d ever had the chance to wear.

“I am truly to wear this?”

The look she gave was answer enough. “I will run you a bath first. And then I shall help you into the dress.”

You quickly washed up, half tempted to take your time but Merylle was waiting for you and you didn’t intend for her to fall victim to your antics. There was a matching night dress that had been laid out with the dress - if you could call it that - and you scoffed at the idea of wearing it.

Did all the other women at court have negligee to match their day clothes?

Clutching the towel to your chest, you ignored the smallclothes that were also laid out. You were already sweating from stress. Before Merylle could turn around, you shrugged on a robe and turned to do your own hair.

Merylle pottered about, seemingly displeased with your insistence on doing your minimal hair and makeup yourself. She helped you step into your dress, adjusting the fabric wherever it needed. “Perfect, my Lady.”

“Please, you do not need to address me formally,” you corrected.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Fuck.

The gown was a perfect fit. It was a deep emerald green silk gown which cinched at your waist before falling loosely yet gracefully from your hips. The bust was stiff and covered your cleavage just enough so that it could accentuate the swell of your breasts perfectly, a square neckline that left your collarbones and neck bare. It made you feel sultry in an entirely new way - it seemed as if it were seamless, flowing down and clinging to your skin at specific places to highlight each curve and dip of your body.

This was a powerful dress and you wondered if Aemond had intended it to be. Merylle fastened a jewelled chain around your neck. You asked her the question that had been lingering at the back of your mind, “Why does he want me there?”

And where the hell was he?

“I am merely a housekeeper,” Merylle spoke, her voice stern. She reminded you of a teacher. “I wouldn’t know.”

It almost made you laugh at the thought that he had effectively banished himself to some other part of the Keep in his stubbornness.

“Oh,” you murmured.

“I’ll leave you for now. The prince will escort you downstairs when he is ready for you.”

And just like that, you were locked alone once more.

Aemond was making you wait. He knew that your mind would be racing with questions - questions he knew you would assault him with as soon as you had the chance. If he wanted to, he was more than ready to pick you up from his chambers and show you to the banquet hall. But there was something so satisfying in knowing the infuriating, heated effect he had on you.

He could picture the scowl on your face and the way you’d be wallowing in your impatience.

Forty-minutes had felt like two hours before Aemond was standing in your doorway, dressed impeccably in matching emerald silk that was tailored to every curve of his body. He was like the embodiment of Adonis, the way he radiated with beauty, strength and temptation.

Aemond’s gaze made your breath catch in your throat. It was hot and you swore you could feel it scorching your skin as he studied you from head to toe. He slowly dragged his violet eye up and down your body twice, swallowing and clenching his jaw as he turned away. “Let’s go.”

Gods. Aemond was raised a man of piety and honour but you were a tempting little thing and the urge to ravish you in that dress he had chosen for you–the dress which only seemed to multiply your beauty tenfold��was impossible to ignore. He was no prude but he felt that he deserved penance for the sinful thoughts of you that plagued his mind.

And as you gazed up at him, innocently and unaware of all the ways he longed to defile you and unaware of his hardness straining against the fabric of his breeches, Aemond cursed himself for his doubts about marrying you.

Aemond cursed himself to damnation for being too weak to admit that he yearned for you. Cursed himself because he wished to be yours and for you to be his but he would never be strong enough to live up to being good for you.

He would forever fear the disappointment in a woman’s gaze–as his mother had always looked at him, the perception that he was unworthy of reverence and the truth that he will never be enough. Because all that Aemond ever seems to do is let people down when he is trying his best and being in love with the daughter of a treasonous lord was a vile predicament.

The Dowager Queen had already told him so. She knew that the smallfolk and lords and ladies alike thought of her second son as a vicious man. But she had only agreed to the betrothal as a means to show the people that her family will always land on top. That you will be living out the rest of your life in the bed of such a man whose House and name your blood has betrayed. In the palm of the Crown.

To show them that they have control over everyone somehow. That they were to be respected lest such traitors wanted to subject their loved ones to their reparations.

Aemond stiffened at his thoughts. He couldn’t be in love with you. He had hardly known you truly. Above all, Aemond was sure that he would never be capable of giving nor receiving something so unattainable as love.

Did he not resent you so? He rolled his eye. One nice dress was all it took for him to fall victim to such idiocies. Perhaps he was no different to the other men of these halls.

“Am I-Am I to accompany you as your betrothed?” You still didn’t understand.

“You said you wanted to see your family. Your parents will be here tonight.”

You took a moment to think about his words.

I have your daughter. She’s safe and sound so long as you behave.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if it meant that you’d get to see your parents. A sense of urgency overwhelmed you and you rushed towards Aemond. “Let us go then.”

Goosebumps arose on your skin the second that Aemond’s hand brushed against the dip of your back. It was a gentle graze, feather light and barely there but he drew his hand back and took a breath before you could even blink.

“Follow me.”

Aemond had left your side before entering. The main hall was alive with people, many of whom you recognised from your limited days in court as a young girl. They all looked at you scornfully and you knew that they were all thinking of you as a traitor to the Crown. You were not but you had the same blood as one.

The music was pleasant and some people danced while others were busy drinking and conversing. You searched the crowd for your parents, hoping that you didn’t look as crazed as you felt. There were so many eyes on you, so much judgment that it made you suck in a breath and keep your eyes anywhere but on the guests.

Your mother was toward the entrance, a champagne flute held delicately between her fingers as she talked with your father.

It was a miracle they had been invited after everything but you knew that they were only here because Aemond had a message for them. A message that was loud and clear just through your attendance. A message that told them that you were sitting comfortably in the palm of his hand, that he could use your entire family for whatever he pleased.

“Ma,” you reached for her, willing yourself not to cry in a room filled with people. She gasped, arms wrapping around your shoulders as she mumbled incoherently. “Are you okay? And Jericho?”

“We’re all fine,” she smiled sweetly. “How is it? Over here? Are they treating you badly-”

Your father cleared his throat loudly. “Ears everywhere, my dear. I see that Prince Aemond has been generous.”

Generous. That word was like a parasite, stuck to you and making you sick to your stomach.

“Yes. I suppose I have been alright.”

You stayed with them for the entirety of the night, slowly making your way through one cup of wine and a couple plates of the food that was set out for the guests.

Slipping your cup onto a tray that one of the servants were carrying, you smiled at Floris Baratheon who spared a glance at you from where she stood. She was talking to Aemond and another man whom you could not name, a hand on his arm as she gazed at him through her eyelashes.

She was only embarrassing herself, you thought. Aemond had put an end to that so that he could play out this game. Yet she still tried. Not that you cared, right?

You glanced towards the corridor. Aemond seemed distracted enough by the conversation. Maybe you could blend in with the guests, make your way out as part of a group and nobody would be any the wiser.

A few steps at a time, you made your way towards the exit. Every now and then someone would try and make idle conversation, bumping into you and forcing a hesitant greeting. But it would only last a few minutes.

By the time you were at the doors, Aemond was nowhere to be seen. Fine, as long as he was far away from you. The hallway was grand and there were groups of people saying their goodbyes. It was the perfect getaway opportunity.

You could disguise yourself within the guests, make your way to where your parents would pass and stay with them. It would work and you’d at least be out beyond this wing of the keep until you inevitably returned. Or you could see Jericho, and then you could convince them and disappear somehow. Jericho might even help you if you explained things to him–if you asked him.

The thought that you were making a mistake began to cross your mind but just as you were at the foot of the door, an arm wrapped itself around your waist roughly, fingers digging into your hip as you were pulled away. Aemond smiled at the people who turned to look at you, their eyes trailing to where his hand burned its mark into the side of his betrothed.

You could hear your blood rushing and heart racing, your palms growing clammy. You considered struggling, maybe putting up a fight. But it would be useless. Aemond was both skilled and strong and how far would you even get before he or a kingsguard caught up to you? Your plan was a desperate, confused mess.

Of all the things happening in that moment, your mind was clouded by Aemond’s leathery, musky scent and the roughness with which he held you. The tick in his jaw and the slight purse of his lips gave away the anger he was suppressing as he dragged you through the crowd, opening the closest door he could find and pulling you in with him.

Shit.

Aemond pulled you so that you were facing him, holding your arms firmly in his hands. He all but growled, “I recall telling you not to run away, little mouse.”

Your cheeks burned and your chest felt as if it were about to explode. Aemond had brought you into a closet which was actually the size of your chambers back home but you were flush against him, chest to chest and eye to eye.

“And what? Will you have me whipped for it?” Taunting him was not a good idea but it came so naturally that you barely realised what you were doing.

Aemond turned you and pushed you into a shelf, pressed against the surface and your back flush against his chest. “I do not like disobedience. My things are to stay where I leave them.”

You struggled against him. But it was for nothing. You barely stood a chance against the man who held you, his breath tickling your ear as you spoke. “I am not something you own, Aemond. I don’t have to heed you.”

“Oh but you do,” his knee lodged between your thighs, holding you down. “Where were you going to go, hmm? There’s not a single place in this Realm where I could not hunt you down myself and you would be back here within a moon.” Aemond could feel your rapid breathing, feel the way you squirmed against him but moulded so perfectly into his body. He hummed in mock thoughtfulness. “Maybe I should have let you go. I do enjoy a chase.”

There was a seductive venom that coated his tongue. It was so unlike the boy Aemond Targaryen you had known all those years ago, who may have been riddled with arrogance and dishonesty but he was never wicked.

“What did I ever do to you, My Prince?” You gasped as he pressed himself further into you in an attempt to put an end to your struggling. Tears threatened to well in your eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aemond stilled. He thought of the words to say, the words to describe the way that a small part of him now hates that he is making you cry but years ago, the entirety of him would have despised himself for it. As far as you were concerned, all he was to you was Jericho’s acquaintance who had no patience for you. Jericho’s acquaintance who never had the perfect family that you had, never had the love that he deserved, never had what he desired the most.

He never had you.

And Aemond might have hated you for it.

“You were so blind,” he said. “So unaware. So selfish. All I had ever wanted from you was your devotion and all you gave me was resentment.”

Whether it was the gravity of his confession, or the way his body felt against yours, it took your breath away. What he was saying didn’t make sense. “I did not know. You were so cruel to me, My Prince, whatever little time we were together.”

Your chest was heavy with so many conflicting emotions. Fear, shock, anger and desire.

“You want to know why I am doing this to you?” Aemond brought his lips so close to your ear that they brushed against your skin and sent a shudder through your body. “Because I hate your brother for what he did. Because I hate your family. Because I hate you.”

A lie. But you need not know. You swallowed deeply and were he not touching you in such a way, you would have recognised the pit of dejection in your gut. But you could only think of his hands.

His hands, his hands.

They were everywhere, dragging all over your body and leaving a trail of fire on your skin. He slid his fingertips down the sides of your dress, bunching it up at your hips. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think of the words to say as the ache between your legs grew for him. It wasn’t right - Aemond was all but kind to you but your body yearned for him.

He bit your ear. “I hate you but I fucking burn for you.”

Another gasp and you arched into him. Aemond’s words burrowed deep into your core and made your head spin with unfettered lust. After it all, you would have given him everything right then and there. The desire you had for each other was infernal, it was wrong and it was perfect.

The air was thick and Aemond thought he’d choke on the concoction of lust, heat, anger and fear that was heavy in his chest. Your skin was soft like the satin of the dress he had picked out for you and it drove him crazy to think of all the ways he could indulge himself in your flawless body.

“So tempting all the time,” he touched you with so much determination you wanted to let yourself melt into him, to become one with his heart and body. “Would you let me fuck you like this? How I should have done sooner and make your bewitching body mine?”

You let out a wanton moan as his soft lips found your neck, sucking roughly along the ridges of your skin. “I do not know-”

“Of course you do not know.” Aemond let his hand slip to the inside of your thigh, roughly digging his nails into your flesh and dragging them up to the most intimate part of your body that was bare under his touch. He sucked in a sharp breath at your lack of clothing under the dress–what an enticing, oblivious girl you were–and placed his hand flat against your sensitive flesh. “I’m sure you would let me. Look at how responsive you are to my touch, such a needy little Lady. Tell me.”

The feeling of his hand against your sex and his body pressed against yours sent currents through you, right down to the tips of your toes. With heavy breaths you reached for his arm, desperately scratching his skin because you needed more, more, more.

You were blind with need for Aemond’s body, for him to make good on his words and show you all the filthy things you knew he’d do to you. The voice of reason at the back of your head told you to slow down, that it would ruin you and you would never be able to undo it.

If you gave Aemond your maidenhead here, and you managed to break free of this damned situation, you would be impure and left with no prospects of security. But all of that would be lost anyway.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from burning in the heat of his body against yours, the hardened silhouette of Aemond’s cock against your back and the feeling of his palm cupping your womanhood ridding you of your ability to think.

“Just this once,” you were breathless as you spoke, chest heaving against the hard surface of the shelf.

Aemond tensed against you in surprise, his hips pressing further against the swell of your bum. He was hard, so hard for you. “If I am going to have you have you, ñuha dāria, it will be in the comforts of our marriage. Where I can take you in every way I have spent hours dreaming about.”

You had never met a more confusing, conflicted man than Prince Aemond Targaryen. Against your better judgment, you drawled, “You said you hate me-”

“I do hate you,” Aemond growled again, swiping the pad of his forefinger over your clit in one swift movement that had you writhing in an instant. “Does not mean that I do not want to fuck you.”

You were so wet for him, so prepared for him to push his cock into you right then and it made him throb under the restriction of his breeches. But Aemond was a man of great self control and he refused to give in so soon.

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the purposeful movements of his fingers rubbing circles over your clit sending thrums of pleasure through your body. Your hips rutted against his hands, incoherent words tumbling from your lips.

Aemond was not a wildly experienced lover. And he didn’t usually take pleasure in someone else’s pleasure. But the way you trembled against him, the way that every inch of you called for his touch and the way you sounded so desperate and so filthy for him satisfied him in an entirely foreign way. It made his cock twitch and set a fire in his blood.

“Please, My Prince–I am so close,” you whined at the build up of your orgasm, recognising the intensified version of the white hot throb and the sensitivity which you felt whenever you touched yourself alone in your bed. He chuckled darkly before pulling his hand away from you.

There were people looking for him, Aemond could hear them through the door. He couldn’t care less. “That is enough for now. It seems that they are looking for me.”

You turned yourself around, still squashed between Aemond and the shelf, just to gape at him. A smug smile graced his face, his pupil blown out with lust that you could feel pressed against your thigh.

You resisted the urge to smack him again. “You jest, surely.”

Aemond stepped away from you, taking a moment to look at the mess he had made of you while slipping his fingers between his lips. Your dress was caught at your hip and hitched up at your thigh, your hair was tangled and your knees wobbled gently. But your eyes, wide and full of innocent, unburdened desire for him had him questioning his decision to stop.

How he longed to corrupt you.

“Collect yourself. I shall send Merylle to get you to our chambers,” Aemond was at the door by now, fixing his belt to alleviate the discomfort of his arousal as his fervent gaze was focused on you. Our chambers. It was a slip of his tongue. “If you ever try such a stupid thing again, I will not be so lenient.”

With that, he was gone and you were once again left alone with a mind full of wild, distressed thoughts.

tags; @toodlesxcuddles @tredegarwitch @blackravena

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

ー☆ Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 9.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Later that day

I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?

I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.

Friday (11:30 am)

I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

Friday (12:50 pm)

I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)

Friday (15:26 pm)

I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)

My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.

Saturday (9:09 am)

I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)

Saturday (17:40 pm)

I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?

I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.

“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.

“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.

“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.

“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.

“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.

“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.

But I couldn’t.

Sunday (1:01 am)

I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

『When you came along, I knew what was wrong

If you want to know exactly what I've missed』

Monday (present time)

It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.

I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.

“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”

“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”

“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”

Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.

“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.

“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.

“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”

“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.

“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”

“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”

“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.

“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.

“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”

“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”

“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”

I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”

“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.

“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”

“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”

“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.

“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.

The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.

And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.

“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.

“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.

“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”

“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”

“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.

“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”

“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”

“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.

“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”

“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”

“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”

“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”

When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”

“Can we stop talking about Min—”

“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.

“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.

“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—

“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”

“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.

“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.

“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.

“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.

“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”

A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.

“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.

Monday (16:58 pm)

I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))

Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!

And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.

As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.

Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it. And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?

“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”

And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.

“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”

“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”

“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”

I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”

“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.

“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.

“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”

“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.

“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”

“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.

“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.

“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.

“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”

“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.

“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.

“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.

“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”

“It was my idea to come here—”

“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”

Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”

“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.

“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.

I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.

“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.

“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.

“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”

“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”

“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.

“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.

“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”

“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.

“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.

“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.

“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”

I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”

“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.

“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”

“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.

Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.

“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.

“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.

“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”

“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.

“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”

“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.

“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”

“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.

“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”

“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”

“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”

“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”

Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.

“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”

When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”

“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”

Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”

There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?

“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.

“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”

“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.

“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”

“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”

“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”

“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”

“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.

“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.

“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”

“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”

“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.

“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”

When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.

“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.

I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.

“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”

“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.

“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’

I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.

“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.

“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.

“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.

“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.

“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.

“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.

“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”

“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.

“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.

I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.

Have I started falling for Song Mingi?

『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

You're what I've been chasing

Show me where my days went』

❱❱ Next chapter

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so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))

I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol

also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^

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miloformula123fan · 9 months ago

Note

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader where he's got into crash and she's worried because she thinks he'll never got the chance to know that she's pregnant? Add something you'd like. Thanks :))

ahahah, i know i just said that i was gonna halt updates, but then i churned this out kinda quick haha :)

it is kind of short though so apologies :)

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(hint hint: this closes on Thursday 1st March 0:00 GMT, so if you want to make a request do so soon because this is in a little more than a week when publishing this :))

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

fernando alonso x wife!reader

“Be safe, please, mi amor.” he held Fernando in her arms as he paused getting ready to turn around and look at her.

“I am always Carina… Podium on the cards for today haha” He smiled

“Ha, got a surprise for you after the race…if you get a podium today of course.” She looked down, smiling, thinking of the surprise she had planned.

“A nice surprise I hope carina…” He winked and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the implications of his flirty statement, and the blushes of the mechanics who had heard their conversation.

“Not that kind of surprise, but I think you’ll be happy nonetheless…” She smiled knowingly as he looked slightly puzzled before the activity seemed to pick up and was aware he needed to start getting ready.

“As long as you are feeling better than you were this morning I will always be happy.” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

She gave him his traditional pre race good luck kiss and then his helmet was on his head and he was in the car.

Y/N snuck into Nando’s room, being let in by his trainer Alex. She placed the box on his massage table. It was a pretty simple box, all that was inside was a sonogram, a baby onesie and the positive pregnancy test that was gonna change their lives.

She’d been feeling sick for a couple of weeks now, and when she’d missed her period she’s had a hunch as to what it could be, but it wasn’t until she had bailed on a triple header because she hadn’t been feeling well, that she’d had time to take the test, freak out about how positive it was.

(she’d called Mark in a panic, and then he’d added Jenson to the call in his panic and then they’d just had Mark, Seb and Jenson on a call freaking out, not helping her to calm down in the slightest, but making her laugh. Eventually Hanna had tried to work out what the fuck was going on with her husband, and had provided some actually useful advice)

Following Hanna’s advice, she’d gone to the doctors and gotten the ultrasound photo. She’d sent Hanna and Lance a photo of the ultrasound, to thank Hanna for her help in the boys panic call, and to let Lance know that he would be the godfather (she thought Nando would like that) but not to tell Nando, as she hadn’t told him yet, but she needed to tell someone. The doctor had confirmed that everything was going okay and that she was about 10 weeks along. Y/N had immediately spotted the onesie online and ordered it, preparing to tell Nando whenever she saw him. The onesie arrived fairly quickly, however, trying to keep the onesie, the test and the sonogram hidden from him for the week that he was home before the Spanish grand prix. She wanted him to know immediately because they’d been trying for so long and so many fails that it was a fucking miracle right now.

Their miracle. Their miracle baby.

Finally the week had arrived and she’d hidden the box with Nando’s personal trainer, who handed it to her after she’d given her good luck wishes to him and he’d sat in the car. She made sure to make it back for the start of the race, so as to not raise any suspicion. And then it was lights out and away they went.

The race had been going well for Fernando. Actually better than well. He was in P2, not even a second behind Perez. It had been helpful that Max had had his first mechanical failure in like 5 years, taking him out of the lead, and promoting everyone up a place. And now Fernando was contending for the lead. Y/N was so excited for him, she couldn’t wait to see him on the top step of the podium and then tell him the awesome news.

Of course then it all went horribly wrong.

Crofty’s voice filled her ears, “AND THAT’S FERNANDO ALONSO GOING FOR THE LEAD OF THE SPANISH GRAND PRIX GOING FOR HIS 33RD WIN GOING AROUND THE OUTSIDE OF SERGIO PEREZ AND THEY TOUCH AND THAT’S BOTH OF THEM GOING INTO THE BARRIERS AND OUT OF THE RACE WHICH PROMOTES LANDO NORRIS INTO THE LEAD OF THE SPANISH GRAND PRIX AND THAT’S A BIG CRASH. FERNANDO IS WEDGED BETWEEN PEREZ AND THE BARRIERS, AND HIS CHASSIS LOOKS CRUSHED and we are really hoping that he is okay there.”

“Fernando, Fernando do you copy?”

No response.

“Fernando, Fernando do you copy?”

Y/N could feel her legs getting weak, and could tell that the people around her were holding her up. She remembers being introduced to Shakira at the start of grand prix, and she complimented her nails. She could feel the nails digging into her left arm, which meant that Shakira was holding her up right now, and if Fernando's life wasn’t at threat, she might be fangirling right now. Still no response.

“Fernando, Fernando do you copy?”

No response. Their miracle wasn’t going to meet their dad

“Fernando, Fernando do you copy?”

fuck.

“And while i’m not entirely sure why Fernando wasn’t responding on the radio just then, but I can now tell you that he is walking out of the crash and he seems all okay.”

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and tried standing up while letting out wet sobs. She knew she was probably on TV right now, looking a mess, being held up by Shakira and crying when her husband was all okay, but that didn’t matter.

Because Fernando was okay.

She followed his progress on the TV as the team moved the focus to Lance and potentially getting him a win. But she tracked him until he was back in the garage and back safe in her arms. Whispering his reassurances to her.

This was also being broadcast, but she didn’t care.

He was safe and he was in her arms.

Y/N followed Fernando into his driver's room, entirely forgetting about the surprise that she had left in his room until they came in and she saw the box sitting on the massage table.

Fernando turned around to her in confusion, “Did you leave this here Carina?”

“Uhh, yeah but it’s nothing, it was supposed to be a surprise for when you got your podium, so look at it later maybe…”

Within 2 strides Fernando was at the box and lifting off the lid. There goes the plan of telling him when he was in a good mood.

Fernando pulled out the onesie, black with a message of ‘daddy’s little race engineer’. Maybe Y/N’s hormones were hitting hard today because the sight of Nando holding a baby onesie was enough to bring her to tears, imagining Nando holding their baby.

“What is this carina?”

“It’s ummm, the surprise I mentioned before…I wanted you to see it when you got your podium, so you can ignore it I guess…”

“No, no, I mean, why is there a sonogram, baby onesie and pregnancy test in here? Is Lance having a baby and wanting to let me know I was the godfather?”

“No, no, mi sol, it’s ours.”

“Ours?”

“Our baby.”

Y/N watched as Fernando processed the words. And then all of a sudden she was being picked up and spun around in a hug as Fernando cried at her.

“Our baby…oh Carina…our baby! I’m so happy right now.”

He was practically yelling, so a few team members came to see what was going on. And then walked in on a happy couple, sobbing to each other as they curled up on the floor. A baby onesie in one’s hands, and the sonogram in the other.

And all of a sudden the media could wait.

---

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grace-mint · 5 months ago

Text

A Fate Worse Than Death- Part 2

TW: Angst, mentions of torture and SA. Let me know if I miss anything.

Y'all I am so ready for this happy ending. (Spoilers: it will have a happy ending bc I can't read angst without happy endings). Also sorry it's a bit short, but I couldn't keep going without it getting way too long.

Rhysand hadn’t slept in three days. He could hardly eat or drink anything. He couldn’t get himself to care for himself, his main priority being the female lying in front of him. As much as his family tried, they couldn’t get him to eat. Only when Amren walked in and called him a ‘pathetic bastard,’ and stubbornly refused to leave until he ate, did he indulge her.

He sat in a chair in the corner of his and y/n’s shared room, far enough away from the bed, but close enough to keep an extremely close eye on her. He had smelled another male on her, dread sitting in his lower chest at the idea of what that may mean. Azriel had quickly captured her father, brothers, and the male he smelled after they found her, unconscious, and had them in his cells at the Court of Nightmares. He couldn’t get the image of Y/N out of his head. Her body was covered in blood, her arms and legs bruised and scabbed up, and her back. Cauldron her back. It was completely wrecked. Her wings were gone. It broke him to know that she lost an extension of herself. As anxious as he was for her to wake, he was grateful for the time it gave Madja to attempt to heal it. She told him it would scar, severely. The trauma her back endured from whips and knives. The trauma of her wings being cut out, in lieu of the faebane that was running through her system, was enough for her back to heal quite slowly. Madja had said it would take several weeks, if not months potentially, to fully heal. Her mind, Madja told him, was another topic entirely. Rhysand had known this, he would never expect her to bounce back from something like this. He cursed himself. Since she left for that mission he had cursed himself.

She was fine for a day or two, keeping him updated through their bond. The third day rolled around, and instead of getting his usual ‘Good morning, my love,’ greeting he was used to, he was only greeted by silence. He didn’t think too terribly much of it, assuming she was busy, but when evening had passed and still no word from her, he began to really worry. A pit of unease sat in his stomach all night. He had tossed and turned, debating whether he should leave for the camp to make sure she was okay. He had talked himself out of it, telling himself he was being overprotective, and that she could take care of herself. And she could, she was a fighter, the strongest person he’d ever met.

He told himself this again and again as he sat there in agony, watching his mate, who lay still on the bed. A knock at the door broke him from his trance. He looked up to see Azriel walking in. Az took a long look at the bed, a shadow covering his face, before he looked at his High Lord. Rhysand knew he must look like a wreck. Rightfully so. His mate had just gone through hell. No. She had gone through something worse than that, and here he was sitting, perfectly healthy, when he did nothing to protect her.

“You need to get some sleep,” Azriel said softly. He was a man of few words, only knowing when the situation warranted it or he felt comfortable enough. “She wouldn’t want you to sit here, torturing yourself over this.”

As much as he didn't want to think it, he knew Azriel was right. How could he help her recover from this… What could he even call it? Situation? Ailment? No, this was something much worse. This was the equivalent of a lost life. It was an Illyrian’s worst fear; their wings are sacred to them, and the lowest form of insult bestowed upon their race is defilement of their wings. Only a true monster could do something like this. Anger flared in his chest again, the thousandth time in these past few days, at the thought of her father. Even his father, cold as he might have been, would never even have the thought of using one’s wings against an Illyrian. He wanted to kill her father so bad. Better yet, he wanted to rip him apart, limb by limb. And here was Azriel, having the audacity to tell him to rest?

“Shut up, Az.” Rhysand snapped. “She’s just lost everything precious to her, and you are telling me to relax??”

Azriel didn’t even flinch at the tone of his voice, instead he walked over and placed a hand on Rhysand’s shoulder. “She didn’t lose everything precious to her. She still has you. Take a bath at least brother. You deserve it.”

Rhysand sat for a few hours after Az left, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. Finally, with a sigh, he got up and grabbed some spare clothes, walking into the washroom. The bath, as usual, was already filled with steaming water. He looked at himself in the mirror. He did look rough. His face was pale and gaunt, deep bags underneath my eyes, and in the eyes Rhysand looked broken. Taking off his shirt, summoning his wings, he stretched them out to their full length. Rhysand stayed there for several minutes, imagining how life would be without them. He couldn’t. His soul revolted at the idea of losing them, and he quickly let them disappear, the ache in his chest growing. He knew Y/N was going to suffer greatly, she already had. Running a hand down his face, he undressed and slipped into the tub. The warm water felt wonderful, but he didn’t allow himself to enjoy it. Rhysand cursed himself, he was wallowing in self-pity. He was the most powerful High Lord in existence, blessed with the most beautiful, most intelligent, and the most perfect mate to ever live, and yet he was still too weak.

Rhysand scolded himself once again, how could he be so pitiful when his mate is laying on their bed, still not awake. He got up from the bath, quickly toweled himself off, and got dressed. He walked back into the bedroom, hoping you might be awake, only to have that squashed by seeing you still sleeping.

He sat back down in the chair he’d been living in. He would stay by your side until you woke up.

----Y/N POV----

Hands were touching me, everywhere. They were running through my hair, down my front, my rear. I was screaming, or at least I was trying to. No sound was getting out. Panic wracked my chest, I was going to die. I was going to die right now. The hands kept exploring, and they reached my wings. Pulling on my wings. Pain sparked in my back where my wings were attached by powerful tendons and membrane. I yanked away, trying to escape. Not my wings, I screamed, the words still not escaping my throat. I shot upright, the screams finally tearing from my throat. I quickly tucked my wings around me, seeking their comfort. The dream was terrifying and all I wanted to do was to turn over to my mate and tuck myself in his powerful arms. But as I went to tuck in my wings, terror struck my whole being. I couldn’t feel my wings. I looked over my shoulder and saw nothing. Another blood curdling scream left my throat. I threw myself out of bed, attempting to run to the bathroom, but I couldn’t make it. I fell, my body off balanced without the comforting and natural weight of my wings.

“MY WINGS. MY WINGS ARE GONE.” I sat on the floor, sobs wracking my body, the pain in my back that I started to feel was agonizing. I was dying. That was the only possible answer.

“Shhhh, my love. It’s okay I’m right here.” I felt a hand on my cheek. I flinched away, throwing myself as far as possible from the touch.

“Go away! Leave me alone! Don’t take anything more from me!” Sobs broke through each of my words, the syllabus coming out choked and teary.

Y/N, darling, it’s me, it's Rhys. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay on the other side of the room, but you must calm down. A voice struck through my jumbled thoughts. Rhysand. That was my mate. Yes, I’m your mate. Rhysand. You are in Velaris, in the townhouse. We are in our bedroom.

I look up, seeing my mate in a chair across the room, like he said. His eyes were frantic and wild. He looked pale and distressed. “Rhysand?”

“Yes, my heart. I’m right here.” He slowly stood up, walking over to me. “Can I help you up?”

I nod, not finding the energy to answer. He slowly and carefully, with attention to avoid the searing pain in my back, picked me up. I don’t know how he knew where it was so painful, but I was eternally thankful as he set me back on the bed.

“Rhys, my wings are gone.” My voice cracked with my words. “Someone took my wings.”

“I know, I know. I’m going to make them pay severely. Your father will die the slowest and most painful death. I swear it to you.”

At his words, the memories came rushing back. My father, my brothers, the male who used me. My head snapped up to my mate. “You need to leave.” His face fell, “Leave? No, I don't want to leave you. You’ve been passed out for nearly 3 weeks. I can’t leave.”

“Get out. Go, I don’t want to see you,” as I said the words, my heart roared in protest. I wanted him to stay, but he couldn’t. He can’t see me like this, weak and a failure.

“Y/N, please.” He begged.

“I won’t ask again, leave.” I spat the last word out. I saw him flinch, and I wanted to leap up and beg for forgiveness, but what would he think if I told him what I let them do to me.

Rhysand, begrudgingly left, reluctance to leave evident on his face. I felt awful for kicking him out, but I needed to be alone, for his sake and mine.

I slowly stood up, wobbling, and tried to walk to the bathroom. I almost lost my balance, before deciding to just say screw it and lowered myself to the floor. I crawled to the bathroom, placing my hands on the counter, heaving myself up. The sight in the mirror shocked me to my core. My face was extremely sunken in, my body frail and bony, and my wings. The absence of my wings was devastating. It felt utterly wrong. I was wrong.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a very long time; I hated every second of it, but I couldn’t bear to take my eyes away. A knock on the doorframe forced me to wrench my eyes away. There stood Cassian. His eyes full of sorrow and anger.

“I heard you were awake and wanted to come check on you.” His voice was soft, as if talking to a frightened child. I just stared at him in silence, before turning my gaze back to the mirror. What was the point of life anymore? I was robbed of any dignity I had left. From now on my life be pitiful looks and watchful eyes from those who knew me.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I say, without turning to look at him. “Stop it. Stop treating at me like I’m an object about to break.”

“It’s okay to break, Y/N. None of us will blame you. Whatever you need or want, we will be by your side. If you want to wallow, we will be there. You want to yell and scream? We’re there to take the brunt of it. If you want to burn the world down? We will be there to light the matches.” His words went in one ear and out the other.

I looked at him once again, with no emotion in my eyes. I saw his wings poking out from behind his back and jealousy reared its ugly head in my chest. “Leave. You think you can just come in here and flaunt your wings around and act all high and mighty. You are nothing more than a bastard who crawls at his High Lord’s feet.”

There wasn’t a single part of my soul that believed the words I spit at him. In fact, I hated myself for saying them, but I wanted him to feel just a fraction of the eternal soul crushing pain I was feeling at the moment. Cassian’s expression didn’t waver at all though, instead he just tilted his head to look at me.

“Is that the best you can do? That all you got?” He was goading me on, and I knew it. But this conversation had exhausted me enough. “Goodbye Casssian, “ I said in dismissal. I didn't bother to see if he left, I simply turned my head back to look at the mirror, to look at the ugliest creature in the world. Me.

----Rhysand POV----

Cassian walked back into the kitchen, his face grim. “She called me a bastard, said I crawled at your feet.”

“She doesn’t mean it,“ Rhysand said, somewhat softly. He knew Cassian didn’t believe

her, but he wanted to remind him.

“I know. Just hurts to see her like this.” Cassian and Y/N have always had a wonderful

relationship. He was able to be the older brother she never got to have.

Rhysand poured another shot of whiskey, handing it to his brother. “She kicked me out. You should have seen her when she woke up. She was terrified. She was terrified of me.” His voice was broken. Pain seeping into his words.

“She just needs time.” He knew Cassian was right, but the ache in his chest was overwhelming at this point. Not to mention that the bond had gone numb on his mate’s side. He knew it would be bad, and he was expecting this, but he just didn’t know how to help her. “She was looking at herself in the mirror when I was up there.”

Rhysand looked over at his brother, “Can I see?” Cassian nodded his approval as Rhysand entered his mind, finding the interaction between Cassian and Y/N. The lack of emotion in her eyes and face was the most heartbreaking thing he had ever seen. She was so gaunt and thin. She was a shell of herself. And Rhysand would stop at nothing to help her find her way home to him and his family.

#rhysand x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand angst #rhysand

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the-power-of-a-pen · 1 year ago

Text

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love.

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace.

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft.

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below.

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop.

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground.

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time.

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down.

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel.

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall.

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him.

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest.

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way.

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex.

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic.

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face.

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment.

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted.

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch.

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you.

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago

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Playing Minecraft with Ellie Williams

x Builder!Reader short headcanon list

Loser!Ellie makes an appearance if you squint

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

TLOU Masterlist

Ellie Williams dating playlist made by yours truly

A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, this post is completely self-indulgent because I was playing Minecraft earlier and thought of this. I am so obsessed with the Cherry blossom biome shit that I've literally been building with it nonstop. Little update, more Cod and Resident Evil content to be posted soon.

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC?, Unrealistic, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me.

ꕥ Ellie who is definitely the one carrying the both of you during playing.

ꕥ She's the miner and you're the builder situation, she's over in the mines slaying mobs and collecting loot while you're all the way up in the quaint little survival base you built.

ꕥ Beds next to each other for sure, Ellie insists. You want your own room? Not happening, y'all are sharing one room. Dyes her bed green and effortlessly finding dyes so that you can have your favorite color as your bed.

ꕥ "Babe, look what I found!" Que to her doing the little Minecraft crouch and giving you a flower she found while exploring.

ꕥ Said flower is now proudly displayed in a pot at the kitchen area.

ꕥ Doesn't care if it's corny, you're Minecraft character will virtually kiss hers while little "mwah <3" messages pop up on the chat.

ꕥ Nerd Ellie who custom made Minecraft skins so that they both looked like you guys. (Meanwhile Jesse has a default Steve one)

ꕥ She's a completely different person when gaming with Jesse than she is gaming with you. She would literally spawn kill him just to piss him off but she'd literally hold a little fake funeral if you died (not by her hand, never by hers) and you'd respawn and see a little makeshift graveyard next to your guys' house.

ꕥ Has done speedruns before but she'd rather just chill with you. Whenever you're not around to game with her, she does little things that don't affect the build but definitely something you'll notice when you're back.

ꕥ When it's all four of you playing, you, Ellie, Dina and Jesse. It's automatic that you're always with Ellie. Jesse once accidentally killed your dog and Ellie was pissed, like "purposefully lagging his game" pissed.

ꕥ She definitely steals loot from Jesse. Poor Jesse is always the victim of the shenanigans of the sever while Dina is chilling and doing her own thing.

ꕥ Wants you on her lap whenever you're gaming, though that would be difficult if you gamed on PC so maybe keep it on mobile.

ꕥ Ellie who had to convince you to on survival with her because you always just played on creative. She promised to protect you from the scary mobs, especially creepers.

ꕥ Need materials? You got it, doesn't matter if she has to go to the end or the nether she'll go and get you what you need.

ꕥ Asks you to cook the items she hunted, joking around while with Jesse in the mines (she has lured him into lava more times than you can count) telling him she needs to go back home to her wife (you of course).

ꕥ Loser!Ellie who literally prefers gaming with you rather than anyone else, it's one of her most favorite ways to spend time with you.

ꕥ Ellie who notices how much you love the cherry blossom biome so she makes an effort to get you materials to build with. Saplings, planks, and logs. You name it, she'll get it. Even going as far as to plant it around your guys' house.

ꕥ Always leaves signs around whenever she leaves without your knowledge, she once left a sign out in your garden with "I love you - Ells <3" and you've never taken it off. It just stayed there, being part of the aesthetic of the house you made together.

ꕥ Knows random ass Minecraft facts and tells you whenever something reminds her of it. Not that you mind, you love listening to her.

ꕥ Finds mods that she thinks you'll like, if she doesn't find it she'll try to make her own mods but it's never really successful. At least she tried <3

#ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou ellie #wlw #minecraft #gaming #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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its-in-the-woods · 5 months ago

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Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 16

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here, eight here,nine here, ten here, eleven here , twelve here , thirthen here, fourteen here, Fifteen Here

master list

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning: As always minor get out Almost entirely fluff, vague suggestions of sex, lots of comfort, it's sweet and sappy

Synopsis: Updated synopsis, Monday means things are busy, but not busy enough to not go look at nice dresses.

Note: Happy Sunday y'all thanks for reading and enjoy my work it means so much to me! This is just a little bit of fluff cause we all need some.

You are lying in the bed after changing the sheets, body sore in the best of way. Windows open and the cool evening breeze comes over your skin. It’s late but the two of you were too warm to sleep. Pizza had been ordered, more drinks had been made, and more sex. You can’t help the flush that crosses your face, as you remember the evening. The man was insatiable, and you don't mind. He took care of you every time, no asking or fussing, just turning into a puddle on whatever surface he had you on. Your brain wanders over to tomorrow, of course, it did.

Tomorrow was packed, Walton had sent you an itinerary of what was going on tomorrow. It was busy. Nothing you couldn’t handle really, if set life had taught you anything it was how to handle stress. Tomorrow morning Charlotte would be coming over with some paper for you to sign, as well as a list of documents she’d need from you. It still made you nervous, but you had decided to trust Walton. No matter what, it would work, one way or another. The other thing that was happening was the red carpet event at the end of the day, you hadn’t really talked to him about it.

You slid off the bed and wandered over to the bathroom, Walton was currently shaving for tomorrow. “I kinda was hoping you’d keep the stubble” You muse, watching him work away as you lean against the door frame. His shirt covers most of you, it smells like him, smoke, vanilla something else you can't put a name to.

Walton’s hand works quickly and easily moving over the skin covered in shaving cream. It was practice movements that he had done many times, you couldn’t help but remember the scratch of the stubble on your face. He flicks the razor into the sink as he finishes up.

“Got to have a smooth face, that’s what they are asking for anyway,” Walton says quietly running his fingers over each area, before taking a town to wipe himself down with.

“So about tomorrow, what does the red carpet event involve?” You ask, you can hear the trepidation in your voice.

Walton turns to you kissing your forehead, hands running over your shoulders, “Do you want to come with me? Be my date?”

Your heart speeds up in your chest, at the thought of having several dozen photographers flashing at you. This didn't even cover the endless headlines that would surely be published the moment the photos hit twitter.

“I would love to be your date, but umm.” You let out a breath, as you followed him over to the bed, “Would it be okay if I didn’t walk the red carpet with you?”

Walton sat on the bed, those damn hazel eyes watching you, “You worried about being seen with me?” His brows furrow as the words leave his mouth.

“No, more the other way around.” You come and sit beside him, shoulder slouching a bit, “Not sure I am up for answering the questions or dealing with all the headlines.”

Walton lays down motioning for you to come lay with him. You wiggle over and rest your head against his chest, the comforting warmth and steady beat of his heart soothing you.

“If you want to come you’re welcome to. I don't think it will be as stressful as you might expect. That said, If you aren’t ready for that, then I will make sure you are escorted around the mayhem to meet me on the other side.” Walton tells you, hand rubbing up and down your arm.

You ponder this for a second moving closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his heat near you. “Maybe next time?” You feel a little awkward, you don’t want to disappoint him, but you're not sure if you’re ready for the hubbub that would be coming after the event.

Leaning down he kisses you softly, hand wandering down over your cheek. “We will have many chances when you’re ready.”

"Am I being ridiculous about this?" You push, mind reeling as you feel self-conscious about the whole situation.

Walton's face breaks into a grin, and he kisses you again, "You are never ridiculous." You can hear the tease in his voice, you pout and scrunch yourself away from him.

His fingers push under your arms and tickle at your side, you squawk and try to move away as bubbles of laughter break out of your chest. Mind blanking at as you do your best to push away him tickling at you.

"Stooopp," You giggle wriggling away from him, trying to get your own fingers to find spots but he has you pinned in a moment. "Not fairrr."

He stops kissing you again, rubbing his nose against yours. "You are ridiculous, but I only want to see you content. Even if that means I do the event on my own. "

You roll your eyes and snuggle against him, "Fine. You've convinced me. I will go with you."

Walton kisses all over your face, "You are too good for me."

***

Charlotte had stopped by first thing, the stack of papers you needed to sign was explained in detail. Some of it goes over your head, but if you had a question, she or Walton would answer them. The list of documents you need was also relatively straightforward, many of them you had already from working in film. Charlotte and you exchanged numbers, once your show was done and you were back in LA she’d help you set up anything else you might need. The whole experience left you feeling pleasantly comfortable. It wasn't nearly as mountainous as you thought it would be.

Then Terrance comes over just as Charlotte is finishing up, the two of them exchange hugs before she takes off. The man is a whirlwind of energy, clothing is laid out on the bed, along with various accessories. The man talks a mile a minute and is all hands. You have decided to sit by the window ledge letting the two men work. Currently, Walton is topless holding up two different tops as the man looks him over. Terrance grabs a couple of bracelets, they eventually land on a simple white button-up and black jacket for interviews. Then switch to a light gray suit jacket and matching pants for the red carpet event.

“And what about you?” Terrance turned to you, he is around your height with salt and pepper hair. Decked out in a well-tailored pair of black pants and flowing navy shirt, hands decorated with large rings. He looks elegant and at the same he commands the room. The man looks you over, taking in the simple blue jeans and a loose-fitting black top you are wearing. “Should we take you to get something for the event?”

You shake your head with a smile, "Oh, I am sure I can find something that will work for tonight."

Terrance narrows his blue eyes at you, turning back to Walton. "Do you have dresses hiding in your closet I don't know about it?'

Walton chuckles as he does up most of the buttons on the shirt. “Nothing that would fit her, I am afraid.”

The man sighed, putting his hands on his hips, turning back to you, "It will be my treat. Plus I doubt your man here has taken you out much."

You break eye contact and look away. Walton grins as he gets his jacket on. Walton looks over at you, “You are welcome to take him up on his offer.”

You ponder this for a moment, you couldn’t remember the last time you had gone shopping for something outside work clothes. Most of your wardrobe was black or neutral colored clothes, comfortable to wear, and easy to clean. “Umm, sure, I wouldn't mind finding something a little more appropriate.”

Terrance claps his hands together, “Excellent! Now I am excited!”

***

The first two interviews go off without a hiccup, everyone is professional and make sure you are comfortable. You find yourself easing into things, it’s not much different from working on set. Smaller crews, more intimate locations, and a breakneck pace. Once Walton is set you sit back and enjoy the filming process, listening to Walt tell stories never got old. As you arrive at the third interview Terrance stops by to grab you. Walton gives you a quick kiss as you are out the door with the man, down into the sunshine-spilled streets. The stylist is on the move, and you are doing your best to keep up as you slide into the front seat of his mini cooper.

“So how are you enjoying LA,” Terrance asks, easily moving along the busy roadways.

You shift in your seat slightly, this was the most you’ve seen of the city this weekend.“Ahh, like you said, haven't been out much,”

Terrance chuckles as he lights a cigarette rolling down the window, “Ah, a weekend that’s been more pleasure than exploration.”

You are now officially pink, swallowing, you take a sip of water before replying, “ Something like that, we don’t get many multiple days off together.”

Terrance has a small grin on his face, “That’s Walton, man loves to be busy, I have no idea how he didn’t lose his mind during the pandemic.”

“He probably did, trying to make up for lost time now. I know I was losing my mind but I also live in a shoebox.” You reply, your mind picturing Walton just running from one end of his house to the other like some madman.

“But you are moving down here though?” Terrance pries, as he turns down another busy street. You briefly wonder how the man had any clue where he was going.

You nod, “I wasn’t certain, but I think it makes sense. Looking forward to not having to live in an apartment anymore. Nice to have some space and be in a bigger city.”

Terrance pulls up to the small storefront, and you follow him inside. Despite the appearance, the entire place is beautifully laid out with amazing dresses.

Terrance is going through the racks like he is looking for the cure for cancer, all careful precision and hurried movements.

“So you’re going to be Watlon’s personal make-up artist going forward?” Terrance asks as he pulls out another dress and hands it to you.

“Yes, that's the plan, still working out details. Don’t think I’ve seen so much paperwork” You reply, eyes wide at some of the price tags. You adjust how you carry things so nothing is touching the floor.

“I am sure Walton will take excellent care of you. Charlotte is also a dear friend of mine, the lady knows her stuff in and out.” The man states, walking you over to the changing rooms. He hangs up several of the dresses humming over them. “I was going to try you in this red number, but I think I like these blue ones better.”

You slip into the room slipping off your clothes to pull the dress on. It has a corset back which proves tricky to do up by yourself. It has a scoop neckline, which you realize reveals Walton’s handy work of marks.

“Walton mentioned that he was going to be traveling again,” Terrance said, pushing the curtain open to help you tie up the piece.

“Yes, I think he mentioned that there was work lined up,” You smile, face a little flush, the dress is squishing in all the wrong ways. “I think I may need something that, umm, covers these.” You point at the marks, a small grin tugs at Terrance’s lips.

“Oh, well that changes things,” Terrance groans, immediately untying the back. He hands you a piece in navy blue with gold embroidered flowers. “I am going to have to tell him to keep the marks somewhere lower. Damn vacuum cleaner.”

A small snort leaves your mouth, as you tuck yourself back into the changing room, the thought of Walton getting scolded kept the smile there.

The zippers barely go up on this one, Terrance adjusts a tie on the side, and it slips on. The neckline covers up the marks but you feel like you are in a cardboard box. You grimace, trying to adjust the material so it looks half decent, but Terrance is already unzipping you and handing you a deep red piece.

“Haven’t seen Walton this excited about anyone in years,” Terrance quips as you come out in the red number, it's the best out of the bunch but you aren’t sure about the color.

“Oh? I haven’t really,” You cringe as Terrance fluffs the material out in a few areas, " asked about past relationships.”

“Nothing of interest really, man has needs and all that. But he’s really taken a liking to you,” Terrance says, before handing you a black dress. “He never shuts up about you, pretty sure he is smitten.”

“Yeah? I like him too,” You flush again as you peel off the latest pieces. Take a few breaths before slipping into the next piece.

You walk out feeling confident about this one. It’s tight under your bust, coming up and wrapping around your neck to cover the bruises, then flows out in whisps of tulle and satin. Terrance is smiling as he grabs something sparkling, it’s layers of rhinestones that fall over you making the dress look like it’s covered in dew.

“Oh I think this is the winner,” Terrance smiles, having you spin around. The dress is sparkling in the light, it rests just at your ankles and is loose enough for you to move freely. “Yep, I am good at what I do. Look at you, just stunning”

You look in the mirror, taken aback by how you look, “Wow. This is beautiful.”

Terrance is beaming as he takes you in, “I don’t even think we need adjustments, you are looking red carpet worthy.”

A thread of doubt curling in your mind, pushing that away, and focus on enjoying the feeling. You can’t remember the last time you put on a dress much less one this stunning. Terrance fluffing and preening you, showing how to make the piece sit just right.

“Okay, let’s get everything sorted. Few bits of paperwork, and then we will go get you some shoes,” Terrance says with a smile, you smile back before tucking yourself into the changing room. You do a silent squee, turning around in the space a few times. Stopping, you calm yourself down and change back into your street clothes.

You carefully put the dress on the hanger and step out. Terrance hands it over to one of the staff who takes it up front.

“So with the dress,” Terrance explains walking you up to the counter, “Just hang it up in Walton’s closet before you leave, I will have someone pick it up and return it here.”

“Oh, yes of course,” You reply, slightly saddened that it was a rental. Then again with the price, it only makes sense. “I will make sure it gets back to you. Thank you so much for this.”

Terrance fills out all the paperwork and whatever else is needed. Then you are whisked out to find some matching heels, and back on your way to meet up with Walton.

Terrance takes a puff of a cigarette as the two of you drive down the busy streets. “When you move down here I will have to take you out, and fill out the other half of that closet.”

“Really? I would enjoy that,” You reply, still a little taken aback by all of this. The thought of having clothes picked out by Terrance sounds wonderful. "Thank you again,"

“Of course, got to make sure you are looking your best,” Terrance says, butting the smoke out in an ashtray. “Plus, I miss working with women, so many options.”

You chuckle, pondering what the next few months might look like. Your whole world changing in the blink of an eye.

***

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, you both are at home to get ready for the last event of the night. You pull out the gown and lay it on the bed. It doesn’t feel real. You stand there, head spinning a little, how was this even happening? Were you really going to go down the red carpet, the dress was beautiful, and you had done up your make-up, so why not? You swallow, your mind is still swirling around.

“Hey,” Walton whispers, you turn to see him standing there. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so good. He always looks good, but something about the cut of the suit, the fact the last few buttons aren’t done up makes him look even better. You can see his long neck peeking out between the buttons, licking your lips as you watch him move.

“Hi,” You squeak, as you look him up and down, trying to burn the image into your mind. “I will get into this right now.”

Walton moves over, hands resting on your hips, “If you want to stay here tonight, it’s okay. It was a busy day for both of us.”

“No, I do want to come with you, ” You say, even as you worry at your lips. “Try it out anyway.”

Walton moves away, opening up a drawer on the side table, you watch him. Slightly concerned he might have something more devious in mind, instead he comes to you with a small box. You blink a few times, as he hands it to you, feeling a little nervous as you go to open it.

“I promise that it’s nothing too fancy,” He says with a small smile, his face flushing as he watches you.

You take a moment before opening up the box, inside are two silver bracelets, one slightly smaller than the other. Taking out the smaller one you slip it on over your hand, the cool metal sends a smaller shiver over your skin. Walton takes the other and slips it onto his wrist. You run your fingertips over it Walton grinning as his bracelet pulses.

“Oh? Wait-” You do the motion again, grabbing his wrist you can feel where you have touched. A small pulse vibrating against his skin as you move your fingers.

Walton grins as he watches you realize how it works. “If I am thinking about you,” He runs his fingers over the bracelet, and you immediately feel where his fingers touch. “You can feel me”

You let out a little giggle as you trace your fingers over your bracelet, watching him react to it. “Oh, this is so neat.”

He leans in and kisses you, you kiss him back wanting to stay there. He pulls you against him, holding you tight against his chest. You close your eyes and just take in the moment. The two of you locked in time wrapped around the other.

“I should get dressed,” You say, hesitant to move. The last thing you want to do is go out but know it’s important.

Walton lets you go, giving you another kiss on the forehead. You slip out of your clothes and carefully step into the dress, Walton coming over to help you do up the zippers. Then you grab the rhinestone top piece sliding it down over top. You move it back and forth until it sits right, like how Terrance had showed you, the lighting in the room making it sparkle. Walton steps back, his eyes traveling over you, you do a little spin and he grins.

“You look stunning,” He whispers, eyes going over the dress as you move in it, “It fits perfectly,”

You grin back, “Terrance knows what he is doing.”

“That he does, might have to cut the night short just so I can take you out of it,” He comes over and brings you close, fingers running over the different details of the dress.

You lean up and kiss him, “Promises, promises.”

seventeen

As always, likes, reblogs, comments are always welcome <3 You feed the parasites in my brain.

#walton goggins #fanfic #writing #writer #x reader #walton goggins x reader #walton goggins x you #fluff #domestic fluff #established relationship #long fic #multiple chapters #alternate universe #au #i make this up #i just wanted something cute okay!#down the rabbit hole

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alolynn-heart · 25 days ago

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// Hey y'all ...

So this isn't going to be easy for me to say. And I'm not really one to ask for help. But I'm currently in a very dire situation. I'll put the info here below a read more. Warning there is some negative stuff.

Update - I want to really thank those who donated from the bottom of my heart. Honestly. Every little bit helps. That being said I know my time is scarce here and given my situation. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I can keep in contact. My IMs and Discord are open if anyone wants to get updates or just chat in general. Again thank you for your help. I love you all.

Link to Paypal for donations - https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/pumpkamun

Long story short and to give context, I have been living with my ex boyfriend and our daughter. More so living in parents house. About a year ago, I was cheated on and dumped because my ex of several years had an online affair. For a while we decided to live together so we can co-parent our daughter.

I am currently disabled with a chronic pain condition that effects my spine that forces me to move very slow and hinders my ability to work greatly. Right now I'm working with a lawyer to help with a claim.

Originally I was told by my ex's family I could wait until my disability claim was approved by spring of next year (2025) Mind you that going home to my own family is out of the question. They have been extremely abusive both verbally and physically and they are refusing to let me back.

The issue now?? I'm being told I need to move out within the next 30 days (by November 19th, 2024) And I'm currently on the verge of being homeless.

All I want is to find a way to have a roof over my head and survive so I can be there for my daughter. Because of the financial situation she will be living with her father. It's just me that the is being kicked out of the household. I have contacted a social worker regarding this case.

Anyways I'm going to to provide links to my paypal account for anyone that wants to donate and kind of help. Any little bit would be greatly appreciated. Optional - In exchange the best I can offer is to make character art, sprite art, or custom icon folders.

Link to Paypal for donations -

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/pumpkamun

This being said...if anyone is willing to give a temporary place to stay. That would be of help to. But in the mean time, just any financial help would be appreciated.

Thank you for reading this

Lindsay (Pumpkamun/Lin)

#ooc #mun rabble dabbles #alolynn-heart #tw: negative #tw: homelessness #tw: disability

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plasticfangtastic · 11 months ago

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American Royalty. Epilogue.

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: Here's the epilogue hope y'all enjoy this last entry, it meant a lot to write this I just can't get enough of Dadlander fics, I hope S4 inspires me to write more dadlander fics or fics were I can put reader-chan or OCs as his spouse-- will post part 2 of the masterlist and update my pin post soon.

Epilogue

American Royalty

Homelander hurried downstairs, fighting with his tie as he rushed to the breakfast table, throwing the red string by the foot of the stairs in frustration, just stopping shyly by a mirror to make sure his hair was nicely combed, his phone buzzing in his back pocket– probably another missed call from an executive or Ashley about the upcoming shareholders meeting.

Forks and plates clink downstairs, as he makes his way past the kitchen where one of the maids is cleaning dirty pans, spotting the back of your head as you serve Ryan some juice.

“Good morning, uncle.” Said Elmo sitting on Homelander’s spot.

“Hello kid that doesn’t live here but still eats for free!”

“Father!”

“Good Morning, princess.”

He was quick to wrap his arm on your waist and kiss your temple, pulling a chair as he smoothly disarms himself from you.

He stares at Elmo who at the tender age of 15 is the same height as Homelander, he’s a muscular teen, a perfect 80’s movie jock even wearing a varsity jacket, his superhero suit a perfect match to Helena’s.

Her jacket hanging on her chair and massively oversized, a puffy bomber jacket only achieving to dwarf her small frame– it’s a strong red, and the inside liner it's made out of Homelander’s own cape, her suit tight on her with a red X framing her chest something that had now began to bother her father, her shortie gloves laid next to her coffee, Elmo's was black with a white X on his chest.

Helena and Elmo were an odd match but that was part of the duet's charm, with her stuck at 1.55 cm in height while he was already 1.85 cm and growing, she was skinny and her hair slightly longer just past her shoulders, her bangs still blocking her eyes.

But as she lifted her face away from her tablet, he was welcomed by a beautiful young girl, Helena had everything that made you beautiful, like a majestic peony– she had blossomed to perfection, so pretty he would rub it in people’s faces about just how pretty his daughter was, even the dark circles under her eyes added character to her features.

Elmo was a handsome boy and a concern, even if your daughter insisted she had no interest in the tall muscular teen, Homelander had begun to remind himself every so often that he couldn’t harm the child, he couldn’t scare him to keep him in line, for fear that Helena would lash back at him if he touched her best friend.

“No tie?”

“Don’t start princess, now eat something, we got an incredibly long day ahead lots of last minutes meetings–

“It's breakfast!” You interrupted taking a seat by his side– no work talk until you get to the office!”

He took a sip of his milk, turning to Ryan who was in an unspoken competition with Elmo about who could eat the most waffles– Ryan had grown to a handsome young man, a light stubble on his cheeks as he tried to look more mature, his hair messy, still in his pajamas which made Homelander’s eyebrow raise... somehow in this state it reminded him of Butcher specially with the growing beard.

“Excited about today?”

“A bit nervous” He chewed quickly, covering his mouth to speak– but am certain I won’t make a fool of myself in the interview”

“You will not fail the university admission interview. Godolkin would be suicidal to reject the son of Vought CMO and the brother of the Senior Vice president of research and development.” He smiles– Besides I basically pa–

“Maybe he wants to feel as if he got into Godolkin on his own!” You interjected– Ryan has been a tremendous hero, saved dozens of people and has done everything to stand on his own. You’ll do great Ryan. I’ll be there for you and so will Genevieve.”

You look to your side, her face covered in maple syrup.

She looked up, her long white hair it’s all puffy and a tad frizzy, short bangs on her forehead pushed back and her thick glasses sliding down as she tries wiping the sticky syrup off her lips, you check that her beige dress isn’t dirty.

“You’re going to take care of your big brother today aren’t you, my dove.” John said with his sweetest voice– gotta help him out when daddy is not around.”

He took a long sip of his milk, he looked past you just to get a good glimpse of his small daughter.

Genevieve had unsurprisingly been born just as different as she was extraordinary, her condition had been a source of concern at first– her vision quite poor, her skin sensitive to the sun and her eyes hurt under any harsh light but the V in her system had kept those ailments in check even if she was quick to sunburn it would heal within a day.

It had worried you as she stopped being baby, as she began to waddle towards her father that somehow Joh would cease to see his precious daughter and instead some sort genetic disappointment.

But John had adored her, every milestone was met with adulation and praise, everything he had missed with the other two he was experiencing them with Genevieve, both glued to the other’s hip, she was more than a clingy child, she refused to leave his side as a baby and a toddler-- at times she would even cried harder when hungry because she had to part her father’s side in order to feed, angry that it was you who was responsible for that… eventually you both learned it was easy to get her to latch if he was also feeding with her (for Homelander insisted on breastfeeding and no bottle) you could accuse him of being improper if he wasn’t cooing and falling asleep with your nipple in his mouth, his eyes fully glazed and his mind somewhere else, it made for an odd sight but you both didn't want broken eardrums plus it was somewhat soothing.

You jokingly teased to get him a bra with a baby bottle just to make it easier for her– as her cries every once in a while would break the glassware, he briefly considered before thinking it was too much… despite that, her clinginess brought him no grief, those 7 months he stayed home had brought a side of him you’ve never imagine he possessed, he was sweet and gentle, extremely attentive with her… the guilt on his face whenever he did something with Genevieve that he hadn’t done with Ryan and Helena would wear him down– forcing himself to part from the baby to spend time with them as much as he could, your kids went to faraway places, overseas lunches, art galleries anything they wanted just to make sure he wasn’t neglectful… only to get home and immediately remove his little dove from your arms and place her on his chest, sniffing on her hair as if he was doing lines.

By the time you both went back to work she would only really spend time in Vought’s daycare when Ashley, Ashley’s at the time fiancee or Helena’s PA weren’t available for when he wasn’t able to have her on her arms, eventually nobody minded that he had a baby in his arms, she attended meetings that Helena had no interest in and even those she did alongside her big sister, much to your daughter’s annoyance.

Everything Genevieve did made him fluster and blush, his cheeks and eyes hurting from how much smiling he did, when her first word were ‘dada’ he was born anew, you remember that afternoon as you tried to clean her diaper while he pester you to do it correctly while unable to do it himself– he hadn’t left her alone for the rest of the week just wanting to get to speak more and more, he was heartbroken when he missed her first step but got it recorded from Ryan.

She loved the new cat he’d bought for Helena for her birthday and for a while the two had a one-sided feud for his daughters affections, even more so for his little dove love who seemed utterly fascinated by the hairless goblin.

With every year his children spend with him– he grew softer and domestic, something you’ve never anticipated.

And a part of you grew more wicked as you were too happy that Ryan began to call you mom, you weren’t ‘Miss anything’ or Y/N anymore, once you found yourself cuddling him and running down the streets to not miss his school events, or staying till late to help him with a science project you were more than enthused when you realized you had become a normal family, he was your boy too.

You had grown to like this life just as much as he did.

The day he hung the cape he hurt as much as you thought he would.

Homelander had died but he did not.

He bore his scars both as a reminder of that final battle with William Butcher… a painful victory, but of proof that he had survived to see his children grow.

His face had been scarred– starting from his forehead, crossing his lips and chin to make it down to his neck.

The destruction of his face had broken him but as he saw that none of his children cared for his injury, only that he was alive and Genevieve would never knew anything else, it made it not just bearable but okay. It had been a hard road, a messy road but here he was still working at Vought, still running things and frightening every soul both above and below his station, finding his talents in Hero management taking Stillwell’s former position soon after then heading the marketing department as of two years ago.

You on the other hand had become co-owner of Lucci, after a second restaurant was opened– a more contemporary casual italian joint still serving award winning pizza but now more contemporary italian fair, part of the success had been the quality and ambiance but being Homelander’s wife did brought a fair amount of foot traffic to your restaurants– it was far from what you’ve hoped to achieve but you had a business, away from Vought’s Tower after that little accident that cost Homelander his face nearly destroyed the company.

But like the flu, it came back the next season just the same.

“So ‘The Watch’ got the green light for being debuted at the shareholder’s meeting, the rest of the team arrived last night after that fuck up with United… and we have hours of photoshoots today” Elmo said as he read his father’s message.

Even with the events that took Homelander’s cape it did not kill his worth to the company, his children now carried the burden to live up to the legacy, which meant continuing with the superhero business.

Nigel had become your daughter’s manager and with Homelander as the one running the department it was a guarantee success, Helena had cared very little about the job, only doing the tag-team work to make you and Homelander happy, to her it was only worth it as just another way to keep her foot in as many aspects of her company as she could juggle.

Tragically she had to work as a Supe and you could tell how much she hated it by the grimace she was trying to hide.

“I just said no work… that includes you Elmo.”

“Sorry Ms. Gillman but Dad won’t stop messaging me.”

Homelander looked at his phone staring at a pic of the final line-up after they arrived to the airport, proud of his selection, he had vetted them, tested them and had been working closely with all of them for their debuts… perhaps Helena’s intellect was partially inherited.

“Is okay honey… is a stressful week… 'The Watch' is a 15 year long project… The industry has had a rough couple of years but test audiences and online response has been overwhelmingly positive, so Vought is very nervous about this launch… and we know Nigel and Sven are mostly nervous about Phantasma.”

“I’m not going to fuck it up, I just don’t want to do this nonesense. I'm busy.”

“The suit gets your funding. V30 might’ve been a success but the rest of your research is dependent on your public image.”

Helena grumbled not wanting to air out dirty iodine stained laundry, she looked down to see the family cat pawing at her leg asking for bacon which she happily obliged.

You settled in the entrance, trying to apply sunscreen to Genevieve as she seemed bothered by this new brand’s smell.

“It's not that bad, my dove.” Homelander came in holding two ties in his hand but no Helena, Elmo behind him looking stressed out– you have to bear it. It's good for you”

“It's yucky!”

“Daddy and mom just want you to be safe out there in the sun… I’ll go buy you a nicer one later, I promise.” He was considering firing the maid who purchased the wrong sunscreen in the first place but he would run it by you later– but first you need to go and take care of your big brother… think of this as your own suit.” He said with a smile.

“Is not a suit! Is cream!”

Her voice was airy, he handed you the ties and took the bottle of your hands instead, kneeling to press a fresh dot on her chin, she pouted but let it happen.

As he got up you wrapped a light blue string on his neck, tying it with more ease than he could ever muster, while Genevieve skipped towards the entrance to find her brother.

“I thought we’d skip the rebellious years with her.”

“What, you think Helena is out of hers?” you lightly chuckle– Ryan wasn’t too bad tho.”

“Ryan was delightful… Helena… thank god she’s Elmo’s problem most of the time.” he said while shaking his head.

“I’m not dating Elmo!” Helena came down with a large messenger bag under her arm and her tablet in the other– even if they love us online.”

“Your dad didn’t mean it like that… more like am your babysitter”

“Say that again and I’ll break your jaw.” she said sharply.

“Always so feisty… I feel bad for your teammates.” You say as your daughter grumbles.

They headed outside bickering about the usual things.

“You look handsome.” Your hands flatten his lapels, getting a feel of his suit– I’ll take Ryan and Genevieve out for lunch so make sure you and Helena eat, don't make me call Elmo.”

“If you ignore these” he pointed at his scars and the slight drop on his left eye– "I tell you at this rate we might have to adopt this kid.”

Admittedly you two had given him his own guest bedroom, and his parents just took you as their designated babysitter as they work and traveled for work tirelessly, but when the superhero business took place it was them who handle it, as you stayed home with the other two kids… regardless in his own way Homelander was fond of the kid who also ate him out of house and home.

“I think you look handsome with the scars…” You whispered.

Your arms wrapped themselves on his shoulders, he grinned sliding his hands into your hips and into your ass, giving you a playful squeeze.

“As I always say… it makes you look distinguished… is sexy.” he smiled for the breathy voice turned him on.

“I think the older I get the worse they get…”

“Oh John… the gray hairs and the scar just makes me wanna fuck you in the coat’s closet before you head for work.” you whispered with a moan.

You kissed him, the peck turned passionate, he lifted you just enough to make a passing maid fluster, your hands trying to control themselves to not mess up his hair, you squeezed at his neck and shoulders as his tongue explored yours.

“There’s children here!”

Ryan covered his eyes, trying to rush past you two as he mimed some gagging, rushing to his bedroom to pick up a forgotten item before returning back down with a gust of wind.

“After you drop the kids… swing by the office” He leaned into your ear, his hand still in your ass– please. babe”

“Those fingers better be warm for me.”

He purred into your lips, hesitant to stop kissing you but as he heard your daughter shout about being late, he reluctantly freed you, as the maid handed you your coat.

As you followed, a small group had already formed on the street catching selfies with Elmo, Helena hid her face behind her gas mask wishing she could flip her finger to the annoying crowd as she entered the car after forcing herself to pose for some photos– Homelander waved you goodbye after kissing Genevieve.

Ryan and Genevieve are already in the car by the time the crowd disperses and Homelander’s car departs.

“What?” Ryan still looked grossed out, his ears already picked up on what his parents had discussed– hey somebody is gonna have to kept your dad in a good mood when he finds out you’re applying for the Performing Arts program”

“I shouldn’t have to lie to him about not wanting to be a superhero.”

“Being a superhero is what will get your foot in Hollywood. The indie scene can be kind to you but if you want to be the next ‘Guillermo Del Toro’ or Miyasaki– you need to keep that suit to impress future investors, producers and studios.”

“So the same thing he says to Helena… he’s going to kill me.” He mumbles.

“Just dedicate your first Palme D’Or to your father… he’s gonna kill you over making animated movies instead of ‘real’ films more likely.”

He scoffed.

“Daddy don’t get angries!.” Genevieve took a juice box out of her backpack, struggling with her little chubby fingers to remove the plastic off the straw– you guys are meanies!”

“Oh Genevieve… you’re right… Daddy is a saint” You help her out, too young to catch the sarcasm– just let me handle your father.”

You leaned towards him, placing your hand on his lightly stubbled face after handing your daughter her juice, looking at him with adoring eyes, he was your sweet boy you could almost see a younger Homelander in him… no… a young John.

“Your father will be mad for a minute but the moment he sees a whole theater room fawning after your work… when he sees you happy beaming with pride… he’ll be crying while starting a round of applause if anything he’ll be so cringy… Leave it to me… besides you’re not staying in Godolkin anyhoo.”

“NYU in two years…” He leaned into your hand– He did… made a big deal when I qualified for South by Southwest… and… he did got pretty upset about not qualifying for that other one…”

“He was looking forward to booking those flights to England” You smiled softly– let him throw his tantrum, my sweet boy. I’ll be right there if you need me, Ryan.”

“Thanks mom.”

Homelander stood beside Nigel and Ashley as the photoshoot took place, a couple heads from marketing and media relations hovered around, the director of photography assistant drone on about the shoot but Homelander paid her very attention, his sight on the computer screen analyzing the images, ensuring his daughter got the best angles, he made his way to interrupt the photographer as he picked “bad” shots, the man was used to helicopter parents trying to do his job in his behalf but superhero suit or not… nobody fail to recognize Homelander, so he listened.

“Her chin looks fat.” He mutters, the man swallows and just nods moving towards his assistant to take his camera once more, Helena scoffs ready for another round of torture– she better look perfect in these concept photos.”

The man nods rapidly.

“Show your powers a bit, princess.” He says towards her– "whose idea was to do a photoshoot in civilian clothes…?”

Homelander turned to Nigel.

“Makes them seem fresh. If they look stylish and beautiful in and out of the suit. People will eat it up… it would be easier if we could recreate what made ‘The Seven’ succeed, and other teams that try to be of that caliber but this isn’t meant to appeal to only the American market, so this works… heroes these days have to be approachable not godly figures …trying to set up a global network of superheroes alongside juiced-up V30 soldiers has been tricky.” Said Ashley-- so we gotta play perfectly."

He rolled his eyes, fidgeting with his phone, getting a glimpse at the other supes waiting for the turn or getting their make-up retouched.

“I feel like we should’ve been doing this 30 years ago to have some older supes in the different territories but this mentorship program was a genius move, Homelander, sir.” Ashley spoke proudly– but the girls are the best representatives of Vought and their countries.”

“Just shipping our recyclable waste overseas.” He chuckles in a creepy manner as his sight focuses on the other heroes– "I almost feel bad for Roman Candle, having to be stuck with Deep in Greece.”

“She has a good sense of humor about it” Ashley smiles at her direction– hopefully he stays there.”

The team was a pretty visually pleasant group, Phantasma and Poltergeist as reps of the American division, Roman Candle– a pyrokinetic Supe representing Southern Europe, the tomboy of the team, her playful pixie cut messy around her golden lyra band, her face covered in freckles, her suit a toga with a chainmail dress beneath, and armor gauntlets and boots, then there was Hex Trap– a powerful illusionist falling into her trap meant having a schizophrenia speedrun representing Northern Africa, her suit was rather casual, a victorian long sleeve blouse, leather shorts, fishnets, black combat boots, and gothic accessories, Hex was a statuest teenager, her hair long and braided and very much french-raised but they had another candidate for western Europe so Homelander handed her Norththen Africa; next to Elmo was La Tunda– a shapeshifter who could turn herself into a frightening beast, she was body positive but not offensive according to Homelander’s team, she was well liked in her country had she not been strong he wouldn’t have given her the opportunity, he had supervise her re-debut makeover– her outfit quite small and her middrift was a bit exposed but it was cheaper in the long run for her to destroy less material, and finally to her left about to have her donut re-fried was the team’s visual– Joro-Spider a successful model, a dancer, social media influencer, a real idol and the representative of East Asia, her long black hair gave her an elegant look and her black, yellow and red suit her half hoodie and sneakers gave her a cool modern look, she was the 2nd most popular after Elmo leaving Helena 3rd in her own team, it aggrevated Homelander but she was a big draw for audiences.

Homelander didn’t hesitate to laser that half-eaten donut making the girl squeal as she dropped the evaporating pastry.

“That’s your third.” She hides her face knowing not to piss him off– go wash your face.”

She runs trying not to cry.

“Ashley… why is Joro’s hair fucking neon-yellow?” He noticed the tips she was hiding in her hood– why was I not notified!?” He screamed.

“She showed up this morning like that!! We already talked to her parents but her fans” she nearly dropped her phone trying to unlock it to show him the hair reveal post, his ire calmed down at the sight of 200K and counting likes– it's a hit.”

“Tell her to come by my office after we are done here.”

Neither Ashley nor Nigel argued with him.

Late afternoon came and all he had left to deal with was the remnants of Helena’s tantrum, each photoshoot had driven her mad, and now she had locked herself in a closet, chunks of her hair trailing her path into the closet.

“Helena I can break this door, or Elmo can faze into that closet and get you out… but I don’t want to do any of that… I want you to come out. I’m not angry.”

He could see her cowering beneath some coats, he had displaced the crowd leaving them alone in the dressing room, he dropped to the ground resting by the door.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to stress you out… I know between the shareholder meeting, your research and your hero duties you have enough on your plate… but this is a big thing for the both of us… for me… it would be easier if you could just be Dr. Gillman.”

“Can I?” Her voice was a squeak.

“Not yet… not until you take over Vought… after that you can be just my perfect and sweet daughter.”

The door opened slightly, she crawled towards her dad, letting herself be cradled in his arms, sniffling loudly, her once long hair had been cut short, barely passing the lengths of her chin, it was a choppy mess even more so than before, he rested his chin on her head as he wrapped her tight.

“‘The Watch’ means a lot to me… after Butcher did this to me… after his hooligans almost took down Vought… I thought it was over but with you… with you by my side we have worked so hard to rebuild this empire… I’ve worked so freaking hard to get my crown back just for you… just so I have something to give you… I know it's killing you, but this is the only way to bring together our fractured kingdom… for you to lead this new generation of Supes to greatness. We’re American royalty, Helena… it does not come easy to have so many burdens.”

Helena clung to his suit, trying to not pout any further, trying to stop herself from crying.

“The world needs us… it needs your brilliant mind to guide it… in 10 years I don’t doubt you’ll be the head of Vought and no doubt the rest of the world’s superheroes would be under your loyal command… but we can’t get there if we don’t make sacrifices.” he kissed her head, burying his nose in her hair, as he coddled her– or you rather hand your crown to Elmo? Ryan?"

“No… You think the public will love me? I’m not you… am not pretty… I can’t actually fly… am not even that tall! And I suck with people!”

“You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world. When I was your age I was locked in a cage having to practice speaking to people via intercoms and phones… and now I give amazing speeches! Is a skill that you can learn, and flying is cool... is a great selling point but you’re strong and a genius.” He kissed her again, glad that she was still so little compared to him– You’re my daughter and your mother’s daughter… you can do it… for a little bit longer.”

“Maybe Genevieve will like being a hero… it’s hard.”

“It’d be nice if at least one of you does.” His smile is slightly forced but he can’t bring himself to be upset– just to make me happy.”

“She can fly already.” She sounded mad against his chest.

“My little dove lives up to her name… but we need to build a world for her… a world for us Supes and you’re the only one that can do that.”

“I just have to work for a little longer for mom’s and your future…” She lifted her head not trying to get out of her father’s embrace, he looked down at his hand pulling on her nose playfully– I won’t waste 10 years of hard work over some shitty photoshoot. Sorry.”

Butcher had nearly taken everything from her, she had to do everything to make sure Vought would remain, she had to protect her mother’s livelihood and her father’s too, so here she was consumed by anxiety, slashing the hair that’s been played, pulled and burnt, sprayed and washed all day– her nose burning from all the chemicals and oils.

“Let’s go back to the office… that’s enough for today… you got your daddy’s talents! There’s more than enough good shots already, shame that your teammates are so god awful at this… you did great… amazing…” he kissed her forehead gently pushing her away from him, as they struggled to stand up– my sweet girl… you will do amazing things as the head of “The Watch” Vought better watch out..”

“The world you mean.”

He looked at her hair, lifting a few choppy strands in-between his fingers, letting out a soft chuckle.

“I can make this work. Leave it to dad.” he winked.

“Thanks… dad.”

The two-day extravaganza was about to culminate, the fair and meetings had almost ended and the new international team’s first iteration had been a resounding success, Homelander had been approached by his team regarding representatives for India and a NATO backed hero for the eastern bloc, a couple names being thrown: a young man from Hungary and a young woman from Ukraine… he wanted to kept the female ratio high due to future sex-appeal and to foster audiences to view these heroines like daughters or nieces that they wanted to support and watch grow… and maybe with time also fuck– he turned to Also Ashley to politely reject all male prospectives for the time being.

He took a long sip of his ginger ale as Ashley and other execs discussed providing China with their own supe after tentatively selling some small quantities of V30 just to test the waters… he scoffed at the idea, almost colliding with Andrew their stupid CFO over it, it would be easier if he could just rip his jaw off instead of repeating himself, it was weird to be the sensible one on the table for once, leaving the room before he actually killed a man, his eyes constantly flaring as the discussion heated up.

You nudge at his shoulder, inside the basketball stadium that has been transformed to encapsulate the magnitude of Vought, there was the lounge… ‘The Seven Oasis’– the acquisition of the Brooklyn Nets and the Barclay Centre had been divisive but sports was always a good source of income– It was paying off to have your own facility especially after such aggressive expansions.

You both stared at the floor below where only 1 hour ago The Watch officially debuted, the electricity was still in the air as the girls were still on stage partaking in a Q&A, after a lengthy introductory documentary, showing their profiles and accolades.

He turned to see you in an elegant but simple cream coloured two piece suit, in your hand a glass of moscato.

“Ryan is a natural in front of the camera… remember when he was just a shy little thing?” You said resting your weight against him, he shifted lightly on his seat to make you more comfortable, as Ryan and some attractive woman hosted the panel presentation– The Patriot… he plays the role flawlessly, hard to believe it's Ryan under the mask.”

His brows lowered and his lower jaw pushed forward.

“You cannot keep giving me the silent treatment, it's been days.” You remark but he didn’t make a sound– can’t believe it took me 10 years of putting up with you for you to finally leave me alone… guess my back can finally rest.’

He put his ginger ale down, glad that the room was so private, away from the relentless onslaught of annoying execs, Joro was delighting the audiences showing her powers as she swung across the ceiling with increasingly more unpredictable and aggressive movements, it was quite the sight getting the crowd rowdy, he looked away to give you a murderous look.

“I swear we told you.”

“Don’t gaslight me. The one who does the gaslighting in this relationship it's me!” He remarked with a bark– you should’ve told me!”

“Well what’s done is done.” You tried to keep a confident look on your face– now what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do? Make Ryan hate me!? Just gotta smile like a good boy and deal with it!”

“Exactly!”

“I love you too.” He said with heavy sarcasm, He looked back on the stage listening to Elmo discussing his exploits in Ontario, his goals for protecting the America’s and looking forward to heading down to Mexico– He will continue his Superhero duties! Let him try being fucking Scorcese all he wants but he’s not taking the suit off!”

He smashed his fist on the armrest, breaking it with ease, younger you would have jumped in fright but now it was but a lull, no palpable sense of danger in his actions, you took a short sip of your drink putting it down on the floor, your ears picking up on Elmo’s answering the never ending barrage of dating rumors, being a handsome boy surrounded by a bunch of cute girls certainly put him in a phenomenal position but he treated the answer with respect saying that these girls were like family to him.

Homelander eyes spark as the question became about Helena, he awaited the idiot’s response but Elmo was more than genuine when he spoke of her like her sister, the bastard did sleep in his house enough, he even ended his answer referring to Homelander as his uncle, looking into the booth with a wink– Helena was doing her best to stay still glad that her gasmask covered half her face and her bangs hid her eyes so nobidy saw her pissed off expression, the interviewer turned to Helena about the same question.

“Too busy.” Her tone was playful– maybe when am older and not helping take care of the country! Just not with this doofus!” She elbowed him playfully.

Ryan gave her an approving nod, definitely acting like the good older brother he was, as he reviewed the next question and quickly proceeded to ask the one after.

The audience seemed happy about that, Homelander relaxed turning back to you.

“You have my support there… The Patriot won’t fade away… our boy isn’t stupid, he knows being a super puts him in a better spot than others… but I better have your support for his dreams, in the same way I have supported this grand vision of yours… in the same way you and I have supported Helena.” You rested your chin on his elbow– remember when Helena graduated from MIT… how happy you were?”

He could still see his little 11 year old in her cap, a couple murmurs irritated him as they were incredulous to see a small child on stage, he had taken the job of her driver: flying her back and forth, he was happier when she went to Cornell just to make the trips shorter, her bubble was useful but you both were too worried about her going on her own meeting planes, birds and god knows what else.

He was one of those embarrassing parents that evening.

“Am not upset about him not pursuing Crime Fighting… am upset about being lied to… of course I’ll support him! What kind of dad would I be if I stayed mad about it!?”

“I’m glad you are still doing your best.” You stroke his chin letting him kiss your palm as he follows your tender gestures– Maybe we should start heading downstairs to meet the rest of the execs… heard from Ashley, Russia is throwing some big numbers.”

“Oh geez can’t wait for ‘The Cold War 2: Electric boogaloo edition’ these fucking idiots… Where’s Genevieve? She’s probably tired or high on sugar” he started getting up leaving his mess for somebody else to clean, offering you a hand to help stand up– you look great… that skirt makes your ass look amazing, hope the whole place knows just how good my wife’s ass is…” He gave your behind a light smack as you foolishly took the lead– better than wine.”

“She’s with Ashley’s wife, and thank you… you look cute in a turtleneck… maybe I get to see you out of it.”

As you left the suite, he stopped himself by the door looking into the crowd as ‘The Watch’ began to leave the stage.

“Was it worth it? Getting married and living with me and such.”

He could hear Helena's heartbeat finally calming down, Hearing Ryan speak kindly into her ear. You stared at him unsure as to what brought this on but whatever his ear was picking up might’ve stressed him out.

“I’m happy. I don’t recognize myself some mornings. But I didn’t think I was going to make it back then, always afraid CPS or Vought would take my kid away… wondering if I had a future to give her… then I realized I don’t want to recognize that old me…”

“Sometimes I miss that voice in my head but I don’t think I want him to come back… I like this… I like us… I like the Gillman’s… even the cat, that fat lazy naked cat.”

“You love that cat, you give him chamomile and oat baths so his skin stays healthy!” You laughed thinking of Homelander and that tiny goblin mewling as he stroked his paws with some soothing balm cream made for cats– I like this too… I like that we made it work.”

“And you… you like me? Like you liked me the first time?” you were a bit incredulous at hearing this 50 year old man sound like a teen for the moment, his hand heavy on the door but jittery– I like you… like you lots.”

You blushed, trying to calm down as he swayed lightly on his toes.

“Well you certainly don’t come home covered in blood and guts as often, like when we first met… Jesus you ruined so many nice tops because you were such a messy but sweet boy… shame… I wouldn’t mind getting rid of some shirts” you giggled, you were always a little messed up, you had to be to find him lovely in the first place– I like you… a lot… so…do… you wanna go out on a date with me then?”

You twirled with your hair, biting on your lip trying to be cheesy, here you were a teenage girl asking your crush on the school yard once again.

“Y-Y-Yes!” He swallowed, looking genuinely nervous– Should I get covered in blood for our date?”

“Maybe… altho maybe we should save that up for after Ryan moves to campus, Helena should be busy at work… and I get Ashley and her wife to babysit Genevieve… they want some more practice before the adoption finalizes…so promise?”

“Promise.”

His eyes glowed in a way no superpowered laser ever could imitate, he held your hand as he closed the door behind.

You both thinking about where to go for your next date.

“Maybe we could go furniture shopping and get a singular bed for our bedroom…” He said nervously.

“Maybe” You winked at him.

The end.

A/N: lowkey want to write a sequel to thsi fic but centering on Helena as she tries to be a hero one day so this its baity, also Helena is canonically a lesbian so she'll never be with Elmo as to how Homie will react well I always write him as canon Bi but he doesn't know she's gay yet so who knows.

Taglist: @demodemo909 @ghqst-fqce @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @thychuvaluswife

#homelander #personal #the boys #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #my fic tag #dadlander #plz check my other works if you'll like my stuff #shoudl be posting all of this in ao3 during my work break my issue was that some of my earlier fics were writen straight into tumblr drafts #and copyign and pasting from tumblr its hellish on mobile as i dont own a computer

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gaspshichat · 7 months ago

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hi chat. pearl made me cry at 9:30 in the morning so y'all know what time is it. warning there will be swears [i say the f word ☹️] bc i haven't slept but i'm somehow not sick rn which. hasn't happened in weeks

[and a quick health update: pretty sure i have narrowed down what's making me sick to three possible things. i'm hopefully seeing my doctor soon bc the refill on my meds expires in june. we're so close and i haven't been able to breathe]

OH MY GOD. Y'ALL. IF YOU'RE FOLLOWING ME AND SOMEHOW AREN'T A PEARL FAN. HOW ???? GO. GO BE A PEARL FAN. IT'S A THREAT

pearl is funny and kind and caring. there is a reason i gave her 10k bits the other day. she deserves the entire world and more. i don't know what the world did to her that made her so kind

i'm not the only one who has a message though !! here are a few messages from people but i've seen so many in reblogs and tweets and whatnot

from my lovely partner tay aka twitter user PandoraRxse: I can’t catch streams very often but your videos always make me smile and I always look forward to a new upload. Keep doing what you’re doing, you’re amazing Pearl

from lovely twitter user SKYBL1NGS: shes like genuinely super funny and has great content that everyone can get into and shes really pretty and i loce pearlecentmoon

from a lovely anonymous twitter user: she is genuinly such an amazing artist, both in minecraft and in real life, all of her art is so lively in a way that i'm not sure how to describe best. also she is such a kind human being :))

from lovely tumblr user sapphicwhimsy: pearl is such a lovely and sweet person. shes SO kind to everyone in chat, new or old, and creates such a lovely environment to hang around in. her streams are the only ones i can sit through fully, and she has SUCH a lovely voice! i could listen to her read the dictionary, because im sure she would make it interesting. she has such a way to make everything interesting! even things like sitting still for thirty minutes can be something interesting in a pearl stream, because shes always got such amazing things to say. shes absolutely beautiful, inside and out, with a kind soul that matches her through and through. the fact that she always tries to read everyone out personally, and tries to pronounce their names correctly - and accepts corrections wholeheartedly - is so nice. and shes so wonderfully accepting to all of her community, and always has well wishes for everyone. shes truly a very wonderful and accepting person, who deserves the world! honestly the sweetest person ive ever came across.

anyway onto the next part of why i made this post

HOW THE FUCK IS SHE SO PRETTY. WHAT. IT'S GENUINELY UNFAIR. SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD BE A GODDAMN SCULPTURE

LIKE COME ON. I WISH I COULD DRAW SO I COULD DRAW HER. SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. WHAT THE HELL. LOOK AT HER

featuring other GORGEOUS women. my god. i am so

anyway :)) it took me an hour and a half to write this bc i kept getting distracted. in short. pearl is so amazing and wonderful. it's weird how she remembers things about me and actually cares ???

also. SHE PRONOUNCED MY NAME CORRECTLY ???? I'VE HEARD SUCH TERRIBLE PRONUNCIATIONS BUT PEARL. SHE SAID IT RIGHR FIRST TRY. WHAT. i kind of want to hear how karn would attempt to pronounce it

[bc yes. i'm okay with anyone, including streamers, calling me vyren. you know me better than my dad does. it's okay to call me vy, vyren, gasp, or gasps]

sleepy brain wrote this post and i want to say so much more but i can't. i had a better message when i did my 10k bits message but that thing is long gone. the only way pearl knows about those bits is if she sees this

and to her community: i love y'all. y'all are lovely. thanks for helping make my shitty life a little brighter. the world may not be kind to me, but y'all are. thank y'all for that. y'all are so lovely

pearl, if you see this, sending all the love to you and your three cats. and yes. karn is the third cat

#pearlescentmoon #maintagging like she is a vampire and my tumblr is my house #appreciation post #the second time i've invited her in #chat y'all better say y'all's favourite things about her #and to people who are mean to pearl: i am in your walls 🫶

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greenunoreversecard · 7 months ago

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Update

hey y'all

Uh so...... I haven't done my requests, and I am so, so fucking sorry about that.

Ive been struggling with some stuff and have debated sharing it on here, but that would mean admitting the issues affect me.

But I've decided to just say it.

Recently, I got diagnosed with hEDS (hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome)

Which was honestly expected. I've done mild research on it, and it makes sense, and it also just verified my copious amounts of joint pain is not me being dramatic.

I was also told I had dysautonomia. While I do have a vast portion of the symptoms for POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), I did not test positive as my heart rate evened out after a few minutes and stay that way. And so, because of that, I have to go to a specialist to make sure it's not anything to bad.

this one was somewhat expected I just didn't think it would be as serious as it's become. I thought it was normal.

but hey! at least I have my explanations?

another thing, I recently got told I have a small abnormality in my neck spinal area and that I have to go see a neurosurgeon just to make sure I get cleared for a physical therapy which is recommended for people with hEDS.

so I guess I've just been spending this time trying to finally let myself admit that I am not as strong as I wish I was in that these things do affect me and that they do have an emotional impact on me.

I've also been figuring out ways to minimize pain and such and what things best work for me to help keep me as normal as possible.

as I said, it's all stuff I had inklings of, it just it's really hitting me that I'm not necessarily normal to the fullest extent. And so I've kind of gotten very all over the place.

I'm not trying to make excuses I will get those done eventually and y'all already know that my posting schedule is fuckin- all over the place but I'm just saying it may take a bit more time as I grapple with my physical health affecting my mental health.

sorry for the rant and if it got sad and shit.. uhmmmm...... Whoops?

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maddstermind · 1 year ago

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Hey there, howdy, hello! Welcome to my writeblr that I am going to try real hard to be active on!

I'm Madd, they/them, and while I might not post it all here, I am a very active writer hoping for publication in the near future! I'm hoping to become part of the community, so feel free to tag me in things/shoot me asks/anything of the sort!! I'd love more writer friends :>

(Also, this is a sideblog! My main is warriorblood1, so if you get random follows/likes from that account, that's me!)

Want to know more details? Keep reading!

What do you write? I write all kinds of things! I have ideas in honestly too many genres and whatnot at this point, and I hope to someday write them all!

Right now, however, I have two main focuses: spooky short stories, and a novel series! (Though I do have a couple other novel things.)

Tell me about the short stories. My short stories tend to be 3k to 5k on average, and most wind up being horror or horror-adjacent. I tend to describe them as being "Twilight Zone-esque," but most would fit as being called gothic horror.

I have previously published some short stories, but my full legal name is on them so I hesitate to link them here. Regardless, I hope to publish a collection sometime soon!

Tell me about the novel series. Auberon Academy is a four-novel series told through a rotating POV of four main characters. It is a fantasy setting (though a bit more modern fantasy; more or less 1950s tech-wise), but the plot is more of a mystery/thriller.

I'm querying the first novel and have the first draft of the second one finished, and am now starting to draft the third book! You can learn more about the first book, Manifestations and the Missing, here in this funny slideshow I made. Update: Here's a slideshow for book two, In Pursuit of Knowledge!

What do you do besides writing? Not much. Just kidding.

I'm bad at video games, but I love to play them. A favorite hobby of mine is tabletop role-playing games, my favorites being Call of Cthulhu, Blackbirds, Dungeons & Dragons, and Vampire: The Masquerade! I also love to draw, and several of my story ideas are actually comics!

But lets be honest. Torturing my characters (canonically or otherwise) is my favorite thing to do. What kind of writer would I be if I said anything different?

How do you tag things?

General writing: #madd writing

Prompts: #prompt response

Tag games: #tag game

Ask games: #ask game

Asks: #questions

Resources: #holding

Short story work: #short story

Novel work: #novel work

Auberon Academy-specifc: #boberon

Soulbearer-specific: #sogbog

DIIE-specific: #DIIE

Cináed-specific: #dragondad

My art: #madd doodles

Other writeblr-related things: #writeblr stuff

Also, this post has the list of character tags for Auberon!

I'll also try to tag anything that feels like it should warrant a trigger warning!

Anything else to note? I'm very nervous about posting my work to Tumblr (fear of theft really gets to you), but I'm trying to overcome it. That being said, you might not see too terribly much of it here - if you're really interested, please reach out to me! I'd most likely be happy to share more on a more private level.

Also, I have ADHD! I tend to hyperfixate on my own work (which is a nightmare but also useful), but if you're ever confused by something. That's probably why.

Thanks for being here, y'all!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original writing #creative writing #writeblr intro #writeblr stuff #i hope this is decent lmao

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rickmymanrick · 7 months ago

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one rule | chapter seven

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

series masterlist

summary: the plan goes wrong. daphne and glenn find themselves in a precarious situation, but at least they have each other, right?

notes: double update. i couldn't help myself. i love this chapter so much for some reason. it just flows together so nicely to me. scratched my brain the right way.

also if you’d like to read a little bit of rick’s pov in the last chapter (6), be sure to check this out.

Glenn's POV

The plan was simple. It wasn't my walkie-talkie lying abandoned in the middle of the intersection, but I was the fastest out of the group.

If we wanted any chance at succeeding, it would have to be me.

And things were going as smoothly as possible, up until I turned into the alley I planned to meet Daryl in, finding a group of strangers instead.

"Who are you?" One of the men snapped immediately.

"Uh—um—" I had no idea what to say, wondering how to stall until Daryl got here. If shit hit the fan, the odds of me winning against three of them weren't high at all.

"He asked you a question, pendejo," said another one.

"He's got a gun," one of them observed quietly, nudging the burliest dude in interest.

Yeah and I'm about to use it on you fuckers if you try anything.

The fence behind me rattled dangerously and I twisted instinctively. The walkers had caught up, pushing against the gate in a chorus of groans.

The next movements happened too fast.

The back of my shirt was seized aggressively and I was thrown into the brick wall, my gun grabbed from my pocket and pointed against my temple.

One of the other guys grabbed my radio and showed it to the other curiously.

"Where did you get the gun, huh?" The guy who held me against the wall by the collar asked.

What the fuck do I say? What do I say? I panicked, a nervous sweat breaking out on my hairline. Where's Daryl?

"Where did you get the goddamn gun? There's gotta be more wherever they came from!" He clicked the safety off.

"Uh, I found it. On—on the road. There was just one." I lied horribly.

"He's lying," the guy with the radio sneered.

"Are you alone? Are there others?"

I thought of Daphne and how she had no clue how badly shit just hit the fan. "It's just me." I said quickly.

"I don't believe you, puto. Tell the truth before I blow your goddamn brains out!"

The fence creaked dangerously. I side-glanced, hoping it wouldn't collapse.

"I am," I winced at the harshness of the barrel.

"Glenn?"

Fuck. We all looked at the CB in the dude's hand, my heart dropping to my feet.

"Glenn, can you hear me?"

"Alone, huh?" He pressed his gun even harder and grabbed the radio from his friend. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Glenn, I'm at the store. We missed some things. Are you guys finished?"

Daph, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. Please.

"The store? Y'all found a place that hasn't been ransacked?"

I stayed silent.

"Listen to me, boy. I want you to answer her. No funny business. You understand me?" He curled his finger around the trigger.

"Okay," I gasped, watching as he brought the radio close to my mouth. He pressed the button.

"Daphne?" The first sign I hoped would give her a hint thatsomething was not right. I usually called her Daph. "Daphne, uh, we-we found Hector. Um, but I think he's with Shane."

We didn't even know a Hector. Before the fall or now. But these guys didn't know that.

"What?" She responded.

I made tense eye contact with the gunman.

"The signal must be cutting out. He's with S—Shane."

"Um, okay... can you meet me here? I think there's a good amount of things we can take back."

"Ask her where she's at," the buzzcut demanded.

"You're on the corner of Penn and Seventh, right?" I prayed to any force above that she wasn't a complete idiot.

"No, on the corner of Peachtree and Third. What the fuck is going on?"

I cringed instantly. She is an idiot.

The three men all stared at me blankly.

"I'm geologically challenged?" I winced, hoping he wouldn't shoot.

Keeping the gun pressed to my head, they began to drag me to the opposite end of the alleyway where there was a running car.

"HEY!"

Daryl came running down the alley all of a sudden, crossbow at the ready as he tried to figure out which guy to shoot at.

"Let's go!" The burly dude yelled, slamming the back door open.

Daryl got tackled by one of the smaller guys, a tussle breaking out on the concrete.

Quickly, I was thrown into the car before Daryl could break free. I watched as they willingly left the kid behind, shifting into drive.

"Let's check out this store."

Daphne's POV

I'm scared shitless.

I wasn't afraid to admit it. At least not out loud. I had no idea why I thought this would be the best option, and had less of an understanding why Glenn agreed with me.

At least Rick had the sense to disagree with the plan. Looking back, I should've just listened to him instead of being petty.

Still, I forced myself to hustle, crossing the empty streets of Atlanta with my heart in my throat.

I was alone. At first, it wasn't my preference but I didn't want to drag anyone on my side mission to retrieve our supplies we'd put aside yesterday. I knew exactly where to go and Glenn was the only one who could safely take the rest of the group back to Merle's rooftop.

I almost dropped to my knees in relief once I safely made it into the mini market tucked at the bottom of a large corporate building.

There was bound to be a few dead stragglers. They did invade this building yesterday. Creeping silently, I held my knife up (Rick gave it back to me before I left) and counted my breaths.

At 3, I lunged out behind the first aisle, ready to stab into walker skull.

There was only three and thankfully, they'd been dead for a while now. Slowly limping with flesh barely clinging to the bone. I could see their skeletons staring back at me, wasted away and rotting. Suppressing this morning's breakfast, I made quick work of the first one, stabbing into its head swiftly before the second one set its sights on me.

Its long hair swung as it turned towards the noise, limping at me with a broken leg. I grunted as it tried to grab onto me, forcing me to back away into the aisle, cans of food rolling by my feet.

"Shit," I hissed, its nails scratching the air beside me. I swung my bloody knife into its temple and grabbed one of the cans, chucking it at the last walker.

It smashed into its forehead, a chunk of skin and brittle bone falling off and effectively knocking it to the ground. Quickly, I stomped on the head without thinking, the crunch giving away to brain matter as it died beneath my foot.

I gagged as I pulled my foot out, shaking the slimy stuff off my shoe. After waiting in silence for a minute, I finally moved again. There was no sound but the rushing wind between the skyscrapers.

Fortunately, our pile of stuff was untouched. Piles of diphenhydramine, ibuprofen, antibiotics, vitamins. Packs of non-perishable food items.

I grabbed my CB, simultaneously stuffing all the medicine into my pack. "Glenn? Glenn, can you hear me?"

I was met with staticky silence. Undeterred, I readjusted some knobs.

"Glenn, I'm at the store. We missed some things. Are you guys finished?"

Dread began to fill me the longer I waited for a response.

"Daphne? Daphne, uh, we-we found Hector. Um, but I think he's with Shane."

I let out a sigh of relief before realizing what the fuck he just said.

"What?" I answered, wondering if he was on drugs.

"The—the signal must be cutting out. He's with S-Shane." Glenn's voice sounded distorted, shaky. Why did he sound so nervous?

Something definitely wasn't right. Unless I'm losing my marbles, Shane definitely threw a hissy fit and stayed at camp and we don't know a single person named Hector.

"Um, okay..." I tried to think of what to say. Were we being listened to? "Can you meet me here? I think there's a good amount of things we can take back."

It took a little longer for Glenn to respond this time. I clutched the walkie in confusion.

"You're on the corner of Penn and Seventh, right?"

"No, on the corner of Peachtree and Third. What the fuck is going on?" In hindsight I probably should have went along with what he was saying, but I got fed up and I'm clearly an idiot.

Silence.

"Glenn?"

I looked at the CB, banging it against my thigh but still there was nothing but static. I rolled my eyes, knowing Glenn can handle his own if nothing else. He'd meet me here.

I went back to the aisle where I'd left the corpses, stepping over the mess of guts and brains. I did two rounds, making a nice pile of Chef Boyardee next to the rest of our supplies.

My arms were aching as I looked down at all the stuff proudly.

"Hands up."

I jolted in surprise, feeling the cold barrel of a gun at the base of my neck.

I did as I instructed, heart pounding against my chest. I didn't know what was worse— finding another walker in here or this.

"Turn around slowly. I wanna see those hands."

I tried not to make any sudden movements, not wanting to die at 23.

Standing before me was a man with buzzed hair, tanned skin and a scowl etched on his lips. He stared at me behind his pistol, just as another man came through the broken windows on the other side of the store.

"She gave herself away," the other one snickered, stepping over the walkers and heading toward the pile behind me.

A horrible thought crossed my mind and I was paralyzed in fear of what they'd do to me.

"You play nice and I won't have to pull this trigger, preciosa."

We waited in tense silence as the other guy stuffed all the canned food in a large sack.

"Other guy had a gun. Check her too."

Other guy? They must have Glenn, Rick or T-Dog.

I made the connections in my head as he patted me down for any weapons, taking my trusty knife that was covered in walker blood.

Glenn sounded nervous, not at all his usual self minutes ago. These assholes must've taken him and tracked me through the CB. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Alright, lights out, princess."

Alarmed, I looked up at the gunman before he swung the gun against my temple hard enough to knock me out.

My head was throbbing as I regained consciousness.

"What the fuck just happened?" I groaned, rubbing my temple and trying to adjust my sensitive eyes to the brightness of wherever I found myself.

"Hey, welcome back to the world of the living."

I pushed myself up into a seated position, giving myself whiplash as I spun to look at Glenn.

He was on the ground next to me, looking as roughed up as I felt.

"What happened?" I demanded, bringing him into a quick embrace. At least he was alive. "Where are we?"

We were in a room with four white walls, empty aside from an empty medical cart and a window that was barred up. The floor was surprisingly clean.

"We ran into some guys. They took my gun. I guess their plan is to lure the others so they can steal the rest of them."

"Fuck," I threw my head down into my hands. "I practically baited them over the walkie, huh? Guns and supplies."

"Yeah," sighed Glenn. He looked utterly defeated, staring at the wall with pure regret.

The door suddenly swung open and in came the same guy that knocked me out. Two other guys came in after him.

My muscles tensed.

"Your little friends are here," he sneered at us before turning to one of the dudes. "Hermano, get them tied up."

I knew better than to try to fight back. I'm pretty sure I'm concussed.

Hastily, they put sacks over our heads and tied cloth over our mouths, the world becoming distorted and incredibly itchy on the eyelids. They tied around our hands, hoisting us up and dragging us out.

I tried to gather as much information as I could, listening for any unusual sounds but the men who were dragging us were too damn loud. Talking about a kid named Miguel and 'some hillbilly.'

Daryl.

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more terrified that they were here. God knows how many of them were in this group. How many were loaded with weapons.

A door slammed open ahead of us and suddenly the piercing Atlanta sun beamed onto our bodies, wind whipping my air around. The hand around my arm tightened, halting our walk.

"Oye!" I heard from... below?

I was dragged a few paces before the bag was roughly snatched off my head, a few strands of my hair along with it.

The sun beat mercilessly into my eyes but it wasn't the first thing I noticed.

It was the three story fall that awaited me half a step away.

I gasped against the gag, feeling the man behind me push me forward threateningly. My eyes scanned the scene below.

Daryl and Rick stood in the courtyard, weapons raised, across from a large group of armed men. I found Rick's gaze first, his eyes wide in fear. His grip on the pistol slipped the tiniest bit before his eyes hardened in anger and his lips twisted into a scowl.

He turned back toward who I assumed was the guy behind this entire operation.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and the rest of your arsenal. Everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood."

The leader looked up and I followed his gaze to find T-Dog on one of the rooftops, aiming a long-distance gun at his head.

Rick kept his gun up, his gaze once more flickering between Glenn and I before resting on me.

I wanted to shake my head and tell him to go back to camp. But my captor was holding the back of my head steady.

Our eyes remained locked for what felt like minutes before Daryl began to tug the back of his collar, slowly retreating from the courtyard.

His eyes stayed on mine until they reached the doorway and the doors were promptly shut.

"Alright, the theatrics are over," the guy who held my arm said with a sigh and loosened his grip significantly. I threw him a confused look over my shoulder as he walked me back toward the door, leading me down a staircase and taking us back to our empty room.

"I'm sorry for all the manhandling but we needed to make sure y'all weren't a threat."

Glenn and I both looked up with a startle, the leader of the group was standing in front of us looking genuinely apologetic.

"Nope," I said weakly. "Just mildly concussed."

"And you?" He looked at Glenn.

"Uh, mildly terrified."

The guy laughed and the hairs on my body stood up. It wasn't common to hear something like that nowadays.

"Look, my name is Guillermo, but everyone around here calls me G. We don't wanna hurt you guys."

"Didn't seem that way earlier," I said. "I got smacked in the temple."

"You know how it is. If you've stayed alive this long, you know you gotta protect your own."

I did understand. But I didn't believe we were in the clear here. This is the first group we've encountered since the world went to shit. Who knows what they've done to survive?

"Look, if your friends make the deal or not, you can stay here. You seem like decent people." He said with a shrug. "We need the muscle. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

I shared a glance with Glenn.

We in fact did see what he meant. My throat went dry as he led us out of the room, our hands finally untied. I stuck close to Glenn, keeping a hand wrapped around the bottom of his shirt.

This was a nursing home. Elderly people lived in each room, some in hospital beds, some playing board games with each other, others knitting.

"Are you kidding?" I asked without malice. "You had us thinking you were all some mafia."

"Appearances," Guillermo shrugged. "Hey, Judy. You doing alright?" He asked an older lady as we passed by. She waved at him with an adorable toothless smile.

"I'm hoping we can talk about those weapons you got."

We stopped at the end of the hallway, all three of us facing each other and I made brief eye contact with Glenn. Out of the both of us, I was the better liar.

"Look, what you've seen is what we've got. The guy in the cop uniform brought a small bag of weapons with him from his precinct. A few pistols, a revolver, and a rifle." It wasn't the complete truth but it wasn't a complete lie either. That was what we brought with us on this mission. Everything else was at the camp.

"That's it?" He looked unimpressed. "He didn't grab anything else?"

"It was just him. I guess that was all he could take on him."

"Where were you?"

"He joined us later on. He's from the outskirts of Georgia. He was looking for his family."

"Did he find 'em?"

"No," I lied, not fully trusting this random man. I made it a point to look disappointed, like I felt bad for Rick.

He looked disappointed as well, but likely not for the same reason. I felt a little bad for them. I could see that they weren't bad people, they'd stayed behind to care for the elderly. I could respect that.

"Y'all can make yourselves useful for now. We could use the extra help," he said.

"Uh, sure," Glenn glanced at me. I nodded at him in agreement. "What can we do?"

We ended up on housekeeping duty— checking in on the patients and making sure they weren't missing things like clean towels, soaps, blankets. Anything of that sort. I could tell we weren't being threatened anymore. In fact, the elderly seemed delighted to see us, even more so when they realized I also spoke Spanish like some of them.

My heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, my cheeks aching from how many smiles I'd handed out to all the grandmas and grandpas that greeted us warmly. No one was giving us strange or mean looks, there was not a weapon in sight.

Everything was going smoothly until one of the abuelitas came running down the hall, clutching our wrists and pulling us along with a panicked look.

"Can you help us? Mr Gilbert, he's having trouble breathing! Carlito can't find his asthma stuff!"

"We'll try, ma'am," said Glenn politely. She took us into a large room, people huddled around a hyperventilating man. We rushed over.

"I'm going to find Felipe! He—he knows where the medicine is!" She hobbled off quickly.

She returned in a few minutes, but it seemed like it had been seconds. I'd been distracted looking in every nook and cranny for an inhaler.

Felipe, the asshole that took all our chef boyardee, stood by Mr Gilbert, whipping out an inhaler and bringing it to the elderly man's lips.

Glenn and I gave each other a relieved look.

"What the hell is this?"

My head shot over to the back of the group, finding Rick standing there with a perplexed look. My eyebrows rose in confusion and surprise.

"An asthma attack," Glenn answered, barely sparing him a glance. "Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man," exclaimed T-Dog angrily.

Rick scanned me from head to toe before turning toward Guillermo. I tuned out most of their conversation, walking over to T-Dog and placing a grateful hand on his shoulder.

I knew it couldn't have been easy getting in here. Despite these people being mostly passive, they were still heavily armed. I don't even know why they want any more guns.

I gave Daryl a nod and then walked over to Rick, staying close as he followed Guillermo to the same room they put us in before.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Rick asked.

"The vatos trickle in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too, we need the muscle. The people we've encountered since things fell apart. The worse kind— plunderers. The kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are," said Rick firmly.

"How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage. Appearances."

"I guess the world changed," T-Dog mumbled.

"No, it's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The vatos work on those cars. Talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves so that's just a dream. Still, it keeps the crew busy. That's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut, except for one entrance. The vatos, they go out. Scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. The people here— they all look to me now. I don't even know why."

"Because they can," Rick said, handing Guillermo a rifle and a pistol before turning around and unexpectedly grabbing me by the wrist. I startled, looking up at him in alarm. He didn't even spare me a glance, instead leading me out into the hallway where we encountered Felipe and the other guy that knocked me out.

Just the reminder made me glare at them, rubbing my temple with my free hand. My other hand was hyperaware of Rick's warm grip.

It was silent for a moment as we stared each other down. Then he reached back and the guy who knocked me out handed him my pack. Felipe offered it to me slowly and I took it. In it— the children multivitamins and about half of the medicine we'd scavenged.

None of the cans of food though.

"Fine, keep all the chef boyardees," I grumbled, instantly annoyed once again.

"Oye, yo no te crié así!" Felipe's grandmother cried, appearing all of a sudden to give him a solid whack in the side. "En mi hogar se..."

The man gave her a halfhearted glare, rubbing his ribs tenderly.

She raised her little wrinkly hand again.

"Se comparte," he said quickly with a sigh as he took the small plastic bag she was holding. I could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked back at his abuela.

"Thanks," Rick said, his grip on my wrist tightening ever so slightly as he leaned forward to grab a few cans. He shoved them into my bag.

"Alright, well this was cool but I'd rather we go now," I quietly told Rick, leaning up on my toes to get closer.

"Yeah, yeah," he finally looked at me now. His eyes dropped to our hands as if he hadn't realized he'd been holding on the whole time. Slowly, he dropped my arm, looking back up into my eyes. My breath hitched in my throat, cheeks burning slightly as I looked at his pale blue eyes. I'd never been this close to him other than the hug he'd given me yesterday.

"I'm glad you're okay," he told me as we let the rest of the group lead us out, falling to the back easily. There was this underlying need for privacy, as if our conversation was sort of intimate.

"Thanks for coming back for us," I told him with a serious look. "You could've just gone back to camp but you stayed."

Rick gave me an incredulous look. "Like I'd leave you."

We weren't anything to each other. We weren't even friends. Just former coworkers. But the way he said that made my heart flip in my chest.

Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid crush. I felt like a giddy teenager.

Feeling a little brave, I placed a hand on his forearm. "Thank you," I looked him in the eyes, trying to convey just how grateful I was.

Maybe Guillermo would've let us go with or without Rick's interference but without any weapons or a vehicle, there was little chance we'd have made it back to camp alive.

I couldn't stay here and leave Shane, Lori or Carl behind. Even if Glenn was with me because I knew he felt the same. We'd all grown to care about each other, despite how many times I deny it. Glenn isn't the only important person in my life anymore.

We were all, like it or not, a family now.

"You don't have to thank me, ever." He grabbed a pistol tucked into the back of his belt loop and offered it to me smoothly.

I eyed it and then accepted with a small smile. "Tha—"

I cut myself off as Rick rose his eyebrows. His previous words repeated in my head.

"Sorry," I whispered, pocketing the gun with a wider smile and taking my hand off his arm.

Both smiling like blithering idiots, we rushed to catch up with the rest of the crew, heading back to reality.

"Hey, wait," I said loudly as we walked outside. "Where the fuck is Merle?"

taglist: @lovelyygirl8 @aleemendoza2425-blog @catlalice @ho3forchr1sevans

i wrote a little rick pov for chapter six if you'd like to check it out :)

#the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #twd #glenn rhee #rick grimes x daphne ayala #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x original female character #the walking dead fanfic #rick grimes #shane walsh x original female character #daphne ayala #the walking dead x reader #original female character twd #twd fanfic #twd rick #shane walsh

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