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randomshyperson · 2 years ago

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Like Real People Do - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda Maximoff is known to be a strict mother - the opposite of you. When a school incident involves your children, you two will need to learn to get along with each other. [Requested]

Warnings: General Fluff, attempted romantic comedy with opposites attract, mild making out at the end, milf wanda being adorable, brief angst for past relationships, found family. | Words: 5.733k

A/N-> My first fic of the year will be Milf!Wanda without smut? What happened to this blog, huh? I was so busy in December that I couldn't post anything, I hope you guys didn't forget about me. This is a very old request that I finished some time ago and never posted, here it is then. Good reading you all!

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

It started with a bloody nose.

It was Wednesday, which meant that you had painting class from ten to eleven in the morning, so when your cell phone rang and Principal Fury's angry voice demanded you not to be late, you could barely think of a decent excuse for your students.

The way to the municipal school was quick and even perilous - you never learned how to drive Natasha's truck properly no matter how hard you tried - but you arrived quickly at least.

America was standing with her arms crossed at the door to the principal's office - the jeans jacket with buttons you took her to buy last year had a bloodstain on the front that made your heart miss a beat.

"Mom!" Her sulky expression lit up the second she saw you - the girl uncrossed her arms and ran to catch up with you, talking too fast about the mess while you searched her face for bruises. You sighed in relief at not finding any.

"Honey, slow down, I'm not catching any words." You warn her gently, and America giggles awkwardly, taking a deep breath to speak again.

"It wasn't my fault, Mom! It was those idiots who came at us, Billy wasn't doing anything, and when they called him bad names and I just lost my temper and-"

You frown in confusion, but America shuts up because the boardroom door opens and other people come out.

The blood is not America's you realize. It's the boy with ice on his face, accompanied by an equally grumpy adult. The boy also has blood all over the front of his shirt, and from the way, America tenses up and he flinches, you understand that he has been beaten.

"Come on, don't give me any more trouble." Warned the man to the boy who practically ran out. The man waved goodbye politely, and you turned to America, ready to ask, but you heard Mr.Fury call your name.

The room was not empty. There were two boys and a woman in a suit so impeccable that you became very aware of the ink stains on your work overalls. Or maybe it was the way she looked you up and down, with an indecipherable expression.

"Mrs.Romanoff, how nice that you could join us at last." Fury pinned on your lateness, and you smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry, I was in class and my cell phone was off." You mumbled, but he didn't seem to care much, signaling for you to sit down.

America stood beside you but smiled at the boys, who smiled back immediately.

"As I explained to Mrs.Maximoff, something rather unpleasant happened this morning. Your children got into a fight with another group of classmates..."

"And where is the rest of the gang?" You asked curiously, looking around. Fury frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you said they got into a fight. Nobody fights alone. Where are the other children? I saw the other little boy who went outside looking like he got punched right in the nose, and if you told me it was three against one, then yes, we have a problem."

Fury exchanges a look with Mrs.Maximoff, but the redhead is straightening up in her chair, looking at you curiously.

The principal lets out a short laugh. "Miss Romanoff, the confusion started at recess, where America assaulted five classmates. The other four are in the infirmary and-"

You cut Fury off with excitement, turning to your daughter beside you. "Five? Kid, you've been practicing, haven't you? Damn, your mother would be impressed. "

America laughs shyly, but Fury exclaims indignantly. "Excuse me, Mrs.Romanoff, are you really encouraging violent behavior in your 13-year-old daughter?"

"It depends on what the fight is about." You mutter, but Fury sighs indignantly.

"Violence is never the answer!" Retorts the principal seriously, but his line makes the boys exclaim indignantly.

"They were the ones who attacked us first! America was only defending my brother!" Reported one of them, and you and Mrs.Maximoff exchanged quick glances at the confusion.

"That's right, we were just standing there, and those idiots came at us with curses! If it wasn't for America-"

"Quiet, all of you!" Fury cut in angrily, and the children grumbled but obeyed. He massaged his forehead. "It's clear that the fight started with America, so please could you tell me exactly why you assaulted your colleagues, Miss?"

But America hesitates and looks at the boys, who bow their heads. She sighs.

"It was something silly about grades." She lies - You can see it’s not true because whenever she tells a lie, her forehead frowns slightly and Natasha taught you to recognize everything about little Miss Chavez. You don’t understand why she’s lying though.

Fury sighs wearily. "Are you sure that's all it was, miss?"

She looks down at the floor and nods. You lick your lips.

"Fury, I wonder if we could talk alone. Just me, Miss Maximoff, and you? They shouldn't be missing class."

Fury hesitates but eventually agrees. Once the children leave, you clear your throat.

"I want to know what will be done with the group that attacked them, Fury." You state without waiting any longer, surprising a little. Nick clears his throat.

"Your daughter just clarified that it was a silly argument over notes, Miss Romanoff, you don't expect me to-"

"You know it wasn't just that." To his surprise, Wanda intervenes, sounding irritated and tired. She takes a deep breath. "It wouldn't be the first time Billy experienced bullying in his school environment, but you promised me that this school was a safe space when I came to enroll them, Mr.Fury."

Nick clears his throat clumsily, adjusting his tie. "Mrs.Maximoff, at no time-"

"America told me they insulted him." You cut in, exchanging a look with the redhead. "The kids who attacked them came in cursing Billy. That's unacceptable, Fury. You say I encourage violent behavior? No. Natasha and I taught America to stand up for herself and for the people important to her. Nat was in the military and taught her how to fight. You can't expect her to listen to someone use low insults with her friends and do nothing."

"You cannot teach your daughter to punch anyone who irritates her, Miss Romanoff." Fury retorts seriously, before turning his face to the other, "And this is a safe environment, Wanda. We have anti-bullying programs, and when the other boys leave the infirmary, they will answer for this event as well. But for now, it's your kids who need to understand that fighting doesn't go unpunished."

"That doesn't seem very fair." You mutter but Fury casts you a serious look.

"Because they insulted them? Tell me what happens when they're adults, then." You open your mouth but Fury holds up his hand, rhetorical question. "I tell you, at the very least a lawsuit for assault. I understand it's important to tell them to defend themselves, but they also need to understand how the world works. They are children, by god. You can't tell them to go out punching their way whenever someone wrongs them."

"I guess that's easy to say when we're not the ones experiencing the aggression." Wanda mutters, and Fury gives a short laugh.

"Wanda, I assure you I know the feeling of hearing horrible offenses and having to put my head down and keep walking because the punishments would be worse for me than for those who offended me." Says Nick. "Billy is only twelve, he should learn to respond to things like that in a healthy and safe way. Teaching any of these kids to respond violence with violence puts them at risk, and I'm sure you understand that." Wanda sighs but nods in defeat. Nick clears his throat. "I believe detention for a month is a good punishment."

You sigh, but Wanda hesitates. "They'd be out by three, wouldn't they? Couldn't you do it earlier or between classes? I work office hours on Tuesdays and Wednesdays..."

Nick opens his mouth but you speak first. "I can pick them up." You say casually. "They're friends with America, right? They can stay over if you need."

The redhead blinks in surprise. "Wouldn't that be inconvenient?"

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. "Not at all. America is usually alone in the afternoon while I'm in the studio. It would be nice if she had some company."

Wanda smiles at you and your stomach does a complete turn. Nick claps his hands together.

"I guess we have a deal then. Thank you both for attending, even though it was not the most pleasant of reasons... I'll keep in touch, Miss Maximoff, Miss Romanoff."

You got up first but opened the door for Wanda to pass. Outside, she seemed in a hurry, checking her cell phone, and you didn't want to hold her any longer. Surprisingly, she called you before you left for your car.

"I want your number." She declares, and you can't help the teasing expression that appears on your face. Wanda corrects herself immediately, "B-because of the ride, so I can confirm that everything is okay..."

"I know, I get it." You assure her with a laugh, accepting the cell phone she holds out to put your number in. As you type, you take the opportunity to introduce yourself properly since you haven't had the chance to do so before. Wanda smiles before doing the same. "Here you go, Miss Maximoff."

"Just Wanda is fine." She says gently, accepting the cell phone back. "Thank you again, for the favor."

"You can return it by joining me for coffee." You have no idea where that came from. And it seems to surprise Wanda as much as you surprised yourself. But there's no going back because she smiles and you know you meant it. "Or a tea, or juice. Maybe vitamin?"

Wanda giggles, and it's a charm. You glare at her but she looks at her cell phone again.

"Sorry, I have to go." She looks really disappointed, and you notice that her phone has started vibrating on a call. She looks at you again. "I'll text you about that coffee."

"I'll wait." You mumble, knowing she heard just by the soft smile she still holds as she answers the phone before waving goodbye and turning in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

You sigh loudly as you are left alone, trying to figure out where to see the strange feeling in your stomach that you think you haven't felt in years.

–//–

Wanda probably forgot about the coffee. You don't blame her, because America has every social network possible, and through her friendship with Billy Maximoff on Facebook, you are able to find Wanda Maximoff's only two social networks.

Her professional profile is impeccable. She is an important figure in a major New York company, but you are not too sure whether she is a writer or a manager, or both. Either way, with so many meetings and lectures in her feed, she is probably the busiest person you have ever met.

The only personal profile she has is a Facebook profile that hasn't been updated in almost three years. It is public, and has family photos - the vast majority with the twins - but what attracts attention is the tall man next to her. If the photos were tagged, it was removed today. There was no link to his profile. You also noticed that the relationship status was still Married, and tried to ignore the burning in your strangers with this information.

There should be no problem with Wanda being a married woman. You should have expected this, actually. In fact, you shouldn't expect anything at all. Losing Natasha wasn't exactly recent, but you weren't looking for someone to take her place. Ever.

Calling Wanda for coffee was a kind act in the interest of friendship, you convinced yourself. After all, with your antisocial nature, you didn't have many friends in New York.

America found you stalking Wanda's Facebook, however, and had a very different idea.

"She's a total milf, huh?"

You closed the laptop hard, looking at your daughter with indignation. "Excuse me, young lady?"

America shrugged. "Miss Maximoff, mom. She's so gorgeous, like a movie star. Everyone keeps staring when she comes to pick up the twins."

You grimace, hugging the laptop against your chest. "America, I don't think it's very appropriate for you to say such things to me, don't you agree?"

Your daughter laughs confusedly. "But you thought so too. You're just there stalking her on the Internet..."

"That's it, out." You stand up embarrassed, ignoring America's mischievous laughter in the hallway as you close the door. You grunt red-faced, putting your hands over your face and trying to get the image of Wanda out of your head. America shouts from the hallway:

"I'll order Enchiladas for dinner!" - You open the door just to say thanks.

To your surprise, Wanda texts you the next day.

It shouldn't really be a surprise, since the children's detention would start now, but still, you were so busy delivering some paintings that you almost completely forgot about it.

Hey Miss Romanoff, it's Wanda. Is everything okay for the kids to stay at your place this afternoon as we agreed? After detention?

You are listening to music, so you ask the virtual assistant to read the message while you continue painting one of the higher boards. When you realize who it is from, you almost fall down the stairs you are on.

Your cell phone screen smears blue paint when you pick it up in one go, having forgotten your dirty hands, and you curse softly.

Trying to sound casual, you decide on a voice message.

"Hey, Miss Max-Wanda, hey." Great start. "Sure, don't worry, I'll send you my address to come to pick them up later. And just Y/N is fine."

Wanda replies with an emoji heart, and you try to understand why yours is racing so fast.

–//–

Thomas and William Maximoff are two little devils. And America loves them, so you do too.

They play in the backyard and in the living room, surprisingly in harmony over sharing the video game after detention. You go back to work in the studio and keep the music down so you can hear them, and before you know it, the hours have passed and a red pickup truck is pulling up outside your house.

Wanda, on the other hand, doesn't seem too pleased to see that none of the children have had a decent meal after school, or done their homework. And you showing up with a dirty paint apron doesn't seem to help her judgment much.

"I don't usually cook, for the safety of the kitchen." You try to joke to ease the tension and get giggles from the smaller ones, but only a forced smile from the other, who continues with her arms crossed. "They're not hungry, you know. There were snacks and cookies..."

"Very healthy." Wanda interrupts wryly. "Get your backpacks boys, and thank them for having you. Let's go home before it gets later."

You and America watch Maximoff's hurried exit until Wanda's car disappears at the end of the street, and it is your daughter who speaks first.

"I think she likes you."

You chuckle incredulously, turning your face to America. "What gives you that idea? The deadly stare?"

The smaller girl rolls her eyes amused. "No, Mom! She didn't say she wasn't coming here anymore. And besides, Tommy told me she's kind of too straitlaced... he may have used the word crazy, but I don't think that's very appropriate for me to say."

You chuckle through your nose, ruffling America's hair as you pull her into the house with you.

"Well, the boys are your friends, so Wanda is going to have to get used to me because if there's one thing we take seriously in this family it's loyalty to our friends, isn't it, little Chavez?"

America smiles warmly, stealing a glance at Nat's painting on the wall before nodding in agreement. You check your watch.

"Maybe Wanda is right, though. What do you want for dinner? Real food. I can prepare something-"

America grimaces. "I want pizza!"

"But kiddo-"

"With plenty of pepperonis!"

You roll your eyes, unable to say no to that lovely girl.

–//–

The next day, when Billy and Tommy take out lunch boxes from their backpacks, you want to chuckle. It's so... you don't even know what to call that.

"What is that supposed to be?" America asks in a mixture of indignation and disgust, standing behind the boys sitting at the table. Tommy and Billy exchange sighs.

"It's called Zucchini Boats." Says William, poking at the snack with his fork - which Wanda also sent in her purse - "Mom is a vegetarian and so are we."

"That's what she thinks," Tommy mutters mischievously, receiving an elbow from his brother. "It's good, America. Want some?"

"No, I'm fine." Your daughter says quickly, exchanging a look with you before leaving the twins to grab some of the juice you are bringing them on a tray.

"Wow, that looks ... grown up." You comment with an impressed laugh as soon as you see the food the twins are pinching half-heartedly. "Do you guys always eat so fancy?"

"Yeah, all the time." Tommy replies grumpily. "Mom pays for vegetarian snacks at school, and it's always this kind of expensive food at the work parties she brings us to."

"Tommy, I don't think you should talk like that..." Billy whispers uncertainly but is cut off by the other.

"I can't stand eating asparagus or cabbage anymore! And I hate Lentils!" Challenges the twin, pushing the lunchbox onto the table.

America sips her juice in silence, and you sigh.

"Well, here's what we'll do then, little Maximoff." You say, picking up the bowl and some of the food that has fallen on the table. "I'll order hamburger and fries, and leave it on the counter. And you guys choose what you want to eat if you feel hungry."

Tommy loved the idea. Billy thanked him, but said he would stick with what his mother prepared. In any case, you ordered enough for everyone.

When the food arrived, you, America, and Tommy ate first. The Maximoff was very excited about eating meat - He eventually told you between bites that vegetarianism, as well as a dozen other habits, came to his family after his father passed away, and you were so surprised by the information that you could hardly nod in agreement. So Wanda was a widow like you? What a heartbreaking coincidence.

After you finished eating, you needed to continue working, and you left the children to do it. When you came back for some keys about ten minutes later, Tommy and America were playing video games in the living room and little Billy was eating French fries on the counter and having the time of his life. You didn't dare bother him.

The whole plot of Wanda and her vegetarian lunch boxes for 12-year-olds that were half going to waste - you insisted that they at least take a few bites out of respect for their mother's work - went on for three whole weeks.

It was on the penultimate day of detention when Wanda was already smiling as she came to pick up the kids, that she found out and showed up at your door during school hours.

"Sorry for the wait, I'm teaching a class." You tell her clumsily as you welcome her into the small makeshift office, while your students take a break in the studio in the other room.

Wanda hasn't even taken off her coat and is still holding her keys in her hands. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." She says. "I appreciate the favor of picking up the boys and letting them stay here, but it has come to my attention your inappropriate behavior, and I-"

"Wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt in confusion.

Wanda doesn't hesitate, adjusting her posture. "The food I prepare for my children is properly planned with a nutritionist, and William has told me about your interference in their diet." You stare at her without reaction, and she takes advantage of your shock to continue speaking. "I respect that you are raising your daughter without any attention to a healthy diet, but I cannot allow you to do the same-"

"No, wait a second there." You cut her off with a short laugh, gesturing a little and without realizing it, moving closer, which makes Wanda take a step backward in that small office. "I never told them to stop eating your fancy food."

She grimaces. "But you bought junk food!" She rations angrily. "What do you expect children to choose?"

You chuckle. "Exactly, Wanda! They are children! You're the one who's feeding them like they're 60-year-old culinary critics!"

"A healthy diet is essential for their development-"

"Billy has never eaten pizza before! Do you understand how insane that sounds?"

Wanda feels her blood boil, much like you. And she doesn't realize she's screaming, much the same as you.

"Oh, what a crime not to want to give my two children a fat bomb! Arrest me for preventing cardiovascular disease when they are adults!

"What the hell are you talking about?" You retort with an indignant chuckle, but Wanda steps forward, her gaze deadly.

"I don't tell you how to raise your daughter, so don't you dare do it to me." She says seriously, and you swallow dryly.

"I never said anything like that." You retort. "It's not a crime to offer actual good food to a child."

Wanda frowns. "My food is good!" She defends herself almost offended, but you sigh wearily.

"For the adult palate? Yes, it is. I've tasted it, you have talent I admit." You say, surprising her a little by the compliment. Her posture almost breaks. "But for the boys? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but they don't like it, okay? Especially Thomas. I didn't want you to find out like this, but he hasn't followed your all-important eating schedule in months, Miss Maximoff. He keeps buying candy and junk food around-"

"What?" she exclaims indignantly, turning away to walk around the room. You sigh. "Where does he get the money for that?"

You shrug casually. "I don't know, isn't he kind of pretty popular? Maybe he sells some toys or homework. I used to do that when I was young. And well, I give America an allowance and they hang out together a lot and-

"So you're the problem! Again!" Wanda suddenly accuses you, leaving you in shock. "You and your daughter, stay away from my boys!"

"Wanda, what...?"

But she turned her back on you and slammed the door hard on her way out. You huffed loudly, pressing your face between your hands for a long moment. Complete confusion in your mind.

–//–

You're not sure what you expected for the last day of detention, but it sure wasn't the call from the secretary about America skipping class.

You called her immediately, and to add to your despair, she didn't answer until an hour later, when you had already taken the car and were driving around town after her.

The arcade parking lot was empty because all the kids were in school. Except for a few.

You got down from the truck, and this time, you knew the blood was Billy's.

"Have you gone crazy? I drove all over town after you, America! Where-"

But she ran up to you, hugging you tightly, and you fell silent, worried. "I'm sorry, Mom!"

After massaging her back gently, you turned away to the boys sitting on the sidewalk. Bending down to Billy's height, you grabbed from the other twin the ice pack he held over his brother's bruised forehead.

"What happened, guys?" You asked, and all three of them started talking together. With a sigh, you shushed them. "Just one at a time, please."

America stepped forward. "We weren't going to skip the whole day, Mom, I promise! It's just that Tommy forgot to do his chemistry homework, so we were going to skip it so he wouldn't get in trouble!"

Tommy nods immediately. "We came here because we weren't going to hang around the school at the risk of getting caught." Continues the boy. "We were going to play and come back as soon as the next class time started."

Billy complains softly about the pain and you try to press more gently. "So?" You ask them to continue, but they don't, exchanging hesitant glances.

It is William who continues the story, his gaze in his lap. "It was the idiot brother of a classmate of ours. He was at the arcade, and he recognized me. He said he was furious that I got his brother in trouble. And he said... He said there's no place in this town for a faggy like me."

You sigh immediately, putting down the ice to hold his shoulder with your other hand. "Oh, Billy, I'm sorry."

He sniffles lightly, shrugging. "It's okay, I'm used to it. America and Tommy were buying soda, so the jerk threw me out here. As soon as they came, the guy ran off."

"It was the arcade owner who gave us the ice." America clarifies, coming over to sit down on the sidewalk across from Billy, and slipping an arm over his. "Sorry for taking so long, buddy. Next time I'm going to break his leg-"

"Hey, listen up here you three." You interrupt, looking at them seriously. "Violence is never the solution."

"But, Mom, they-"

"I know." You cut her off with a nod. "And it's unfair that it happened. And all we want to do is return that anger, but we can't be like that. Billy, I'm really sorry that you've heard cruel things. There's a place for you wherever you choose, that boy is just being an ignorant fool. Don't listen to him." You assure holding the hand of the boy in front of you. "You three are going back to school, and I'll take care of it the right way, okay?"

At first, they don't seem very willing, but eventually, they agree. You direct them back to school, and are not surprised at the increased detention Fury gives them for skipping class. Nick, however, is the one who provides the numbers of the parents of the kids who attacked them, and of a lawyer.

He comments something about having called Miss Maximoff but to no avail before thanking you for bringing the children back safely and saying goodbye.

You are walking back to your car when Wanda parks as if in a race movie.

"I'm glad you're here, Wanda, we need to talk." You announce loudly, walking to her car. She turns it off, takes out the key, and gets down, slamming the door.

"I don't have time, the director called me during a meeting, and I-"

"I know." You cut her off, and make no mention of moving out of her way, trapping her between cars. "Our kids were skipping class."

She chuckles dryly. "That's what I'm talking about, your daughter is a terrible influence. I wasn't wrong when-"

"She was helping Tommy." You cut in again, crossing your arms. "Yeah. He didn't do his chemistry homework or something, and they decided to skip the first period so he wouldn't get a scolding. Because, yes, he'd rather take his chances on the street than smear the perfect record mommy wants for him."

Wanda tilts her head. "Watch your mouth." She warns between teeth, and you roll your eyes.

"Billy got punched." You declare, and Wanda's posture breaks completely. Desperation fills her expression.

"W-what... Excuse me, I have-"

"It's taken care of, it was just a scratch I looked at it myself." You interrupt, steadying your feet in her path, and ignoring the way she looks you up and down. "But these assaults, Wanda, we need to get a handle on this."

She is surprised, in a good way. And she swallows dryly, trying to adjust her posture. "That's not your problem."

You don't care, pulling out of your pocket the lawyer's paper Fury gave you to hand to her

as you quickly explain the whole story. Wanda is unresponsive until she sniffles slightly, and this breaks your posture.

Your natural instinct is to touch her, but you hold back, clenching your hands, and Wanda turns her face away, hugging her own body as she controls her crying.

"Forgive me, I just..." She takes a deep breath. "They're all I have. And they're perfect, just the way they are. I just wanted to...do the best for them. Keep them safe, and happy. But apparently, New York is even worse than Westview."

"Hey, I understand that." You can't resist, raising a hand to her back, and thanking the gods that Wanda leans into the touch instead of backing away. "Some things are beyond our control. But I think you're doing a damn fine job, Wanda."

She raises her eyes at you. "Really?"

"Yeah." You assure her with a smile. "Your kids are great. Smart, so independent, and good-natured. Very united and loyal. You've done a really good job with them-"

Wanda hugs you tightly around the neck, cutting off your sentence. You smile, putting your arms around her just as the surprise fades. She sighs. "Thank you." She whispers, and you squeeze tighter before letting go.

"Call Jen Walters about this. Nick said she's a good lawyer." You remind her, and Wanda nods. You put your hands in your pockets and stare at her for a moment. "Were you at some fancy event? You look good."

She blushes, smiling shyly and adjusting her suit. "Something like that. Just a new book launch, so phone off. As soon as I saw the missed calls, I ran here..."

You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, I noticed the Fast and Furious you pulled out." You joke getting a laugh and a slap on the arm.

As the laughter dies down, you face each other. And Wanda is the first to swallow dryly and shift her gaze away.

"I should go there... just to make sure everything is okay." She says pointing to the school. You clear your throat and finally give her space to walk through.

"Sure, sure. I see you...?"

Wanda looks at you over her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips. "Over coffee." She invites, her smile widening with your surprise. "It's about time, don't you think?"

You nod, swallowing your anxiety. "I can’t wait." You guarantee, and when she leaves, your cheeks are flushed like hers.

–//–

Wanda doesn't call. But she doesn't have to.

The detentions are over; you're pretty sure she threatened Nick Fury on her way back to the office, but whatever she said, she made sure that the victims of the story stopped being punished. Tommy received a short warning for his duty, but the matter was soon forgotten.

You were surprised that even with the end of the detention, the Maximoff twins were on your doorstep on Tuesday. And next to them, Wanda.

"If you're not busy, I was thinking we could all have lunch together. I got some free time at the office." Clarified the matriarch, and well, you had a dozen or so orders to make and they would all have to wait because no chance at all of you dismissing going out with Wanda.

She is infinitely more pleasant company than the impression you got during your fights. She is a fierce mother, but she is so much more than that. She's brilliant, passionate, and generous. You find yourself captured by her like a work of art, which you can stare at for hours and hours, trying to absorb every detail and discover others.

Lunch turns into afternoon snacks, and into dinners. The Maximoffs show up at your house on a weekly basis, Wanda cooks for you sometimes, and at other times allows herself to eat junk food with everyone else.

And family dates become the two of you dates when she kisses you.

It takes you completely by surprise, honestly.

You have been dancing into a family routine for amazing weeks, and after one of the dinners, it gets late enough to insist that they sleep over at your place.

The boys stay in America's room, and you take over the living room so that Wanda is comfortable in her room.

When she shows up at dawn in the kitchen while you're making tea, the first thing she says is "I feel terrible about making you sleep on the couch. I can't sleep because of it."

You smile and separate a mug of tea for her too.

"I think we finally had that drink." You comment a long moment later, as you pour the tea for yourselves.

Wanda smiles mischievously. "I don't think it counts." She murmurs mysteriously, and you raise an eyebrow.

"No?"

Wanda hums in the negative. "We've drunk together a dozen times now, Y/N." She retorts, holding the cup close to her mouth. "If you want to take me out, you need to genuinely ask."

She sips her tea, and you swallow dryly as you stare into her lips. Blinking away when you notice her naughty smile, you ignore your nervousness, and retort, "I asked, you're the one who didn't call me."

Wanda raises her eyebrow, taken aback that you brought back this information from so many weeks later. She doesn't lose her composure, however. "I thought it wouldn't be appropriate when given a second thought about it."

You sip some tea. "And what do you think of us now?"

Instead of answering, she leans over the countertop. She grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you hard. Your whole body vibrates, and you gasp. But she lets you go before you have the chance to respond properly.

"I think if you don't ask me out soon, I'll have to do it myself." She teases affectedly, breathing out of breath as you do. You laugh, nodding.

"Go out with me."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that an order?" She teases, and you grunt.

"God, Wanda, come here." That's what you say before pulling her back to you, mouth to mouth.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader

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agentstarkid · 8 months ago

Text

FOREVER IS THE SWEETEST CON ✦ DR3

✦ DEBRIEF: While isolating in a hotel room, some things can't be ignored any more and, as stars fade in the dawn's light, some bonds were meant to be broken, like whispers carried away by the desert wind.

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 4.3K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: female!reader, latina!reader, established relationship, lots of angst, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, there's a nine-year age gap, forced proximity (if you squint), language.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: holis babes! before you all come for me with your pitchforks, I'd like to remind you that english is not my first language so I wanna give a big biiig thank you to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for englishing this baby and for encouraging me to write it when I told her I was thinking about it ❤️ I actually wrote this back in october and I can finally post it!! It is tied to Saudade, if you want more context to their story. This is not the end, okay?... or is it? hehe byeee

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

Wednesday, just a day before his scheduled morning session, the symptoms began to show. They knew from the moment he started to complain about his body aching all over. The uncertainty and concern were present from the first moment, intensifying when, as a precaution, he underwent several medical tests to verify whether he suffered from Covid or not. However, the first test came back negative. It was a breath of relief, at least for a moment. But on Friday afternoon the alarms went off, and the Aussie driver's negative became a terrifying positive that further disrupted the false peace that they had tried so hard to preserve in recent weeks.

Practice for the opening race was scheduled for the following Friday, and having to isolate in accordance with local regulations meant that Daniel would go into the new season without having driven the car since last month.

Locked away from the outside world, tension brewed within the confines of a hotel room. This forced proximity only served to accentuate the strains that had long been present. The fraying edges of your relationship were now illuminated under the harsh fluorescent lights, magnified by the claustrophobic confinement of quarantine.

You entered the bedroom and found him lying on the bed, wearing a navy shirt and a pair of sweats, his feet locked at the ankles and his attention focused on his phone.

“How are you feeling?”

“’m fine,” he sighed.

“Do you need anything?” you tried again.

“Nope.”

You went to lay down on your side of the bed. “Heard Lando had problems with the car today.”

“Seems the car is even shittier than last year.” He let out a dry laugh. “But I wouldn’t know because I’m stuck in this fucking hotel room for the rest of the week.”

“Look on the bright side, you’ve got a couple of extra days to relax before the craziness of the season begins.” You gave a half shrug.

“Wouldn’t exactly call this relaxing. But you wouldn’t understand.”

“What does that mean? I know how you’re feeling-”

He shook his head and huffed, dropping his phone on the bed. “No, that’s the thing. You don’t know, sweetheart. How would you know? You didn’t get a fucking positive result and was forced to stay inside these walls, watching how everyone else gets the chance to freely try out their cars before they really have to focus on the season. You’re only stuck here as a precaution. It’s funny, you know…” He snorted. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately. And it’s been fine in the meantime. But as soon as you get here—”

“Are you saying that all of this is my fault?” The tension in the room was palpable as the argument raged on.

He rubbed his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. He wouldn't even look at you — and somehow that annoyed you even more.

“Oh, I’m sorry for not being considerate enough to also get sick, it’s not like I can actually control that. But that might be my fucking fault, too. I’m too fucking busy being worried about your health. My bad.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. You turned back over to face away from him.

You felt so tired and hurt. In the last few days, these walls have felt like a battleground, waiting for you to engage in combat. And all you keep doing is try to stand tall pretending to be the bravest soldier.

It all began with the relentless hate that had been heaped upon you recently. At first, it was fine, it was expected, and you would laugh about the things they were saying. You must have been blinded by the honeymoon phase, as some people call it, but all things must come to an end. Lately, Daniel's devoted fans had turned into a fierce mob, outraged and blaming you for his performance last year, saying it was all the time he's been spending with you instead of focusing on his career. The hateful comments and messages had started to poison the relationship.

You guessed that it was easier when you were the only target. It was bearable to an extent; you could take it. Wasn't the first time it happened, and you supposed it was all part of the “big show”. But once they started targeting him too – things took a 180-degree turn.

Daniel and you had been inseparable for two years, celebrating your anniversary not too long ago. Now, you both lay silently in your hotel room; the once fiery love now reduced to smoldering embers.

He sighed and turned his head in your direction. “Babe, I—”

“It’s okay.” You mumbled squeezing your eyes shut, trying to keep in the tears that threatened to fall. “Goodnight.”

He covered his eyes with his hands; he didn’t mean to snap at you like that. He could hear you taking deep breaths, and something in his chest felt heavy. This need to bicker, to fight with you had been present for a few weeks, but lately had reached an all-time high.

The 2021 Formula 1 season had brought with it a surge of emotions that Daniel hadn't anticipated. As he settled into his new role with McLaren, the pressure to prove he was the more experienced driver in his first year with the team weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Every race was a chance to show the world that he still had what it took to compete at the highest level of motorsport. The expectations were high, and the scrutiny was relentless. Fans, the media, and fellow drivers all wondered if the Honey Badger could return to his former glory.

The season brought a mix of highs and lows. The highlight, undoubtedly, was the victory in Monza. It was a moment that should have been celebrated longer as a triumph for both Daniel and McLaren. However, amidst the jubilation, there was a bitter undercurrent of frustration. It seemed that the team's focus was already shifting to the next race, their first win in 12 years overshadowed by the relentless march of time.

Daniel's frustration grew as he watched the spotlight turn away from Monza's victory. He yearned for the recognition, the culmination of a year of hard work and perseverance. But as the season continued, the pressure only increased. The wins were non-existent, and the losses weighed heavily on him, each one gnawing at his confidence.

The expectations for the coming season were higher than ever. He knew that he had to perform at his best to silence the critics and prove that he still had that competitive edge. The weight of those expectations seemed to hang over him, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

Each race weekend would become a test, a chance to prove himself once again. The roar of the engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the pressure of the competition were all part of the Formula 1 world that he loved, but they also added to the mounting stress.

You couldn’t sleep at all.

Sleep evaded you that night. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to fix the fractured parts of the relationship. Where did it go wrong? The question replayed over and over again like a broken record.

You stretched your arm to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time.

2:30 A.M. Just a little bit less than 4 hours until the sun would come out. And 5 more days until you both would be free to leave this room.

You stood up from the bed and went to Daniel’s bedside table to look for the fingertip pulse oximeter. Once you found it, you knelt down and took his hand, careful not to wake him, and placed the oximeter on the tip of his index finger. After a few seconds of waiting for the values to remain constant, you sighed with relief when a big 98 appeared under the oxygen saturation. Thankfully, his symptoms were not of great concern, and he showed constant improvements. But you didn’t want to risk it, so every few hours you made sure to check his vitals just so you could have a little peace of mind. Especially when he was sleeping.

You couldn’t help but look at him for a moment. He looked to be in a profound state of sleep, so calm and so beautiful. His features, usually animated and lively, rested in a serene calm. You observed the rise and fall of his chest, the tranquil expressions that danced across his face, and the gentle harmony of his breathing. In these hushed moments, it was like nothing had changed, where you were still you and he was still the same Daniel that promised you that you were a team.

As you gazed upon him, your heart was a mix of conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was the undeniable warmth and affection that comes from witnessing his vulnerability in slumber. Yet, a touch of sadness lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the unresolved tension from the previous fight. The serenity of his sleep served as a poignant backdrop to your disagreements, and you desperately longed for the chance to mend the rift and return to the peace you once shared.

It didn’t take long for the tears to appear again and you couldn’t help but curse being so sensitive. You stood up; you knew that going back to bed was useless, so you headed out of the room. You ended up curled up on the couch in the dark living room of your hotel room, the soft glow of your phone screen casting a bright light on your tear-streaked face. You debated whether calling one of the girls or just text them in need of letting all this helplessness out. But you didn't want to bother them with your problems, you knew they already had enough with their owns. So, you gave up on the idea.

Your relationship with Daniel had been a whirlwind of love and excitement, a passionate journey that had weathered ups and downs, but always coming out stronger on the other side. Now, you weren’t so sure you would come out of this unscathed.

Was it time to let it go? You couldn’t help but wonder. You weren’t new to this predicament. It happened before with your last relationship. But with Harry, the revelation that it was over came naturally and gently. You both were on the same page and knew it was inevitable. But with Daniel, your heart told you to continue, begged you to keep fighting while your mind was sending out warning signals that you chose to completely ignore.

The bright Bahraini sun shone through the big windows when Daniel, out of habit, rolled over to pull your body closer and instead felt the coldness of the sheets on your side of the bed. He opened his eyes and searched around the room. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off, so you couldn’t be there. He stood up and left the room, yawning. He found you in the same place you ended up last night, curled up and holding a pillow to your chest.

The dark bags under your eyes were more prominent this morning. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of you. He got closer and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead and felt you stir for a moment before slowly opening your eyes. You rubbed your eyes before looking up at him silently.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said in a sleepy voice.

“What are you doing here?” he yawned, taking a seat on the couch as you moved back to give him space.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied in a muted voice, eyes downcast, fiddling with your fingernails.

And that was the routine after an argument: fight. One of you would try to walk away to calm down (most of the time it was you). Pretend nothing happened and go back to normal – well, whatever normal meant these days. Repeat.

A heavy silence settled between you. He leaned back on the couch, just staring at your face. He knew he should say something. Apologize even. But the words refused to come out. Meanwhile, thoughts swirled in your mind, doubts that had been lingering for a while now. Was it all in your head? Had you been the problem all along?

No.

As the seconds ticked by, the fog began to lift, and with it came a newfound clarity. It wasn't all in your head, and you weren't the sole problem. You had believed for so long it was your responsibility to make things right, to hold everything together. But it had been a shared responsibility, a partnership that had eroded in different ways.

Yes. You had both contributed to this.

You had underestimated the significance of his actions, his choices, and his words. In the process of taking all the blame, you had overlooked how he had let things slip away, how he had failed to communicate, and how he had allowed the distance to grow. You realized that it was a two-way street, and while you had been quick to accept responsibility for your part, it was time for both of you to acknowledge your roles in your shared demise.

Something within you was stirring, a growing realization that you couldn't keep shouldering the blame for everything. It wasn't fair to you, nor was it the path to a healthy and equal relationship.

"I can't do this anymore, Daniel," you murmured, your eyes brimming with sadness.

"No, no no— no we're not doing this—"

“Amor, please,” you pleaded in a whisper. Tears welled up in your eyes, but your resolve held firm. “We've been arguing about everything lately. All of this is hurting us. Your fans—”

Daniel's heart ached, but he lashed out in defense. “You know it's not that simple! I can't control what my fans say—”

Your irritation boiled over. "But you can defend me, Daniel! You can stand up for us!”

Frustration welled up in Daniel, his voice growing sharper. "I'm trying to protect what's left of my career, YN! Last season was awful for me, apart from one win, which was insignificant, apparently. I've got my own fucking problems!” He stood up forcefully and started to pace around the room.

Your anger flared and big angry tears streamed down your face. “You think it's only your career that's on the line? What about us? We're supposed to be a team, supporting each other. ‘Us against everything else’, remember? But you're making it all about you!” you screamed at him, standing up from where you were previously sitting.

He suddenly stopped in front of you. “You're too young and naive to understand the pressure I'm under. It's not just about us. It's about my career, it’s about my life! And that’s very rich coming from you,” he scoffed. “What about your fans, huh? The hate I'm getting from them and other people, it's taking a fucking toll!” he hissed. You stared at him, feeling shocked by his words. He kept going. “And let’s not forget how fucking clingy you’ve been. You suffocate me sometimes. Must be nice to have a job where you can just drop everything anytime you want and take paid vacations to follow me around.”

His words left you feeling as though the ground had been yanked from beneath your feet.

You're too young and naive. How fucking clingy you’ve been — You suffocate me sometimes. His words echoed incessantly in your mind like a stuck playback.

When did the insecurities shared transform into arrows, aimed at your most profound wounds?

You snapped, “You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. And I warned you. I gave you an out so many times, but you decided to stay.” A bitter laugh left your mouth. “You said I was the greatest risk you’ve ever taken and the greatest reward—”

“And I did think that, YN,” he uttered. “We lived inside a bubble for so long, but reality is different. Maybe we rushed into this too soon.”

“Come on, bury my heart deeper, Danielito. If that's what you're trying to do— it's working,” you said with a pained smile, eyes only focused on him.

The room seemed to grow colder, and your voices decreased in volume. But the damage had been done. Daniel realized the pain his words had caused, but his own frustration clouded his judgment. “This wouldn’t even be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it,” he muttered bitterly.

“Please, don’t make this worse than it already is,” you agonized; your voice was shaky. Invisible claws of grief and anguish were tearing at the muscles and tendons in your chest. You never knew that emotions could possess such tangible, physical presence.

“If only we had met on different grounds. Then maybe things would have been different, we would be different.”

You couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire. You lacked the capacity for a graceful exit, and if you were aflame, you'd ensure that he, too, would turn to ashes. “Do you mean what if I was different?” A new wave of anger swept over you.

That question caught him off guard, forcing Daniel to pause and stare at you, honest surprise and confusion coloring his face. “What?”

Your voice trembled with a mix of frustration and hurt as you confronted him. “Heidi's constant presence in the paddock these past few months, the way you've been talking to her, and how people are speculating about you two... It's causing me to doubt myself and my place in your life.”

Daniel's brows furrowed, and his voice carried irritation. “YN, this is ridiculous. Heidi is just a friend. We've been through this countless times.”

You inched forward as you tried to make him understand. “I know she's your friend, but the way you've been spending time with her lately... it's different. I can't shake off the feeling that there might be something more.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, his frustration mounting. “You're being crazy, YN. We're just friends, and it's unfair of you to accuse me, and especially her, like this.” In a further defensive move, he shot back, “You're the one who had those cheating rumors circulating, not me. You should know how destructive and unfounded these accusations can be. And now, you're doing the same thing with Heidi?��

It felt like a hard punch to your gut, you took in a sharp breath, “So, you're bringing this up again? We already cleared the air about those false accusations when they hit us. I would never dare cheat on you!” Your frustration was palpable.

“And why is it so fucking hard to believe I wouldn’t either?” Suddenly, you could clearly see how sadness clouded his features.

The room seemed to close in around you both. Then, all of a sudden, you realized that healing from this and moving forward required a level of understanding and compassion that seemed beyond reach in the heat of this argument.

In that moment, you knew for certain that it was over. The love you had once celebrated, the memories you had shared, now felt like distant echoes of a happier time.

How did you both allow things to spiral into such chaos? This living room had transformed into a battleground, where words cut like knives. Where were the Daniel and YN who were deeply in love? The ones who, for the first time, felt safe to be vulnerable and discuss a future they had envisioned together; one with a couple of tiny little feet running around the farm in a couple of years and joking about how wild a perfect mix of Australian and Latino genes would be. Now, you stood face to face, unrecognizable, refusing to show any sign of surrender.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end at all.

The silence in the room was suffocating. All the energy and adrenaline left your body at once. You felt emotionally drained, as though a storm had swept through your heart and left it battered and exhausted.

You took a sit back on the couch and ran your hands across your face, squeezing your eyes shut. “We can't go on like this.”

So, this is it, Daniel thought. Dread twisted in his gut; he felt like he might throw up. His shoulders slumped and he raked his fingers through his hair as he took a seat next to you. The vulnerability in your words cut him deeply, but he understood the gravity of the situation. "You're right," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. “We tried, didn’t we? We gave it our best shot” a sad smile adorned his tired face. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” he murmured as tears shone in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, too. I wanted to make it work. I always just wanted to be the one.” Your heart seemed to shatter into even smaller fragments. As you wiped away a single tear that trickled down your cheek, the physical act of brushing it away only served to accentuate the profound pain that had settled within your chest. It felt as though each tear carried with it a piece of your shattered dreams and the love that was now slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. In that fleeting moment, your heartache intensified, and you realized that this breakup was leaving you more broken than you had ever thought possible.

As the final words echoed in the room, you, your tears spent, turned and walked out into the bedroom, leaving Daniel alone with the weight of what had just transpired.

As soon as you left the room, you locked yourself in the bathroom and texted Blake. You asked him if there was any chance, he could talk to the hotel so you could get another room for the remaining time you had to be in quarantine. The request took him by complete surprise, and you explained shortly that Daniel and you had just broken up.

He assured you he was going to do everything in his power to get you a new room. You were sure that as soon as you hung up the phone, he was already texting Daniel asking for a better explanation.

As you sat on the bathroom floor, the pain was all-encompassing, a relentless throb deep within your chest that left you gasping for air. It felt as though a gaping void had taken up residence in your heart, and you weren’t sure how to fill it.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Numbness had started to settle in. A surreal feeling that this couldn't be real, that you would wake up from this nightmare at any moment. You wished that a switch would flip and make it all go away, but the pain persisted.

Bitterness and anger boiled within you. You felt wronged by the universe, by the cruel twist of fate that had torn you both apart. You resented the public scrutiny, the relentless judgment from fans and strangers alike, and the demands of your high-profile careers.

You felt unbearably alone. You longed for Daniel’s presence, for the familiar comfort of his arms, but he was no longer yours to hold. Your heart ached for the man you thought, for a short period, you would spend the rest of your life with, even though you knew that was no longer possible. The pain of heartbreak was, for you, an agonizing and inescapable reality, and you had yet to discover how to heal and move forward.

Turns out Blake went beyond of what you initially asked for. He arranged for you to take the PCR test again to confirm that you had not contracted the virus while sharing a room with Daniel.

After two slow and torturous days, where you spent your time curled up on the couch and Daniel spent his in the bedroom — a decision you made, he was the sick one after all. After two consecutive negative results, you were given the green light to leave. You had already packed your things after your call with Blake a few days ago, hoping you could change rooms. He had asked you if you needed anything else, saying he was willing to facilitate everything for you. He saw you as a fundamental part of this little dysfunctional family and had developed a deep affection for you. You couldn’t thank him enough.

Soon you had a plane waiting to take you back to L.A., to a house, not a home, all alone. You were leaving behind what you've come to realize was your home in the last two years.

You awkwardly said goodbye to Daniel. Your voice sounded tired, while he shifted on his feet on the threshold of the bedroom door. Curls wild, beard a bit longer than the past days and the bags under his eyes looked even more prominent. Despite the visible signs of weariness on both of you, you still couldn't draw any solace from the shared pain.

You knew you had to find your own path, to heal from these wounds, and to rediscover who you were outside of the relationship. As the plane took off, you made a silent promise to yourself to emerge from this ordeal stronger, wiser, and ready to face the world, no matter how unforgiving it might be.

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wolvertooth · 4 months ago

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Did u see the news that sabretooth is confirmed to show up in xmen97 season 2? I'm extremely excited and giddy yet mortified bc of the whole useless [mag/rogue) "romance" 97 adapted/retconned into existence,

even if they had the whole ballroom dance together it was still very obvious they were showing both the implied grooming and the power imbalance mags had over her and seeing as 92 did adapt the whole silverfox flashback+ her death and the team X EP I'm really paranoid that the writers will suddenly tack on unnecessary SA implications both to torture logan and as a way to make sabes cruel and sadistic in a lazy ass way..

*sighing loudly* sorry for the long ask, I'm just really passionate about both their characters as a longtime fan boy and knowing the insane positive reception 97 got I'm just terrified that IF they do add on that implication ppl who like his character will never hear the end of it, or how he should be killed off forever bc he's a mindless murdering cannibalistic booty warrior who stomps on babies and makes kitten tacos on Wednesdays or WHATEVER lame shit they mame him do avoid writing a character that's both evil and terrifying yet charming and a lil sympathetic, God forbid we have complex characters that can still be villians and not cardboard training dummys for the heros to attack 🙄

dunno about the grooming thing, considering rogues in her 20s(possibly even late 20s). i think shes just a grown woman with a case of Wanting That Old Man Carnally. confession -> i havent actually watched past episode 3, cuz tbh i. dont care much for the xmen aside from wolverine. and he barely got to do anything. so all my context is just from tumblr posts.

also i genuinely thought u meant like. sabretooth SAing wolverine in the past. and i was like bro theres no way disney would allow that dw about it👍 then after rereading it a couple times i was like OH U MEANT THE 2003 COMIC THING LMAO. first of all, with the current rating they got, theres No chance they'd go that far. besides, shes alive, and logan knows all that was just implants anyway(i reallyyyy hope they dont forget about the whole implants thing...). second, i dont think morph would transform into sabretooth as a joke if he was really someone who fucked up logan That Bad.

anyway i literally forget that people like him as a Villain cuz im just over here seeing him as the rich merc whos an occasional annoying bastard with a heart of gold and a history of mental breakdowns.. like hes got a bit of a The Mask situation going on with his costume tbh, he'll just get written way more cartoonishly evil whenever hes got that thing on lol

anddd if they do decide to follow the previously established canon(and they likely wont do too much due to him still being on the villains side in the intro, just lemme dream for a sec here), i think him and logan are on somewhat good terms now! last time they hungout he only fought him for like 2 seconds cuz he thought wolverine was picking a fight, then dropped it pretty quick(it was also the episode that revealed any of the bad memories they had of eachother in the past were all just implants). after that, he was last seen without the costume, which is kind of a big thing for his character? i think?

..ok i just remembered the recent 97 prequel comics where hes just...#normal villain sabretooth working for sinister and the marauders. 😦😧chat......this better not mean what i think it means..........(CLONE PLOT PART 4?). but theyre also both on a last name basis with eachother so. ❓ progress?

at least the comics didnt forget about team x. so maybe we got a chance at something good

#asks #'cardboard training dummys for the heros to attack' literallyyyyyy #wake me up if they do something good with his character snorkkmimimiii #sabretooth #victor creed #xmen 97

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exololyunho · 2 years ago

Text

just a babysitter

masterlist

wc: 6.4k

in desperate need of easy cash, you get set up with a babysitting gig that pays well, in both money and the view of your new boss. an innocent crush takes a turn during a lonely night that changes the employer-employee dynamic

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, making out, brief mention of hickies, age difference (8 years), diff Yunho, one child

taglist! @becky4733107-blog

an: im not dead and I'm trying to start posting but life's been crazy lately. also sorry if this is a little disjointed it was written in chunks and has been in my drafts since December

Your bank account balance was a grand total of $136.89. Thankfully, you lived in school housing, so rent wasn’t an issue, but groceries, sorority fees, and textbooks were.

You needed a job, bad. Your senior year classes took up almost the entire day except for Wednesdays and Fridays and therefore didn’t leave you with many options besides a shitty fast food restaurant nearby or, as your friend San had so eloquently put it, a gentlemen’s club. You had shot the fucker down, telling him so way in hell you would become a stripper. All respect to them, but you just didn’t have the coordination or the skill to become one.

Nowhere else in town was hiring as quicker students than you had snatched up better positions so you were fucked.

San’s smarter friend, Yeosang had said he might actually have somewhere you could work where you were expected to keep your clothes on and you wouldn’t come home smelling like a fryer.

His great-great-great grandbig was looking for a babysitter for his daughter. That sounded promising. If he had been a brother of ATZ, San and Yeosang’s frat, he had to be a nice guy and probably a good boss. ATZ was known for being good guys around campus, men that everyone was comfortable around. They still held crazy fun parties, but they took care to make them safe. That meant no punch bowls, no one they didn’t know invited, no glass, and plenty of sealed water bottles for inebriated guests.

It was during one of their parties freshman year that you had met San and Yeosang. It had been your first college party and your first party after getting accepted into ATY, ATZ’s sister organization. The three of you became fast friends and you quickly became acquainted with their other brothers, too.

Yeosang had told you he’d get you in touch with his many times great grandbig. Within a day after he mentioned it, you got texts from one Jeong Yunho. After exchanging greetings and letting him know you were available from 3 pm on every day except Mondays, Yunho invited you over the next Thursday afternoon for a trial run. He had told you he mostly worked from home doing something business related that had sounded rich, but every Wednesday and Friday he had to go into the office.

That brought you to now, standing in front of the massive house in a fancy neighborhood. The front door was red and had a gold plated knocker. It looked menacing. The rest of the house was equally as intimidating. It was white with red accents and was two stories tall. The manicured lawn and perfectly sculpted bushes screamed ‘I pay someone to do this for me.’

You steadied yourself, smoothing out the loose black slacks you wore and making sure your olive green blouse was tucked in right before you raised your hand to knock.

You didn’t get a chance, though, because the door swung inwards to reveal a little girl. Yunho had told you she was five, but she looked very tall for a five year old. Her black hair was in pigtails and she was wearing a purple dress. She peaked out at you shyly, half hidden behind the door.

You smiled, trying to be as friendly as possible. You squatted down the porch. “Hello, you must be Eunha.”

Her pigtails bounced as she nodded and stepped out from behind the door. She seemed hesitant but she walked much closer to you until you were nearly face to face. Her small hands balanced on your shoulders as she stared into your eyes. This was a little odd.

“Are you my mommy?”

Your jaw dropped open and you struggled to find an answer that wasn’t a shouted ‘no!’ Thankfully, you didn’t have to struggle long.

“Eunha! What did I say about opening the door for strangers?” A man appeared in the entryway. You hadn’t had a chance to take in the interior of the house and now you definitely weren’t. The man in front of you was tall, fit, and handsome. His black hair looked like it probably needed a trim, but it was framing his face messily in an extremely flattering way. And god his face. He was extremely handsome, but his features were soft and inviting even as he looked from you to his daughter in concern.

“She didn’t say anything weird, did she? She’s still figuring out boundaries with strangers,” the man, who you correctly assumed to be Jeong Yunho, picked the girl up.

“Um…” you didn’t really want to mention what she said. It would probably be awkward and you didn’t want to start off your trial run by asking Yunho about the girl's most likely absent mother.

“Oh god she did,” he looked at the child in his arms. “What did you say, Eunie?”

The nickname was so sweet but you didn’t have time to swoon over such a handsome man with a little girl in his arms because the kid pointed at you.

“Mom?”

You cringed and looked away from them.

“God, I’m so sorry Y/n,” your name coming from his mouth gave you butterflies and a blush, which you hoped he took as you being somewhat embarrassed by this girl you just met calling you mom. “No Eunie, we’ve talked about this. This is Y/n, your new babysitter.”

“Oh,” the little menace looked like she was thinking. “But I like her, why can’t she be mommy?”

She liked you? You’d barely shared ten words and you’d met her about a minute ago.

Yunho looked like he was thinking the same as he stared at his daughter before looking at you. “No, baby, she's here to be your friend while daddy has to work.”

Something was wrong with you. The way he called himself daddy made you hot in ways you should not be while there was a child between you two.

“Fine,” Eunha was pouting while Yunho shook his head.

He set her down on the ground. “Go play, darling, I need to talk to Miss Y/n.”

The little girl darted off through one of the doorways in the entryway and you breathed a sigh of relief. He gestured for you to come in, removing your shoes while he shut the door behind you. With the two of you standing next to each other you finally realized how tall he was and how good he looked, even if he was half dressed for work in just slacks and a white button down.

“I am so sorry, Y/n,” he rubbed the back of his head. “She’s a weird kid. She scares off every babysitter by pulling some weird crap like this, so I totally understand if you want to back out.”

“As long as she doesn’t try to stab me, I think I’ll be ok, Mr. Jeong,” you’d dealt with far worse kids after babysitting in high school. Granted, none of them had called you mom before, but Eunha seemed unthreatening, even if she was odd.

“Just Yunho is ok. Mr. Jeong makes me feel old,” his ears were a bit red.

“How old are you?” the question escaped before you could hold it in. “Sorry, that was inappropriate-”

He was smiling down at you. “I’m barely 30. You?”

Cool, cool. Your hot boss was eight years older than you. “I’m 22.”

His smile dimmed a bit and he nodded before clearing his throat. “Well, I promise Eunha won’t hurt you, but she doesn’t hold her tongue very well. She has a tendency to say whatever comes to her mind but we’re working on her filter.”

Yunho started to lead you the way Eunha had run and you found yourself in a spacious living room. Eunha was lost in her own world, sitting in front of a fancy coffee table playing with some dolls.

“Oh,” Yunho’s hand caught your arm with his left hand before the two of you walked closer to the little girl. “If she calls you ‘mom’ again, please correct her.”

“Of course,” you didn’t really want the kid calling you mom anyways. Even if she was cute and her dad was hot, he was much older than you were and you were just her babysitter. Although…

You couldn’t help yourself, glancing down at his hand. No ring.

He nodded and thanked you. “I have to go into the office for a few hours. I know I said this was a trial run and I’d be home, but Yeosang said he trusted you and I trust him. If you have any problem, please don’t hesitate to call me and I’ll come straight home.”

“Of course,” you glanced at the girl behind you, still playing happily. You turned your attention to Yunho again and tried to ignore the heat of his hand soaking through the thin sleeve of your blouse. “I think we’ll be ok, but I have your number.”

“Great,” his smile was wide and warm, but he removed his hand to go finish getting ready upstairs, leaving you with the little girl in the living room.

You approached her and sat down on the other side of the table. Her pretty brown eyes, the same eyes her dad had, lifted to you quickly. Eunha was only five, but her gaze felt like she could see straight through you. Even so, her eyes were still friendly.

“Whatcha playing?” You asked, starting to roll up the sleeves of your blouse.

“Dolls,” she handed you one with long blonde hair. She clutched her own doll with brown hair tightly in one hand. “You can be Minsoo, I’ll be Miyeon. Minsoo stole Miyeon’s pet dinosaur.”

“Oh no,” Eunha nodded seriously at your comment.

“Minsoo won’t tell Miyeon where Mr. Dinosaur is but,” she put a finger to her lips and pointed to the couch parallel to where the two of you were sitting. There was a large stuffed spinosaurus wearing a red tie that was most likely Yunho’s perched on the middle cushion. “He’s over there, but play like you won’t tell.”

“Got it,” you mimed zipping your lips and throwing the key away. Eunha giggled and the two of you started playing.

Yunho popped in a little while later, suit fully put together and hair gelled out of his face. He still looked insanely good, but you almost preferred the messy hair more casual look he had early.

With a kiss to Eunha’s head, he turned to you. “I probably won’t be too late, only a few hours.”

You assured him you got this and he was gone with a wave. You could only stare after him for a few minutes longer before Eunha started interrogating you with her doll again.

Yunho was in fact gone for much longer than a few hours. You’d been here since 3pm and it was now 9pm. He’d texted you frantically at 6 asking if you could stay a little longer since his meetings were running late. You didn’t have anywhere better to be so you agreed, telling him it was no problem. You’d cooked Eunha some dinosaur nuggets and had cleaned the kitchen while she ate.

At 8:30, Eunha had started yawning. She informed you very matter of factly that it was her bedtime, so you helped her through her routine before settling her into bed with her stuffed spinosaurus tucked into her side, quickly falling asleep.

Thankfully, she hadn’t called you mom again.

Once she was out, you quickly ran to your car parked in front of the house to gather your textbooks and notes. If you were going to be here for a while, you might as well study.

It was about 10:15 when Yunho came tumbling through the door. His neatly gelled hair was messed up, like he’d spent the last few hours running his hands through it. His tie was also loosened and, to be honest, he looked exhausted.

“Yunho?” your voice caught his attention. You were sitting in front of the coffee table, much like how you had been when he left, but your notes and textbooks were spread in front of you.

“Y/n,” he walked into the living room. You could almost imagine the scene was domestic. If you weren’t a babysitter and almost a decade younger than him.

“I’m sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “Meetings ran late and there was a bunch of last minute work for a new proposal.”

“It’s alright,” it really was. What else would you have done on a Thursday night? Drinking with San and Yeosang was the answer, but looking at Yunho was so much better than getting wasted with your friends, not that you’d ever tell them that, though.

“Still, I shouldn’t have just dumped Eunha on you for twice as long as I should have.”

“It’s really ok Yunho,” you rose from the floor to begin packing your study materials in your backpack. “She’s a really sweet girl.”

“She’s unique,” he responded with a laugh. “But I love her to death, she’s all I’ve got.”

You wanted so badly to ask about her mom, but that was most definitely not an appropriate question for your first day of work. And definitely not when Yunho looked like he was going to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

“She is,” you couldn’t help but agree. “But I like her and if you’ll have me, I’d love to keep babysitting her.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet,” you paused, your cheeks heating up. “And I need the money.”

“Oh of course the money,” Yunho reached for his pants pocket and began rifling through the brown leather wallet he pulled out. When Yunho tried to hand you almost $500, you backed away, hands in the air.

“There's no way six hours of childcare is worth $500,” he kept trying to give you the money, but you kept dodging him. It evolved into him chasing you around the room.

“I insist,” he had caught you by the waist and was holding your chest tight against his. With his free hand he grabbed yours and placed the money in your hand.

You couldn’t help but look up at him in shock, from both the amount of money he gave you and the way you were pressed against him. Neither of you moved as he seemed to realize the situation you were in. It felt like hours passed with just the two of you staring into each other's eyes.

“I told you you were my mommy,” Eunha’s sleepy voice shattered whatever spell had been cast around you and Yunho jumped apart quickly, both of your cheeks flaming red.

You directed your attention to packing the rest of your things while Yunho tended to Eunha. He quickly scooped her up and out the living room to presumably put her to bed. It was extremely tempting to run out the front door before you had to face him again, but if you were going to be seeing him regularly, you had to act at least a little professional, so you waited by the front door for him to come downstairs.

After a few minutes, he returned, looking slightly more disheveled and exhausted.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you didn’t know if he was talking about holding you like that or Eunha calling you mom again. You were really hoping he was apologizing about the latter.

“It’s really ok,” you waved him off, eager to escape the now awkward atmosphere of the house.

“I really appreciate you coming over,” Yunho opened the door for you. “Eunha said she had a very fun day. She said she wants you to keep coming over.”

He followed you outside and the two of you walked to your car parked on the street.

“She’s really sweet. I’d love to keep babysitting her,” and you’d take any excuse to see Yunho. You did like Eunha, despite her odd tendencies.

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

Your brows raised as you face Yunho, your back to the passenger side door of your car. He looked just as shocked by his own words.

“I- not like that. I have a work dinner and I promise I won’t be as late as tonight,” his hand was on the back of his neck and he looked sheepish. His movements left you with a great view of his bicep straining through his white shirt.

“Yeah I’m free most friday nights,” Yunho seemed to relax slightly as you ignored the implications of his statement.

“Ok, I wasn’t sure if you’d have a date with Yeosang or anything,” was that relief in his eyes?

“Yeosang? Date? Why would I have a date with Yeosang?” What on earth did Yeosang say to this man when he called him about the babysitting job?

“Oh my bad,” Yunho was back to looking embarrassed. “I heard he had a girlfriend then he called me about you and I just assumed… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have.”

You stepped forward to put a hand on his arm. “Yeosang and I are good friends. He’s dating one of my sisters, not me.”

Yunho once again relaxed as your hand made contact with him.

“Alright, good,” you didn’t have the time or will to find the meaning behind that. “I’ll let you head home, it’s late. I’ll text you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright,” you moved away from him to the driver's side. “Goodnight, Yunho.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

You spent the next three months babysitting for Yunho about three to four times a week. During the days you didn’t see him, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You often found yourself thinking about Eunha, too.

The kid hadn’t gotten any less weird the longer you knew her. One day she had made you pretend to be cats to hunt and kill her stuffed animals for food and another day she had you help her build a city of foam blocks populated with dolls and other random items she declared were citizens of Eunhatown, only for her to pretend to be god and destroy it. She liked to draw unflattering pictures of the random people who walked past the house and keep them in a binder under her bed. Eunha’s favorite pastime was playing dodgeball with her large collection of dinosaur plushies until she got bored of that and then asked you to play dead while she had the dinosaurs pretend to eat you. The girl was bizarre with slightly morbid interests, but she never did hurt you and listened to directions you gave her. And, thankfully, she hadn’t called you mom since she caught you and Yunho in the living room that first night.

Things with Yunho were getting more and more friendly as the two of you spent more and more time together. You’d often spend an hour or two talking with him after he put Eunha to bed on nights you had to stay late and you could almost consider yourself friends instead of just his daughter's babysitter.

Yunho had avoided physical contact with you after the first night and you weren’t sure if he was trying to be respectful or if he genuinely did not want to touch you. You really hoped it was the former, as you hadn’t been able to shake the stupid crush you’d had on him since you met.

Because of your crush that was clinging to you like some sort of parasite, it had stung a bit when he asked you to babysit one Friday in early December because he had a date. He hadn’t told you much besides the fact that he needed you there at about 6pm and he would be home by 11pm.

What he hadn’t told you, was that the date had canceled on him. You quickly found out at 6 that night when he opened the door in sweats and a t-shirt with a glass of wine in one hand.

“Shit,” was the first thing he said when he opened the door. “I knew I forgot something. My date canceled on me last night so I sent Eunha to my mom’s to have a night in.”

“Oh,” that was surprising. You couldn’t imagine any woman canceling on the man in front of you. Although, it was a little presumptuous his date was a woman, it probably wasn’t off the table since he did have a daughter.

“Yeah, sorry Y/n I should have remembered to let you know. You probably had better things to do than drive all the way over here.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “If I hadn’t driven out here I’d be getting harassed about going to a frat party at the moment.”

“Sounds much more exciting than what I’m doing right now,” he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe.

“And what are you doing now?” Your eyes flicked to the glass in his hand, it was a little under half full.

“Drinking and thinking,” he was smiling down at you. “A deadly combo.”

Something about the look in his eyes, the way his body was positioned towards you, and the unrelated chill in the air that had settled in once the sun set a while ago caused a shiver to run through your body.

He noticed the shiver and moved off the doorframe. “Would you like to come in?”

You answered him with a nod and followed him back inside. It was much warmer in here. In the past few days since you last babysat, the house had been decorated on the inside with Christmas decorations. There was a nutcracker on the side table of the entryway and you could see a beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the living room.

While you removed your shoes, Yunho headed into the living room. When you followed him, you could see there was a fire in the fireplace that usually sat empty and unused. All of the normal pillows and throw blankets on the couch had been replaced with red and white ones that fit the holiday theme.

“Wine?” Yunho was holding an empty glass, his own having been set down on the coffee table beside an open bottle. He had either opened a new bottle just before you arrived or he hadn’t had very much to drink. You could see about three quarters of the dark liquid still swishing around when he picked it up to pour you a glass after you nodded.

When he had poured you a glass, the two of you took a seat on the couch facing the fireplace, not looking at each other. With a sip of wine for confidence, you shifted to face him.

“So,” you began. He turned to give you his full attention. “You said you were drinking and thinking. I get the drinking part, but what were you thinking about?”

He let out a sigh and took a sip. He stared into the glass as he began to speak. “This was my first date since Eunha’s mom left.”

Well, it seemed like it was time for you to get the answers to your questions from three months ago. It was best to approach this as diplomatically as you could, despite how curious you were so you stayed silent and he kept talking.

“I figured it was time to start dating again. This woman,” he paused and finally looked up at you. “She canceled as soon as I mentioned I had a daughter.”

You wanted to interrupt but he kept talking.

“I honestly don’t blame her, that’s a lot to sign up for, but I figured I should say something before we actually went out.”

He was right. As much as you wanted to shit talk the woman for seemingly hurting him, you didn’t really blame her. Before you met Yunho, you probably would have done the same if a man told you he was a single father. Hell, you still probably would if any man except Yunho told you he had a child before your first date.

“It’s just disappointing for my first first date in almost seven years,” he took another sip of his wine.

It was now or never. “Can-can I ask what happened to Eunha’s mom?”

Yunho’s eyes closed and he sighed. He was leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees and you got the impression that it was something he didn’t want to talk about.

“Yunho I’m sorry it’s none of my-”

“No no don’t apologize,” he turned his head to look at you now. “It’s just a touchy subject I don’t usually talk about.”

You stayed silent, letting him continue on his own. He sat up and took a deep breath.

“We weren't married, her mom and I. We’d been dating for barely a year when she found out she was pregnant and immediately everyone tried to get us to marry.” Yunho’s gaze was back on the dark red liquid in his glass. “We both realized we were falling out of love and didn’t want to be tied together forever, but it was too late…”

He trailed off looking somewhat ashamed. “It was too late to do anything about the pregnancy. We stayed together so I could support her and when Eunha was born, we were going to give her up for adoption. I couldn’t do it, though, and her mom could. So I took Eunha and her mom gave up any parental rights. Last time I heard from her was on Eunha’s first birthday. She was living in London,” he shrugged at that.

“Damn,” that was all you could think. What a shitty situation to be in. Yunho would have been what, 24? 25? Only a few years older than you are now and you couldn’t imagine finding out you were pregnant by someone you didn’t love anymore…

“Yeah,” he laughed for the first time in a while. “Damn. I got lucky though. I can’t imagine my life without Eunha. And I wouldn’t have met you without her.”

That brought red to your cheeks. His gaze was back on you, and a smile was on his face. He had faint smile lines that betrayed the fact that he was out of his 20s, but they only accentuated the way he shined when he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” you couldn’t help the awkward giggle that accompanied your quiet voice. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer, instead facing the fireplace. Your cheeks felt hot and all of a sudden you became acutely aware of just how close the two of you were. Not that you were complaining, you’d had the hots for this man since you first saw him, but this scenario was not something you had imagined actually happening.

His hand landing on your knee nearly caused you to jump. Your head whipped around to look up at him.

“I’m serious, Y/n,” his eyes were staring so intently into yours. Yunho’s hand on your leg rose up to cup your cheek. “I’m so unbelievably grateful for everything you’ve done for Eunha and I.”

His eyes were darting between your lips and eyes, as if he couldn’t decide where to settle them. You found yourself having the same struggle. His face was so close and there were so many details you wanted to drink in, but his lips, stained red from the wine, were stealing your attention.

“Yunho…” his name came out as a breathy whisper. You could see his jaw clench in the flickering firelight, his eyes blinking shut for just a moment before they were back on your own.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Yunho’s voice was husky and the way he damn near moaned your name made it sound like the best noise in the world. It sent a shiver through you, your whole body heating up. “Can I kiss you, please. Wanted to for way too long.”

You couldn’t reply. It was like your throat was blocked. All you could do was nod before he was surging forward. His hand on your cheek migrated to your hair as his lips met yours. Despite his urgency, his lips were soft, gentle as they slowly moved with yours. The feeling had you floating, not quite present as your mind went blank, lost in the sensation.

It wasn’t until his tongue was prodding at your lips that you snapped out of your daze. Your hands came up to rest on his chest as you shifted on the couch to face him better. His other hand landed on your waist as he tugged you towards him. You gasped, which provided him the perfect opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours.

It was impossible to contain the groan that you breathed into his mouth as he continued to manhandle you. Yunho had seemingly decided that having you pressed against his side while you kissed wasn’t enough. His hand left your hair to grab your thigh, moving you to straddle his lap as he sat back against the couch. From there, his other hand shifted to push on your lower back, pressing you as close as possible to him.

With your arms around his neck, hands tangled in his hair, you parted from his lips in order to take gasping breaths of air. Yunho didn’t seem to need to breathe, as he immediately started planting kisses on your neck. You whined as he nipped the skin beneath your ear. For a brief moment, you thought about telling him no marks, but you weren’t sure if you’d get a chance like this with him again. If this night was going the way you thought it was, you’d probably end up very satisfied, but out of a job and no way to see your hot boss anymore so it wouldn’t hurt to have a few reminders of him, even if they would fade within a week.

Yunho licked a stripe up your neck, his hand on your back moving to grope your ass as he brought the two of you face to face again. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, both panting, until you leaned forwards to kiss him.

He eagerly reciprocated, holding you tighter to him in the process and pulling you down in his lap. You couldn’t help letting out a little noise of surprise as you felt the tent in his sweats pushing between your legs.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/n,” Yunho pulled his lips from yours, resting back on the couch and letting his hands move to your waist. Your own fell to his chest “This… this wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked to kiss you, I promise.”

You didn’t reply, only watching his chest rise and fall as you both panted. It wasn’t a conscious decision, at least you don’t think it was, to slowly grind down on him. Yunho’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a groan, hips bucking upwards to meet yours.

“Shit, Y/n, don’t do that,” his words gave you pause. What the hell were you doing?

“Fuck, fuck sorry, Yunho,” you rose, moving to get off his lap but his hands wouldn’t let you.

“I meant don’t do that because I can’t control myself if you do.”

You settled down again, rolling your hips over his experimentally. When he groaned again, you grinned. “What if I don’t want you to?”

Yunho gaped at you for a moment. “You can’t- fuck Y/n.” Then he brought his mouth back to yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth. As his mouth moved against yours, you continued grinding down against him. Both of you were panting into the kiss, hands frantically roaming each other.

Regretfully, you had to part in order for him to yank his shirt over his head. It gave you a wonderful view of his lean torso, which you immediately started running your hands over, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his warm, smooth skin beneath your palms. He wasted no time in yanking you back into him, lips smashing into your own as his tongue invaded your mouth.

His right hand migrated from your waist to the front of your pants, fumbling to undo the button and yank down the zipper. Yunho’s hand slipped down inside and his long, nimble fingers quickly made contact with your clit. That first contact had you gasping into his mouth. As his hand down your pants made tight circles around your clit, his other hand grabbed your ass and held you in place.

His hand kept working on you and your tongues tangled. You unleashed moans and gasps between deep, aggressive kisses. As his movements brought you higher and closer to your impending orgasm, kissing devolved into panting into his mouth.

Your hips were grinding against his hand as the pressure built. Yunho’s lips traveled to your next while your head tipped back, gasping moans flowing free. His lips sucked small marks onto the column of your throat. Your hand came up to grasp his hair, pulling at the soft strands as your orgasm washed over you. It hit you like a ton of bricks, slamming into your body and making you tense as the sensations wracked through you, wave after wave as you clung to Yunho.

When you had stopped shaking for the most part, Yunho withdrew his hand. Leaning back on the couch he brought his fingers to his lips, licking and sucking your juices that had been left on them. You could only watch, transfixed by the sight of his fingers disappearing into his mouth.

When he withdrew his fingers he hesitated for a moment, simply staring at you sitting on his lap. Yunho seemed to pull himself together after a moment and sprung into motion.

“Lay down,” he ordered as he pulled your top off, followed by your bra.

You did as he said, sliding off his lap and onto the couch. Propped up on your elbows, you watched as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down before throwing them across the room.

“Hurry,” you whined at him as he reached for the waist of his own pants.

“Why, baby?” he laughed, smiling down at you as he slowly lowered his own pants. “We have all night.”

With that, he quickly climbed over you, slotting his hips between your open legs and bringing his mouth down on yours again. It only took a few expert shifts of his hips and his hand to have him slipping inside you. Your head dropped back away from his as you gasped at his girth and length filling you.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, his own head dropping to your breast bone as he took a moment to recover.

“Yeah, fuck,” your voice was breathy. Both of you chuckled at that, until the movement of him laughing and the subtle shifting of his body had you gasping again as he shifted inside you.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, connecting your lips to his again.

With slow, testing movements, his hips drew back before easing back into you. Every push in had soft whines leaking out of your mouth and into his. Yunho repeated his soft motions for a few moments before he was pushing away from you.

He sat up on his heels, his hips still pressed to yours and his hands locked around your hips. You had been still expecting the gentle movements he had been subjecting you to previously, so you were wholly unprepared for the nearly aggressive thrust back into you.

Yunho’s new rhythm was still slow on the backthrust, but his thrusts into you only grew in speed and power. This new pace was forcing out strangled gasps of his name out of you.

He himself was panting and groaning as his eyes darted between your breasts bouncing, your face with your eyes shut and mouth open, and the spot between your legs where his dick was disappearing into you.

“Shit,” he breathed out when he paused. His grip on your waist was still tight and he shifted your hips up for a better angle. With your legs thrown over his and your lower half under his control, he sat up on his knees, drawing you with him.

Your eyes met his briefly as he pulled back quickly to pick up his rhythm again. The eye contact didn��t last long as his new angle had his tip perfectly hitting your g-spot over and over. At the repeated stimulation, your eyes rolled back and your back arched even further into the position he was holding you in.

Yunho kept up his pace until his hips started to stutter and his mouth dropped open in a long groan.

“Fuck, fuck, Y/n,” you could tell he was getting close. You were slowly reaching your peak, but too far away to cum with him.

Yunho was getting even closer and you decided to give him a little extra help. All it took to toss him over into his orgasm was a firm squeeze of your interior muscles and one of your hands coming up to palm our own breast.

His head fell back with a groan as he gave a few final thrusts into you before pushing as far as he could inside you. You couldn’t help but admire the sweat shining on his skin in the firelight and the way all the muscles in his body tensed.

Yunho’s moment of euphoria passed quickly as the reality of the situation hit him in the face.

“Holy shit, Y/n please tell me you’re on birth control. I cannot have another kid right now,” his eyes were frantic as he leaned down over you.

You laughed and nodded, a little out of breath. “Yes I’m on birth control. You’re not going to be a dad again.”

He let out a relieved sigh before his eyes lit up again. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind being a dad again, but preferably in a stable relationship this time.”

Your breath caught in your throat but you recovered quickly. “Is this your way of asking me out?” Reality also hit you again as you realized you didn’t know if this was casual sex between an employer and an employee or something more, but you could only hope.

Thankfully, he laughed. “I suppose it is.”

#jeong yunho smut #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez fanfic

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devondespresso · 1 year ago

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WIP WhhhMonday Nightish

Once upon a time Devon was tagged in a wip wednesday by @eriquin and meant to do it but missed both wednesday and the weekend before remembering again. totally unrelated, Devon is working on getting their official adhd diagnosis.

i also noticed that the past snippets shared in wip-whatever posts have been purposefully the least interesting parts because i was worried about spoilers, which is dumb because that's created the unintended consequence of my tag is full of everything i don't like as much and a very different impression of what my fic is (as seen by most of these snippets being my rewritten scenes despite the actual fic being mostly new in-between scenes)

TLDR: WIP Whatever-day-it-is: But Actually For Fun This Time

The Rules

Post the file names of up to 5 of your WIPs for people to send you asks

Post a snippet of one of those WIPs

When people send you an ask with the name of one of your WIPs, write 3 lines of that WIP.

(Optional) Post the lines you wrote.

You can send multiple requests especially since this is going on through the weekend!

The WIPs

we're doing bulleted chapter titles to share from since that was my favorite and genuinely most productive format I've used. Feel free to ask for as many as you want, I plan on working on this basically all week

Karen Wheeler POV Bonus Chapter (Prologue kinda? side story in the same universe?? Bonus chapter set after season 1 and way before ch 1)

Steve, are you okay? Are you okay, Steve? (ch 9)

What's this? The consequences of my actions? (Is that a motherfucking Lovejoy reference?) (ch 10)

Kidnapping? no. surprise adoption. (lol get taken care of BITCH) (ch 11)

NEXT CHAPTER BC IDK HOW TO TRANSITION (ch 12) (a very tentative title for the next chapter to be written)

The Snippet

here is my favorite and most recent scene I've written, which takes place before they junkyard where Steve and Dustin are at the grocery store to get that ungodly amount of raw meat they have to toss around (also i've split chapters up a bit in the name of structure so the third chapter is now called "Mommy Issues Central". Lemme know any goofy vine reference ideas you guys have or if it should stay like that) (fear not, Get Yo Fucking Dog Bitch lives on still as chapter 4)

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They turned down the next aisle, lining the edges of the cart with some other pasta-related shit that he could still probably use. They heard someone coming over from the next aisle and before he could turn the cart around Mrs Wheeler pulled up.

"Oh, Steve ...and Dustin. What're you boys up to?"

He took a short breath to work their story into something without Mike, but Dustin beat him to it.

"He's teaching me stuff."

He was imitating the tone Steve used but still way too vague. Mrs Wheeler held up a smile, her brows slightly lifted.

"Y'know, like cooking-" Steve said, throwing in a little gesture to the cart.

"And cars, changing oil and things. Y'know just.. dad stuff."

Dustin's part convinced her, Mrs Wheeler's expression softening into a real smile.

"Well I won't keep you long,"

She nodded off to the side to talk to Steve one-on-one.

Great.

“Are you and Nancy okay?”

“Wh- we’re- Why? Did she say something?”

“No, no, she’s just been… closed off, lately. And I drove her to school the other day, she didn’t say why.”

“Sh- yeah, that- that’s on me. Sorry.”

“Did you break up?”

“No no, definitely not. We’re kinda… we’re working on it. I’m going to try and make it better, after y’know..” he gestured to Dustin behind him.

“Right.” she smiled again, “Let Nancy know she can talk to me about any of this? Please? I tell her but- I don't know, maybe it’d be different coming from you.”

He held up a smile for her.

“Yeah, sure. Mind if we..” he jutted a thumb towards the end of the aisle.

“Yes, go ahead.”

He gave her a short wave and turned back to Dustin, who studied random shit in the aisle like Steve would believe his sudden fascination with olive oil outweighed childish curiosity.

“Steve-”

He turned back around, seeing Mrs Wheeler coming back up to him and whispering again.

“I know I’m not your mother, but you can talk to me, too. Both of you, okay?”

He kept the smile in place and nodded again, and she finally went back to her cart.

Dustin “Definitely-Not-Eavesdropping” Henderson followed him out of the aisle, thankfully waiting until they were out of earshot to ask.

“What's going on with you and Nancy?”

“Thought we had ‘much bigger problems than my love life’?”

He pulled up to the deli, stopping to pretend to look at the options.

“We’re not dropping everything for it but we can still talk.” he groaned.

“I’ll tell you later, kay? Not exactly the best place to talk.''

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Tags

@stobinesque @spoookysix @marvel-ous-m @alexcharmsyou @museumgiftshoperaser @blushweddinggowns @sharpbutsoft @fag4dykestobin @findafight (no pressure ofc and feel free to switch it to actually wednesday fhuhjdklashj) (also just let me know if you don't wanna be tagged in these)

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve and dustin #dustin and steve #karen wheeler #stevecentric #steve stranger things #devon's steve henderson au #lets play explaining-chapter-title-references-in-the-tags!#first and last ones are temporary placeholders for actually fun titles #Steve are you okay are you okay Steve is a reference to smooth criminal (annie are you okay) and specifically i think of that vine where #this girl is singing passionately and the girl behind her is banging a pot with a spoon to the beat #'Whats this the sonsequences of my action' is a line from the lovejoy song consequences (totally unrelated thematically its just brainworm)#and the 'motherfucking lovejoy reference' part is itself a reference to the meme 'is that a motherfucking _ reference'#(i think the original of that is jojos bizarre adventure but my brain remembers it as star wars so)#then 'kidnapping no surprise adoption' is specifically something my friend and i used to use to say when we picked her up for a sleepover #(which obv connects to that chapter very well)#i think it was a general meme or common joke before we used it too since we had ✨internet access✨ but idk where specifically

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skullfck · 2 years ago

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@unpossession SAID: Dear Hawk,

It’s late at night, you’ve just left (about an hour ago) and I keep wishing that you hadn’t; a letter will have to make up for the loss of your company. I’m still drunk, so please forgive my messy handwriting-

editors note: her handwriting is perfect. neat, girlish swirls for o’s, loopy l’s and perfect polka dots punctuate the i’s. each letter connected by a seemingly effortless swoosh of her pen. black ink barely smudged. she must be shitting him.

-and please also forgive any mushy, gushy talk that might come out of this. By morning I might have come to my senses and decided not to post (mail) this at all, but knowing me I will. I think it’s important to be earnest. When you care about somebody you should say it. Also, apparently I am just a fan of embarrassing myself out of commitment to the bit. Anyway. Feel free to skim read. I’m sure all this is going to be very silly in the light of day.

I tried reading after you left but I was too distracted by the empty space on my sofa where you were sitting, so I moved to that side hoping to fill the void and started to wonder what it’s like to be you. I started trying to take up more space, spread my legs (not like that, perv) in that way that guys always seem to without meaning, broadened my shoulders and slouched a bit. I tried to imagine myself where I was sitting but couldn’t seem to grasp my own face. You’re the first person I’ve had over since I moved in here, I wanted to know if I look happy here. I’ve been trying so hard to make it a place I will be comfortable in my own company. Now it seems I’m just chasing your ghost. Which is something I do. Obviously. I’m trying to stop that, too.

I have this problem where I never feel close enough to people. I wanted to say thank you for carrying me home tonight but it isn’t enough. I feel like I use words so much that they lose all meaning. I like that you don’t use too many even though you know how. I know you know how. I might take a vow of silence or something just to see what it’s like. There I go again, copying you. I’ll try to cut that out now. It’s almost impossible to go back to where I started once I get too into it. Somehow I don’t think I’ll pull it off the way you do.

I hope you’ll come back soon. I’m sorry for the things I said on the walk home. I meant all of it but I didn’t mean to say all of it. Things will be different here, I think. But I said that about New York and I said that about the old apartment and I let things inside and it ruins it all. I get lonely, and it’s not like I go looking for trouble but it seems to find me and swaddle me and make me feel safe in the chaos. I feel like if I lose myself in the dark then i won’t be me, and I’m really sorry, I know you like me and you think I’m sweet but I cannot stand being alone with myself. I’m not

You’re so handsome. I wish you’d stop smiling at me in my head. I wanna make you smile all the time and you’re so stoic most of the time. I was sitting in the bar waving my arms around like an idiot for that bartenders attention but really it was for yours, just to see if I could make you laugh. I made you laugh a lot tonight. Mission accomplished.

I can’t keep a thought straight. This is gonna be such a shit letter. Oh well. I’m gonna see you real soon, probably, and I’ll try not be in need of any carrying next time but I like being close to you, so maybe if you could just pretend I do, that would work out just fine.

With love,

Wednesday’s Child, full of whiskey.

Ps. I still think about that poem you wrote me when I touch myself. ✠ send a MESSAGE?

The letter rests face-down on his chest, keeping him company during the high. Occasionally, he’ll lift it up and read it again, finding new meaning in every word and reopening a wound he didn’t even know he had. The drugs keep him from crying the same way he did when he first read it, but they can only numb so much. The ache is persistent, unyielding. Sometimes he has to change positions just to breathe.

He wrote something, too, that night. Came home and scribbled some bullshit out onto a piece of paper that was promptly crumpled up and thrown away. You’re so handsome, I wish you’d stop smiling at me in my head, battling it out with the half-remembered fragment She thinks I’m handsome because / I don’t look her in the eyes too long. He’s so fucking worthless. She never should have sent this to him—she never should have written it. It’s a waste of talent, a waste of feeling, on somebody like him.

He’s clinging to it like a lifeline, though. He’s wrapping himself up in the words like a warm blanket that still has the smell of somebody long gone. It’s such a human letter, full of human thoughts and ideas, and that innate goodness he always saw in her—so pure and raw and terrifying—bleeds all across the page.

When he shuts his eyes, he goes back to that night and he doesn’t leave her house. He goes into her bedroom and he throws her on the bed like she’s been wanting him to do, cutting the clothes off her with a knife. When she parts her lips at the feeling of him he whispers into her mouth promise me you won’t let him inside, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. She whimpers for him but doesn’t say anything so he says it again, growling this time, promise me you won’t fucking let him inside—

He comes to with the phone against his ear. It’s ringing, once, twice—and then she answers, because she never leaves him waiting long. He smiles sleepily.

“Hey, baby.”

#unpossession #☣︎ ???

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ladynyx-worship · 1 year ago

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The reason why I worship or devote the day I choose to Lady Nyx

Thursdays- I was going through the days of the week thinking about which should be spent as a devotional days for her.

I thought Monday meaning moon day was inaccurate while yes the moon is present at night it isn’t always and I thought that day could fit another deity while Lady Nyx worked with another.

Tuesday just didn’t seem like a right fit, I had no other reason but it did not feeling right. Wednesday also didn’t fit her, Wednesday is the middle of the week and just didn’t seem right.

Something was telling me Thursday it was near the end which I felt was fitting, it was also before the last day of the work week which allowed me to look forwards to something.

Friday seemed nice aswell but it’s often associated with scarier things or bad luck during current times, and that day seemed to be more tailored to Aphrodite so I wanted to keep it open for her or Loki.

Saturday just seemed like a wrong fit, something could work better then this day. And Sunday was not chosen because it is meant for the sun, something that ended the night and is more fit for a sun deity.

21- I wanted to give offerings on one day of a month as well for each deity I worship, so I could be put in a routine. I choose the 21st because I was born on the 21st day of a month. Since once I have enough experience I’m going to become a devote of Lady Nyx I thought I should spend a special day to me worshiping her and giving her an offering.

Sorry for the late post I ended up being busy this entire day and just got back on the internet. If your wondering on if I have a offering day to any other deities I do, the 13 for Loki. I still should ask if that’s fine but I think it should be.

#lady nyx worship #nyx goddess #hellenic polytheism #lady nyx #nyx #offering to nyx #digital offering #hellenic devotion #offering to lady nyx #explanation post #Thursday worship post #Thursday offering post

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phychohex · 2 months ago

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I Met a Vampire in Santa Carla (Chapter Six)

(A/N: Hey so this has a heavy topic. The mention of a lost pregnancy is in this chapter. It is part of her backstory and she is talking about it in more in-depth. I just wanted to do a warning.)

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I sit on the floor messing with an amp for the mic. We weren't ready for the next DND session so we decided band practice wouldn't be bad. "So you've been hanging out with him more" Kayla asks as she tunes her guitar. "Are you guys dating?"

"No" I shrug "We are just friends. I met his friends the other day though they were all pretty chill."

"By yourself?" Lilly exclaims "Weren't you worried that something could've happened?"

"No, I trust David he hasn't given me any real reason not to. I find him-"

"We got a gig!" I am interrupted by Will bursting through the door like the fucking Kool-Aid man.

"What, When?" Josh looks up.

"Next Wednesday at The Halo. They are throwing a psychobilly event and I'm friends with the owner's son." Will rambles on about it. How we would get three hundred for the whole thing? Arguments ensue.

"I thought we agreed this was just for fun," Lilly groans.

"Yeah, besides you didn't think to ask first. We just started practicing and I don't know if we are ready," I mention the anxiety filling in my voice. I don't have stage fright but the thought of someone catching me singing covers of songs that Steve would disapprove of. Worse what if someone posted photos and saw me in all my get-ups for when we used to do shows? After a good scolding, we finally agreed that we needed to practice nightly till the show. That meant that after work I had to come straight here. Over the next week, we picked the songs we wanted to perform. We practiced and worked on our sound.

It is now the night before our performance and I am closing up the tattoo shop. I feel hands on my shoulders "BOO!" I turn shrieking only for it to be David. I hit his arm as he laughed at me.

"That wasn't funny jackass," I chuckle.

"Then why are you laughing?" He teases. "Where have you been,"

"Oh, I'm sorry I've just been really busy. Will got us this gig at The Halo and we've just been practicing as much as possible." I shake my head walking to my car. "I didn't mean to ignore or make you feel forgotten I'm really sorry,"

"You didn't make me feel that way." He reassures "I was just curious why we haven't hung out." We have been texting and that is it. I missed hanging out with him. "So what time do you guys start," I felt all color leave my face.

"Why?" I look at him freezing my eyes wide.

"Well I'm coming of course," I blush bright red. What the fuck is wrong with me right now? I have never been so nervous for someone to come see me perform. Why does the mere thought of him being in the crowd make chills run down my spine? Do I really care what he would think?

"Um yeah we start at ten," We get to the car "I have to go home so that I can get ready for tomorrow night." I smiled "I'll see you there" I tried to sleep but it was no use. All I can think about is how I might fuck up. How my voice might crack. Then the thoughts of what I would be wearing spill into my mind. All that anyone has seen me in lately was the long skirts or jeans. I always cover everything as per the rules. That wasn't me though. I loved the skirts sure, but I also love to wear tight-fitting pencil skirts that only go to my knees. I love showing some cleavage. I loved dresses that showed off my curves. What if I show what I love to wear and what I enjoy and he no longer wants to hang out thinking I'm a whore or some shit? I doubt he would but I can't deny the beliefs that have been etched into my brain by Steve all my life. 'Men don't want a woman who shows everything, not as a wife. You would be nothing more than a plaything if you show yourself as such'

I decided to go in what I wear now but just in case I bring my favorite dress. A tight black with little white polka dots all over. It has a cinched-in waist and a pencil skirt that goes to my knees. With a sweetheart neckline and thin tank top sleeves. I brought a bright red waist belt as well as black platform heels. That is what I wanted to wear but couldn't leave the house in. When I show up seeing the guys in their getups and the girls in similar outfits. Will wearing black skinny jeans with a white tee shirt tucked in and hair slicked back. Josh wearing black jeans with a black short-sleeved button-up and a red vest. Alex is wearing a similar outfit as Josh. Kayla is wearing tight red pants a black top with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a red mesh neck chocker. Lilly has on black and white top that looks similar to my dress with a black waist belt. A red flowy skirt and high heels. Kayla rushes over to me "What are you wearing I thought we all agreed to match?"

"And we are but I couldn't leave the house wearing it," She gives me a sad look and takes me to the bathroom with the show starting in an hour. Lilly follows to help. I put on the dress and I do makeup as Lilly does my hair and Kayla puts on fake nails. Once I was done and got a look I felt a joy in my heart now recognizing myself. With a light smokey eye and sharp winged liner. A bold red lip blended into black near the corners of my mouth. My hair was put into a high ponytail and my bangs curled into a nice bump. I saw my figure in the dress which took my breath away. My waist is sinched always has been from years of outfits like this. It made my hips look bigger and my thick thighs filled out the skirt. My chest looked amazing. All of my curves are shown in the right places. I turned to see my stomach pointed out just a bit but I still thought it looked sexy. I felt my confidence skyrocket. I go out to the stage and there are a lot more people than I thought there'd be. As my eyes roam through the crowd I see not only David but also the other boys. I wave excited they all came. David makes eye contact and smiles waving back. I also notice someone else in the crowd. Tyler was here. I didn't realize that he liked this kind of music.

We started playing and I got into my rhythm. We started with some misfits and led into Danzig. After Blood and Tears, we go into Elvis. As the night goes on we get into more specific things like Nekromantix and Reverend Horton Heat. The night draws to a close and we start to pack up. I head over to the bar where David sat by himself. The boys are hanging out with some chicks. I hug him happy he came. "You made it!" I exclaim.

"I said I would." He chuckles "Can I get virgin strawberry daiquiri?" He requests. I sit with him "You weren't lying when you said you were covered in tatts." He turns and looks me up and down causing me to blush. "Which one is your favorite?" he asks.

"I really like my Bride of Frankenstein on my leg." I turn my leg to show him. She is a pinup version of the character. He nods as the bartender comes back with the drink. He slides it over to me. "Thank you" I smile.

"You look good" His eyes never left mine as if he was straining to not look at my cleavage. I blush and take a sip.

"Thanks,"

"I'm serious it really suits you."

"I used to wear stuff like this all the time but I can't anymore," I admit stirring the sweet drink with the straw awkwardly.

"Why?" He leans on the bar gripping his own glass filled with what I assume is whiskey.

"My stepdad." I start ready to unpack. "If I want a roof over my head then I need to keep modest. He is a religious nut and ever since I could remember he had this hangup about the way I dressed. He always told me no man would want me if I dressed this way. They would only want my body. I didn't want to believe him but I think he was right,"

"How?" I look at him. My expression screaming bitch are you serious. He rolls his eyes "Look I'll admit you look amazing, and it could just be due to me already caring about you but you are more than just a body. You are funny and smart. You are brave and any man would be lucky to have you for you." My eyes widen. No one has ever said something that sweet to me. I look down fighting back tears. His words have genuinely moved me. I feel him put his hand on my back. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head smiling. I look up to not let the tear fall. "No one has said something like that to me before," I admit. "Thank you,"

"You good?" I look over at him not moving my head.

"Yeah, I just can't move till my tears dry,"

"Why?"

"I spent an hour on my makeup and I refuse to fuck it up" He burst out laughing with me joining him. He hands me a napkin so that I can gently pat my eyes dry.

"Why not just move out"

"And leave my mom with that psycho?" I shake my head "I already did that once and it has been my biggest regret. I'm not doing that to her again especially now that he has gotten worse."

"Is he hurting you?" I notice his expression change. His once joyful look is now superficial. He still smiled but his eyes were burning with rage. I shake my head lying to him. Even though I try to lie and make him believe I'm okay his rage didn't falter. "Good," he mutters. He looks down quickly, looking at my chest.

"You cheeky bitch" I shove him playfully. "Why are you staring at my chest." He holds his hands up in defense.

"I was looking at the tattoo I swear" I look down to see Milo written in cursive with angel wings and little footprints. "Was that his name" I cover the tattoo with my hand lightly.

"Yeah," I smile.

"I like it," He admits. "I'm sorry you lost him," I smile at him.

"It's okay."

"Do you want kids? You never really talk about it. If I'm overstepping then just tell me,"

"No, it's fine. I wouldn't mind if it happened by accident and with the right person. But I wouldn't try for one. I wouldn't be able to take that heartbreak again. I feel guilty sometimes for being thankful that he didn't get to be born" I admit my eyes widening. I didn't mean to say that. I never said that out loud. I cover my mouth and look at him. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," I felt myself tremble. He gave me a sad look. "oh god I'm a horrible mom," He pulls me closer to look at him. "I didn't mean it like I didn't want him. I'm just thankful he never had to see how horrible his father was. If he was born I would've married his dad and been stuck in a horrible abusive marriage and he never got the chance to see all that abuse. He died because of it." I felt my heart race as a panic attack started.

"That's understandable." He nods "I don't think that is bad that you didn't want that for him. You are a good mom. You would've been an amazing mom to him if you had the chance." He talks to me slowly and calmly. The panic attack that was about to happen didn't. I feel someone jump on me.

"Say bye to your boo thang we got to go." Kayla laughs being a bit tipsy. "I got work in the morning," I gather my stuff and we all head out to the car I was her ride home as I was going to be spending the night with her. Once I get to my car David stops me.

"You goin' be okay?" I smile at him nodding. "Let me know you made it home safe okay" I smile at him nodding. I drive to the shack where we're staying the night. I take a quick shower and get some food before going to the living room to sleep. I see Kayla lying down watching TV. She looks over at me smiling.

"So, did you kiss him yet?"

"No," I roll my eyes "What is with you? We are just friends."

"Bitch please I've seen the way you look at him like a puppy that is begging for a treat." I flop next to her.

"Well, we aren't dating," I get on my phone to text him. I glance over to see Kayla on her side with her eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Who are you texting right now?" I shove her and she burst out laughing. "I'm just teasing you. What were you two talking about though I could tell you weren't okay?" I smile.

"Milo," her eyes widen and she sits up straight.

"Are you okay?" Her tone was sad.

"Yeah, I am. I told him something I hadn't admitted to out loud. I was a bit shaken up is all," I look at her she rolls her hand to tell me to go further. "I admitted to being glad he didn't get a chance to be born, that he didn't have to meet his dad and see what a monster he was." She nods thinking.

"I get that," she shrugs I felt even more validated in my feelings. "Did you want him in the first place?"

"Of course I did." I sit up "When I found out I was scared but I was so fucking happy. When I lost him I felt a part of me died with him." She nods.

"Sorry, I was just wondering. It was wrong of me to ask that."

"No, it's okay I get it." I shrug

"You sure?" I could read the guilt on her I hug her.

"I promise you I'm okay let's get to sleep okay," She nods agreeing with me. I slowly fade into a deep sleep. I open my eyes hearing clashing in the kitchen. I recognized this place and I could feel the fear pick up pace. Was it all a dream, did I dream that I left? I sit up feeling a heavy weight. I look down at my round belly gasping lightly. I hold my stomach tearing up realizing I was dreaming. I know this day. It was the day I lost Milo. I get up my feet moving on their own accord. I walk into the kitchen to see John rummaging through cabinets looking for booze that I poured out the night before. I tremble as he turns to me. His yelling falls on deft ears. He makes his way over and grabs me. I sob being thrown to the floor and falling on my stomach. He gets ready to beat me but a blinding light comes through the door. I look over seeing a little boy. He looked about three. He has bright green eyes and pale skin with freckles across his cheeks. His hair was dark and he was so small. I look up to see John gone. I look back to the boy knowing it was Milo. I get up and run to him grabbing him. I back away and look at his face. "Milo?" I smile he smiles back and I pull him into a tight hug. "Oh my sweet boy," I sob I feel his small hand on my face.

"I love you, mama." He smiles "Please don't feel bad" I nod holding him closer as I feel myself starting to wake up dreading having to leave.

#the lost boys #david powers #fanfiction #vampires #romance #davidpowers

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ianmhill · 5 months ago

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Puerto Rico

So because I was late posting last week with almost no mention of Puerto Rico, here's a bonus pod…sorry, blog, about the trip there last week (before I forget it all!)

On the day we arrived, Wednesday, we decided to drive into the capital, old San Juan. It's probably a very pretty, old place, but we spent so long driving around trying to find a car park with spaces that we didn't really get to see too much of the town. We went to a place for lunch that my wife had identified before we arrived on the island and less than 10 minutes after arriving, the rain came down into the courtyard of the restaurant. And continued heavily, until just before we left. The food was ok, but we had plantains in one of the starters and the main course - we went for the traditional Mofongo - and frankly for the rest of the day my stomach was feeling it!

Still, we arrived at the resort on the North East coast without too many other problems and the view from the room was great.

On the Thursday we spent most of the time around the hotel, though we did book a couple of 'excursions' in the morning, which meant we had to go out and make some appropriate clothing purchases after breakfast.

Friday was horse trekking day. Now horses are not something that I am overly keen on. They scare me, frankly. But as this was going to be a trek not full on riding, I figured it would be safe enough. The journey took us from the bottom of the rainforest (yeah, I didn't know Puerto Rico had the only rainforest amongst US Parks either) through trees to a beach, which was pretty much deserted despite the fact that the riding school have a bar/café at one end of it. The beach was a welcome break from being on the back of a horse (named Rocky) not only for the relief from being in the saddle for an hour but also because the beach was cooler than the track.

Here again, it didn't rain until after we got back to the start point, where we escaped it while eating lunch. And I survived the experience with nothing more than a couple of bruises on my inner thighs from gripping the saddle (too tightly, probably).

Saturday's trip was in a boat, departing from a marina a few miles away from the hotel. The boat ride was an hour or so out to another island - Culebra - where we engaged in a bit of snorkeling (or in my case a LOT of snorkeling, such that the boat was waiting for me to drag my carcass back and on board. We then slipped around the island to a beach. My wife and I went for a walk - half way round the bay it started to rain, but as were already wet having been in the water, it didn't matter much to us. By the time we got back to the boat it had stopped raining and the sun was out again.

Finally, on the way back to the airport the following day we drove up into the rainforest, which is really quite amazing. Unsurprisingly it was a bit damp, though it didn't actually rain while we were there and we were able to get out for a couple of short walks to view waterfalls and a spectacular view over the forest from a tower.

My impressions of Puerto Rico: some of it was kinda like I was expecting, it was a bit rundown and abandoned to the elements in a lot of places - it is just about recovering now from a big hurricane in 2017 plus COVID and an earthquake in 2020. But the beaches were fabulous and the rain forest was fantastic. The size of the leaves on some plants and trees was incredible.

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fordarkisthesuede · 7 years ago

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At the Brink of Midnight - Chapter 2

Sorry for the delay! I had some things to work out, Arkham;s layout among them...

Important Spoiler Warning: canon-typical ableism

(Read on Ao3 or continue below cut)

Chapter 2: The Lines In-Between

Bruce had gotten used to driving up to Arkham’s squeaky iron gates and waiting patiently for his visitor call to go through the recently-upgraded intercom, but he had to admit it still felt strange to look at the place up close. It was tall and dark, with the spires and slanted roofs reminiscent of some kind of gothic mansion rather than a mental hospital. Many of the older buildings in Gotham seemed like it, with their gargoyles and weather-worn stonework, always giving the rest of the city the sort of grim storybook atmosphere despite the varying designs of the skyscrapers and apartments and storefronts.

Bruce knew he should have been used to seeing it, considering he had been visiting it multiple times a week for seven months, but somehow it always felt like he was going to a different plane of existence. It was a very different world inside, after all…

Like Gotham’s architecture, the cars in the lot behind the building varied in their states of wear and style and year, but somehow it all looked right, even with Bruce’s black Maserati Gran Turismo parked in the corner. He passed by a beaten Saab with what looked like several bullet holes in the passenger door and a plastic bag covering the window and felt guilt start to gnaw at him.

Crime rates had gone up since he hung up the cowl.

He knew one man couldn’t save the city. He knew the GCPD were better equipped, and knew that Gordon’s recent reinstatement as Commissioner was helping, albeit slowly.

It didn’t stop him second-guessing himself.

Bruce had to walk around to the front of the building to get to the entrance; what was once dull and – quite frankly – creepy was now more polished and bright. The electrical system had been difficult to upgrade, but the result had been worth it. The asylum was looking more like a proper institution every week.

The receptionist was talking with a young red-headed woman in a white lab coat. Bruce took a second to recognize her – the young doctor-in-training from last time he’d tried to visit John. She’d apparently decided to cut half of her hair off in the meantime, leaving it in a short bob.

“Good evening, Mr. Wayne. I.D. and signature please,” the receptionist said mid-sentence into her conversation with the trainee, sliding the clipboard towards Bruce, “-so I said, ‘Honey, you know I’ve seen crazier things at work!’”

The trainee gave a short laugh; it sounded like one of those polite ones that always seemed to signify the end of particular conversations at parties. “Oh, I bet he shut up after that…”

“He did, he did,” Deborah Flint replied, flashing a smile up at Bruce as she glanced over his I.D. “You’re just here to see Dr. Thompson today, Mr. Wayne?”

“I think I can wrap the meeting up with him before visiting hours are over – I’d like to see John afterwards, if that’s alright.” Bruce didn’t miss the appreciative once-over the trainee next to him was giving him, but decided to ignore it.

“I’ll have to check over the patient notes I got this afternoon to see if that’s clear.” Mrs. Flint squinted at her monitor. “That’s strange, Dr. Thompson’s schedule says he should be finishing up with a therapy session upstairs in a bit… Miss Lant, can you escort Mr. Wayne there?”

The trainee flashed him professional smile. “Of course. Follow me, please, Mr. Wayne.”

“Thank you, Miss Lant.”

“You can call me Jackie if you’d like,” she replied cheerfully. “Everyone does. Just, uh, not in front of other doctors.”

Bruce smiled back as they went through the security check. The guard (Tom Welker, who often worked the evening shifts) watched Bruce’s belt and shoes pass through monitor with a scrutiny, but barely ran the metal-detecting rod over him and Jackie. Bruce had half a mind to tell him to check better, but Bruce had passed through it clean so many times before that he wasn’t surprised the guard was getting relaxed with him. And if he did check him better, he might confiscate some of the harmless contraband Bruce sometimes brought to John. Getting a milkshake in had been hard enough…

“Clean as ever, Mr. Wayne. Hey, Jackie, you’re missing something.”

Jackie immediately tapped her badge, then started going through her pockets, patting her slacks as well. “What could I be…?”

“My number,” Tom grinned, handing her a slip of paper. “I’m free Sunday, if you wanna have dinner.”

Jackie took it, but gave Tom a very unimpressed look as she slid it into her coat pocket. “I’ll think about it.”

“I know a place that does great thai!” He called after her.

“I met you last time I visited, didn’t I? You look different,” Bruce commented as they stepped into the elevator. “Did you get your hair done?”

Jackie blushed slightly. “Oh, um, yes, you did. And yes, I did – I had to have an emergency haircut yesterday. I stood too close to one of the inmates doors,” she said with a disappointed frown. “I don’t even know where he got the knife from, but he cut off my whole ponytail…”

Bruce raised his brows. “I’m sorry to hear that… At least you make it look good,” he placated with a small smile.

She flashed him a slight grin as her cheeks turned a little pinker. “Thanks.”

The elevator stopped, letting on two orderlies who merely nodded at Bruce’s polite smile. One looked at the ‘5’ lit up and turned to Jackie – “Jackie, their fixing the fifth floor’s elevator doors. You’ll have to take the stairs up there.”

“What?! Ugh…” Jackie sighed, pressing the fourth-floor’s button. “Sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”

“It’s alright,” he said with a slight shrug. “At least it’s just a problem with the doors.”

The fourth floor was better than it had been the first time Bruce had been on it. The tile hadn’t been fixed yet, but the lighting was much better, and things just seemed clearer and cleaner. A security camera’s lens gleamed from the wall, brand new and not yet operational. The old camera down the hall could barely see them as they made their way towards the staircase. The stairwell was always cast in a yellowish sort of light in comparison to the clean white florescent bulbs in the hallway. Emergency lights hanging high on the walls made Bruce feel like he was in more of a prison than anything.

“Okay, patient 904’s room should be down there, so Dr. Thompson should be near there…” Jackie looked over her clipboard’s notes, eyes roaming over some kind of floor map as they walked up the stairs. “I swear, this place has the most ridiculous layout…”

Bruce said nothing. He honestly hoped they’d pass John’s room up there. He almost didn’t care if it was even occupied… Somehow, just the idea of seeing his space was oddly reassuring.

The heavy metal door opened to the slightly grayer hallway of the fifth floor. The red light above the open doors leading to the rec room area was blaring at him. How strange…

Then again, so was the fact that Dr. Thompson’s schedule had him with a patient at the time that Bruce was supposed to be meeting him. So was the real reason Bruce had picked now to check up on the place. Sizing up Crane in person and addressing John's concerns came first.

"Bruce?"

One simple word in the voice that Bruce knew he would never forget in a hundred years, and things suddenly seemed a little brighter in the dismal world of Arkham.

Bruce practically snapped his head towards the sound, and found John moving to lean against the bars of the Rec Room, a glowing look on his face like he had glimpsed something more than just a man. Like their argument two weeks ago was just water under the bridge. Bruce was drawn in, even as the trainee blubbered.

"Uh, Mr. Wayne, you -"

"I'm sorry, Jackie, can you... I dunno, give me a minute? I didn't get to see him last time I visited."

The trainee seemed to scan him, her dark brown eyes searching his face for a moment. She sighed, a sympathetic smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Two minutes," she said with a light kind of finality.

"Thank you," Bruce said as she walked to the corner and leaned against it, her back turned to them as she flipped through the notes on her clipboard.

"Still using that old Wayne charm, huh?" John smiled, his eyes gleaming for a moment before turning softer, his voice quiet. "Good to see you again, Bruce."

The orderly sitting behind the nurse’s station wasn't paying attention in the slightest.

"John," Bruce started, keeping his voice low, wondering exactly what he should say, "How did you...?"

John's smile widened as he gave a small excited chortle. "Don't worry, Bruce, I didn't do anything extreme," he emphasized with a look. "Swiped a few keys, locked the guards behind me, dialed the numbers I've had memorized for ages... And it worked! Here you are, in the flesh!" His hands, which had been grasping the bars like he could somehow pull them apart, raised palm-up at him, as if he was showing Bruce off like a prize. Bruce couldn't help but glance at them as they went back to holding the bars. "Can't say I didn't wish I had a Jokerang or two on me that day, but -"

"John -"

"I know, I know," John huffed with a frown, his thin arms sliding through the gaps to rest an elbow on the flat lock of the frame and putting the other hand on the very edge of the flat bar. They were close - it would be easy, really, for John to grasp his collar to pull him forward. Into what, Bruce wasn't sure. "Still," he said with a shrug and a sigh, his vibrant green eyes going back to stare into Bruce with something too soft and too knowing to make Bruce entirely comfortable.

"John, I tried to visit," Bruce began, feeling like all he wanted was to spill everything out at once. That he was sorry, that he kept coming at the wrong times for two weeks, that of course he would be there, that he’d always have John’s back -

John reached up, swiftly and softly, to put his finger to Bruce's lips. The skin was dry, but warm, and Bruce felt an awful urge to lean into it. "Shh. You're here now, and that's all that matters." There was no room for dishonesty there; John really meant that. The hand lowered slowly, the tip of it just brushing against Bruce's chin until it pulled away entirely, the residual heat burning his skin in the stifling air. "Just do me a favor, okay?"

There was something about the image of John leaning against the thing that separated their worlds only just, of hands reaching out to him through the gap in the bars, blurring the line that divided them, while John gave him that begging, vulnerable look so like the night the dream ended that it sent a jolt through Bruce’s heart. They might as well have been back in the control room.

"Don't ignore it. Don't shove the feeling in your gut aside and pretend it's not there, Bruce. I saw it written on your face the moment you rounded the corner." Bruce's heart thudded in his ears, the arms in his muscles tightening, his eyes wider than what he wanted them to be.

Bruce wasn’t sure what gut-feeling he was alluding to – did he mean the unusually strong attachment for him that throbbed and squirmed in a way that made Bruce feel uncomfortable putting a label to it, or did he mean the Bat still lurking beneath the surface, wanting to run, wanting to let everything out, scrambling to put all the pieces together before it was too late? Both things were the reason he stood there. He feared neither would fade away any time soon.

“Good thing I felt like pacing over here,” John (Joker) added with a painfully gentle grin, “or I would’ve missed you.”

He didn’t know what to say. He almost wanted to tell him how much he missed him. He could almost make a joke out of it.

"Mr. Wayne?"

The spell on Bruce snapped like a trodden-upon twig and he turned to see the trainee a few feet away, an eyebrow raised slightly at him.

"Hey, Jackie," John greeted with a little wave of his hand, a more casual smile playing on his face. "Showing our favorite billionaire the corners they allow you in?"

"John," Jackie replied cautiously, "you know I'm not even supposed to talk to you without supervision."

"I think Bruce counts," John said with a sly smile at him. Bruce felt the corner of his mouth twitch up on one side and hurried to keep it down.

"Mister Wayne," Jackie said with a more determined air, "Follow me, please."

"Thanks for stopping by, buddy," John said, his smooth mouth curved into a secretive smile. "Do me a favor and look up art for me, okay, pal? Walls are a little too bare here."

Bruce's mind raced as he fought to keep a straight face. Art - not artwork, but a name, short for Arthur. There were no Arthurs on the list of doctors, so he had to have been a patient or a guard. The smile tugging on Bruce's lips didn't have to be fought down this time. "I'll pick out something good for you."

"I know you will," John added with a knowing grin, withdrawing his arms entirely and stepping back from the bars. "Come back soon," he added with an affectionate tone and a much softer smile.

Bruce began to follow Jackie down the hall, glancing back just once to see bright green eyes still watching him, the smile on John’s face replaced with something that was anxious and contemplative at the same time. It made Bruce want to turn around, to ask what precisely it was that made John so desperate to risk the call in the first place, to tell him that he wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

Instead, he tore his gaze away and refocused on the task at hand: finding out what exactly Arkham had used the funds he'd so generously given them for, and seeing if he could get a better grasp of this Dr. Crane.

Jackie tapped a plastic pen in the air as they passed by mostly-empty patient rooms; they came to a stop in front of an open one, the 904 card in the room plate. “Wait…” The trainee took another glance at the paper on her clipboard, and then back at the room. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne.” She turned, giving a sigh and a look reminiscent of a lost puppy. “He must be back down in his office. I think we got the old schedule… I should’ve known he wouldn’t be up here if you’d made an appointment so close to a therapy session…”

It was true, but Bruce wasn’t going to complain. At least he got to see John for the first time in weeks, and since he was up and around, that meant he could visit properly later.

“As long as you know where his office is, I’m sure he won’t mind if I’m a little late.”

“…thanks.” Jackie shot a look down at her shoes. “It’d probably be faster to take the stairs the whole way.”

“That’d be fine.”

He followed Jackie down the aging concrete steps, noticing that she was looking a lot more contemplative than before. “I’m really sorry for dragging you all this way."

Bruce eyed the trainee carefully. She did seem frustrated at herself. “I imagine there’s always going to be hiccups in a place like this. Hospitals always have emergencies; I don’t doubt this place has its fair share of those, too.”

“I just wish they’d update this stuff so I wouldn’t feel left out of the loop like this. I guess most of that’s budgeting and priority, though, isn’t it…?” Jackie sighed slightly as they passed a security guard who gave a curt nod to Bruce’s civil smile. “At least his new office is easy to find. It’s right past the research bay – you ever see it?”

The heavy metal door marked 2 – WEST squealed as she opened it for him, holding it so he could pass.

“I…haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Oh, well, I’ll show you! We do medical tests there – it’s perfectly safe,” she added at Bruce’s wince, letting the door close by itself, “The patients are prescreened for the new medicines, and the bay only acts as an extra measure in case something goes wrong. The upgrades have really helped.” Jackie shot him a warm smile.

“Good to know.”

They passed an orderly escorting a patient alongside a doctor, but other than that the hall seemed empty and quiet until they turned the corner.

Five rooms, side-by-side, all had large glass windows showing in. Three of them were dark, but showed beds and monitoring equipment, like makeshift hospital rooms. One of them had the blinds drawn.

The last was lit bright, and a thin, tall man in a lab coat was seeming to look inside, tapping a pen against his mouth.

"Oh, Dr. Crane! I didn't expect to see you here today."

The stick of a man turned towards Jackie, the light reflecting off one of the lenses in his half-rimmed glasses as a hazel eye looked out at them through the other. It was a blank look that spoke nothing of the man's intensions - it was startlingly dull and lifeless for a forty-two-year-old man whose face looked like it could've been on the cover of GQ. For a horrible moment, Bruce wondered if the man was actually alive.

"Just finishing up some observations," Dr. Crane said simply, his high voice steady and relaxed. His eyes flickered down at the paper visitor’s badge sticking to Bruce's breast pocket. "I see you’re escorting Mr. Wayne around the premises."

"Oh, I was just leading him to the boss' office - I just thought I'd show him around a bit on the way. You know, showing him a bit of what all his donations have done for us so far," Jackie said, a nervous kind of excitement in her voice. "He never got to see down here before."

Dr. Crane stared him down, bits of curiosity breaking his blank expression. "I was under the impression that Mr. Wayne was a regular visitor to our humble asylum."

"I've only been allowed in a few areas," Bruce began, flashing his charming-host-smile at the doctor. "And I've been escorted every time; this place is like a maze."

"Even as your time as a patient?" Dr. Crane asked, curiosity growing steady in his pitch and sparking for the briefest of moments on his features before he returned to looking through the glass window of the observation bay, his expression flat once more. "But I suppose you wouldn't have come down here, you were only here for thirty-six hours, weren't you..."

Bruce filed away the thought that Dr. Crane had clearly looked through his old patient file for a later time. "Can I ask what exactly it is that you're observing, Doctor?"

"Drug tests."

“Um…” Jackie waited a beat, looking at the doctor curiously. "What kind, Pro-," she caught herself, "Doctor Crane?"

"For anxiety," the doctor responded, his eyes not leaving the patient lying on the bed. Bruce peeked over Jackie's shoulder, seeing the patient quake visibly in their restraints. The lights made the tears on her cheeks glisten, and Bruce felt a sharp pang of empathy. His fingers stiffened, wanting to clench into fists.

"Isn't that Claire? Why is she restrained?" Jackie asked, worry etching over her face. "I thought she was marinthrophobic."

"We don't discuss patients' histories with guests, child," Dr. Crane said with the patient air of an elementary school teacher. "I suppose the damage is done," he continued, a flash of distaste in his voice before turning to Jackie with a professional tone. "I can't study the effects properly otherwise; this will give me a window into seeing if the medication overtakes the fear of the restraints."

"Oh... Makes sense," Jackie agreed half-heartedly with a nod. "Well, um, I won't take up more of your time, Dr. Crane."

"Yes, it's best you don't keep Dr. Thompson waiting, Miss Lant. He’s quite a stickler for time-keeping. Nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne," the doctor said, extending his bony hand.

Bruce shook it, feeling a pathetic attempt at a business-squeeze on his knuckles. It wouldn't take much for Bruce to break his hand, and he felt the horrible rush of temptation to do just that. For John's safety or his own discomfort, Bruce wasn't sure. "Nice to meet you, too, doctor."

"If you decide you want to return to therapy, Mr. Wayne, I'd be delighted to give you a spot on my couch here," the doctor offered, a flicker of a smile on his face accompanying the rise in his tone. There was something about it all that made Bruce uncomfortable.

"I'll...make a note of that," Bruce replied awkwardly as the trainee began to lead the way down the hall. Once they were far away enough, he muttered, "Is he always like that?"

"Dr. Crane? Yeah, but you get used to it. I had his course my senior year at Gotham University, before he left - he's brilliant, but he doesn't exactly open up to other people a lot. I figured it's his upbringing." Jackie smiled innocently up at him. "The formative years usually play a lot into your psyche."

Bruce decided not to say anything else to that. He didn’t want to think about exactly what his youth did to his mental state.

They stopped in front of a door with a paper sign saying ‘SUPERINTENDENT DR. THOMPSON’ in large font. "Well, here you are, Mr. Wayne. I'm sure Dr. Thompson will escort you back downstairs."

"Thanks, Jackie," Bruce smiled as the young woman fluttered her lashes once and brushed past him, the reddish-orange of her short curly hair the only colorful thing in the hall.

Dr. Thompson may have been a practicing psychiatrist, but there was no mistaking the businessman underneath, springing to the surface when he looked up from his screen. You didn't get to run an asylum without being both.

"Mr. Wayne! How nice to see you again." It was difficult to pinpoint his age exactly, but he must have been twice the age of Bruce at least.

"Doctor Thompson," Bruce said as he returned the polite handshake. "You look well."

"I don't exactly feel like it, Mr. Wayne, but thank you. I can't say I'm surprised to see you, but I am surprised that it's been a while since you've come purely to check up on your contributions."

Bruce fought down the blush wanting to creep up his face. He'd been coming every week, but every time he split his time seeing John and doing a casual check of the various new improvements, and meeting a few members of the board. His generous contributions on behalf of Wayne Enterprise made them all sit up and give him a bit of a word in here and there, but his father's abhorrent past made them keep a close eye on him. "Well, Wayne Enterprise is a pretty harsh mistress - I have to split my time carefully these days, regardless of what I want."

Dr. Thompson searched him for the quickest moment, but an understanding smile played on his face. "Yes, it's like juggling two jobs, isn't it? Business and friendships - both hard to maintain, especially together."

Bruce was grateful he no longer had the mantle of Batman to uphold, too. It made agreeing with Dr. Thompson a lot easier.

"So, you've seen the new additions to the medical bay and the basement restoration - how about I show you some of the new surveillance equipment we're installing?"

"I'd love to."

"Great, we'll talk on the way." Dr. Thompson gently steered Bruce out the door.

Bruce let his mind run through different questions to ask. Dr. Crane, the medical testing, Jackie Lant...

"So, do you always stay so close to the medical testing facility?" Dr. Thompson raised an eyebrow at him. "Miss Lant showed me on the way. I could've sworn your office wasn't in this part of the building last time."

"This is just temporary; my real office was infiltrated last week," Dr. Thompson's smile turned into a serious line. "Nothing taken, thankfully, but they seemed to have left in a hurry."

"Any idea what they were looking for?"

"Files, but there was no prints on the open cabinet and the camera in the hall was conveniently turned away from the door the night we had a new guard on duty."

Someone who knew the inner workings of Arkham, then. Security and staff were high on that suspect list. And John, a nagging voice at the back of his head said. But that would've been very difficult for John to pull off, considering he was kept a firm watch on since the Joker incident. "What were they, patient files or something? I thought those would've been kept in their own room, with how old this place is," Bruce said with a practiced look of concern.

"They are," the doctor answered, glancing at him. "They were facility records. Finances and the like. They were shuffled to the patient records and my computer was securely transferred down here while we're reconfiguring the security measures upstairs. The new cameras are going live tomorrow evening."

"Good to know it's sooner rather than later," Bruce replied, offering a kind smile as they continued to the monitoring station two floors below.

Whether he needed it for later or not, Bruce would remember that.

Bruce clung to the steering wheel as he glared out the traffic in front of him.

Once again, he was prevented from seeing John. The receptionist at the front said there was some new medication he was being put on at that hour that would make him too drowsy to hold any kind of conversation until he got used to it. The orderly hadn't known the name of the new drug, just got passed a note saying as much that morning.

Something was definitely wrong. He didn't care if it was just an excuse to punish John for the phone call or anything else he might have done; not seeing him for almost three weeks except for a chance encounter in the hall wasn't right.

He knew he could argue with himself all day about how it might have just been coincidence, might have just been him almost desperately wanting to see John again and getting angry about being denied it. He knew Alfred would say as much.

But Alfred wasn't here. He hadn't heard John asking for help. Hadn't met the unnerving Dr. Crane for himself.

He had to find out who Art was.

Bruce breathed deep. He couldn't go back and look through the filing cabinet himself, it was too risky, mask or no mask.

He willed himself to calm down. He had to be rational.

Traffic wasn't going to be moving very fast for very long… He had things he needed to learn.

Bruce dialed Tiffany.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Tiffany," he started, quieter than he thought he would be. "You got a minute?"

"...you need a favor?"

"Well, yeah - I mean, if that's okay."

"You didn't break one of my toys, did you?"

Bruce smiled slightly. Tiffany was still Lucious' daughter. "No, don't worry, it's not a repair I need."

"Well, I figured, but... Just checking. So, what’s up?"

"I need you to find a name for me. Think you can break into Arkham's database?"

"...into Arkham?" He practically heard her narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

"I'm just checking up something." He was starting to feel flustered. "For a friend," he added.

"A friend, huh?" Bruce felt the doubt in her voice. He was sure she knew exactly which friend he was referring to, and he was sure she was judging him. "Alright. Which names?"

"A Dr. Jonathan Crane, no 'h', and any patient named Art or Arthur."

"I'm guessing the doctor isn't a patient?"

"No, practicing at Arkham."

"Right. It could take a while. I'm guessing you called me because you didn't want to boot up your old gear?"

Bruce swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "Yeah."

"...I'll call you when I find something. About an hour?"

"Sure, fine. Thanks, Tiffany. I mean it."

"Don't thank me yet, Bruce. I still need to find you something," she added lightly.

Bruce cursed Gotham's twisting, crowded roads as he drove the rest of the way with the classical station on loud, trying to drown himself in the orchestra filling his ears as he tried not to think about how much easier this entire thing would be if he could just put on the batsuit.

The mansion felt huge and empty when Bruce finally walked in.

In truth, it always felt that way. Too big, too open, too quiet. It would be too long before Alfred's next Skype call, and longer until Alfred decided to take a break from his long and well-deserved vacation.

The moment Bruce had started driving John to the bridge, he entertained the thought of bringing him here. To his house, to the Batcave, to show everything he had to the one person who would actually see everything. He had no doubt John would know exactly what was Bruce's and what wasn't.

Even after everything that happened, Bruce liked the idea of him here, despite the bittersweet flavor it seemed to leave. Taking up space, breaking the silence, sneaking in everywhere he could get, potentially breaking something expensive by accident that Alfred would later mutter about but Bruce would secretly smile at.

Heirlooms were one thing, photos another, but the expensive furniture and modern art Bruce only kept for show - for the billionaire playboy with too much money and time on his hands - he always wanted to treat like the garbage it was.

He turned on the billiard room's fire and sank into the armchair, watching the flames dance as he tried to breathe. It was so hard to think about anything else but the case.

What did he even suspect Dr. Crane of doing? Treating his patients with unusual and unkind methods? Giving off a creepy vibe?

All he had was John's word that something was wrong. John's word and Bruce's gut.

Just how much faith did he want to put into both?

The synthesized jingle of his phone buzzing away almost jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Tiffany?"

"Bruce, I've found something. Are you sitting down?" Without waiting to hear his response, she continued. "What do you want to hear first: Crane, or Arthur?"

"Crane."

"Right," she continued, sounding a bit more normal, "Well, Dr. Crane has been working in Arkham for a little over a year, has a relatively normal file, worked at Gotham U. for years - but his proclaimed area of expertise is a little weird."

"Fear?"

"...did you look him up already?"

"He's written three papers on the subject alone. All open to the public."

"Yeah, well, they're all listed on his references. They all as creepy as they sound? The Working Through Grief article he has sounds pretty normal."

"Fear is unnatural, fear is a byproduct of primitive impulse, fear is conquered best with constant exposure - pretty much all like that. I haven't read the Working Through Grief one yet."

"Yikes, glad I don't have to actually read those. Don't know how I'd sleep..." Bruce felt a smile lift a bit at her tone. "He was basically on the wait list until Arkham gave in and hired him. Seemed the last five years shifted out a few doctors from there and he wasn't chosen until a year ago. The last two seemed to just drop off the face of the Earth."

Probably at the bottom of the Gotham River, if not buried in concrete somewhere. "Missing persons?"

"You got it. Both of them specialized in the sort of...research section, I guess?"

Bruce could see the terrified woman on the table. See Dr. Crane staring at her through the window with a blank face, like it was just something that happened every day. "Medicinal testing wing. I've seen it."

"You've seen it? How?"

"I went to check up on what my contributions were going to, got a bit of a tour - what about Arthur?"

"Right: I found two Arthurs, one's a guard on morning duty, the other a patient. Or...was a patient, actually. Arthur Mooney passed away almost three weeks ago."

"How?"

"Suicide's what's listed, but I couldn't find the details. Guy had a whole list of problems on here. I think it's safe to say he was a total whacko."

Bruce set his jaw, half a mind to tell Tiffany that that sort of casual dismissal of mental issues was as unhealthy as it was disrespectful, but he didn't have the energy to go through a full argument like that. He allowed a sigh through his nostrils instead. "Anything on the guard?"

"Arthur West; nothing special. Forty-four, average height, decent references, no misbehavior on record."

"What floor does he frequent?"

"Uh, I don't think that kind of thing is set in stone, but I'm pretty sure it's the first floor, judging by the crude map I got. Why?"

First floor was for the quieter, better-behaved patients, as well as a slightly larger nurse's station. Despite him going along quietly and being on fairly good behavior, John was stationed on the fifth. "I wanted to see if the two ever came into contact with one another. If the guard doesn't circulate regularly, it's a pretty slim chance. What floor was the patient stationed on?"

"...five. And you'll never guess who the last doctor on his list is."

A patient suicide on the same floor as John. A patient of Crane's.

Bruce pictured the medical testing room, with John strapped inside, and Crane watching through the window.

He felt like he wanted to throw up and hit something at the same time. He breathed deep, trying to calm his racing heart and force the image away.

"Bruce?"

"Tiffany...thank you. Good work."

"...Bruce," she started hesitantly, "What are you going to do?"

He wasn't sure yet. It would be easy - so, so easy - to put on his old suit and sneak into Arkham, do a search before making Crane talk.

Or, he could try to find the coroner's report on Art. Go back to Arkham like nothing happened, force his way into talking with John, see if he knew anything else.

"Tiffany, can you find what exactly it is that Dr. Crane is using on his patients? What he's prescribing them?"

"Probably, but it'll take a bit to get back in. It's too risky to stay on the phone and search at the same time, even if the line's secure."

"Great. If you happen to find the coroner's report on Mooney -"

"I'll send it your way, too, Bruce. I'm guessing you're doing this the more...Wayne sort of way?"

"I hung up the suit, Tiff'. I'm not taking it back out unless I know I need to."

"...your call. I'll send you stuff when I get it."

"Thanks, Tiffany."

"I'm doing this for you, you know," she interjected. "Not him."

Bruce felt his heart sink. He knew it, but he didn't want to hear it. "You know I appreciate it, Tiff'."

"Bye, Bruce."

The call ended with a beep, and Bruce sat there staring at the colorful stripes that made up his lock-screen, thinking too much about everything.

#batman telltale #batman the telltale series #batjokes #juce #atbom #i was thiiiiis close to making Bruce's lockscreen green+purple...#i like seeing poor Bruce desperate to see John :)#also sorry for being late...i meant to post this wednesday #._. i've got a bad habit of being late with updates...#so i'll schedule this for later too!#at the brink of midnight #fordarkisthesuede writes

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topsytervy · 3 years ago

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I'm Thankful For You ~ JJ Maybank

Synopsis: After Thanksgiving dinner, JJ lets you know what he's most thankful for.

Word Count: umm...

Warnings: swearing, spelling/grammar mistakes, a little all over the place but that's how i roll, i think thats it.

*i was supposed to post this on Thanksgiving buti was too busy to write at my dads while my sister and i visited him so i wrote this on the car ride back.*

~~~~~~~

“JJ! Glad you could make it!” Your dad called over the ruckus of your extended family.

Your dad made his way over to the front door where JJ was standing before pulling him in for a hug that your boyfriend returned quickly.

Your heart melted slightly at the interaction as you watched from the couch, waiting for JJ to make his way over to you.

You’ll never forget when JJ first met your family at your birthday three years prior when the both of you were seniors in high school. He was nervous as all hell as you introduced him to your parents first before moving onto your grandparents and your other family members but within an hour he was playing with your younger cousins and talking cars with a couple of your uncles.

Ever since then, JJ was constantly invited and attending family functions. Hell, he was over for dinner every night at your parents and stayed until late in the evening on Sundays and Wednesdays for game night and movie night. It became routine relatively fast for everyone and JJ soon found himself spending the night often before you teo found and apartment together. You never wanted to jinx anything but you were convinced that JJ was meant to be apart of your family.

JJ smiled as he plopped down on the couch next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hey princess.”

“Hey handsome.” You told him as as you leaned your head on his shoulder, watching as your nieces and nephews played around in the living room, shrieking and laughing. “Dinner should be ready in an hour and a half. "

“Sorry for not being able to ride with you. Mr.Heyward needed a jump.” He apologized.

“It’s no biggie. I would hate for him to be stranded somewhere.”

It didn’t take long for your older brother to swoop JJ up and away from you after your short conversation, starting up his own conversation on if JJ would want to help him build a tree house for his kids. It also didn’t take long for your older sister to overhear that conversation and also ask JJ about possibly helping your brother in law make a play house sort if thing for her kids.

You sighed, your youngest nephew looking up at you from across the room before smiling, running over to you and asking to be lifted up.

You did just that, allowing him to snuggle up to you as you two watched the older kids play. You had to break up a couple of screaming matches between the kids and JJ walked in on a particularly ugly one, some hits being delivered between the two oldest of your sisters kids before your niece wrapped her arms around her younger brother and leaned back, bringing her and her brother down to the floor.

“Hey!” You scolded, standing up, baby on your hip as you gently grabbed your nephew away from your niece. You then escorted both of them to separate corners telling them to sit there for a couple of minutes.

You heard JJ let out a low whistle as he walked up next to you. “didn’t realize I had front row tickets to a WWE match.” He joked.

“That wasn’t even the most WWE of the fights ive seen so far.” You informed him before looking at the toddler you were still holding. “isn’t that right? Your siblings are absolutely terrible to each other.”

JJ wrapped his arms around you as he watched your niece pout in the corner and your nephew cry, both clearly unamused with their punishment. “Well, mom says foods ready whenever we’re ready for a plate.”

You nodded as you set down your youngest nephew before going and asking your nieces and nephews what they wanted on their plates, JJ helping you as you both dealt with the children and seating arrangments for them as their parents got their own plates ready.

By the time all the kids had their plates in front of them and we’re eating, you were tuckered out, not necessarily wanting to get up again to fix your own plate.

You closed your eyes before opening them and going to walk into the kitchen once more but JJ stopped you.

“Sit. I’ll get you a plate.” He kissed the top of your head before walking off.

When he came back, he had a plate in each hand, setting one in front of you before sitting down himself.

“Thanks J.”

“No problem.”

Everyone broke off into their own conversations, sharing stories and making other plans for a later date that may or may not actually happen. Your cousin tried to convince you to go black Friday shopping with him but you laughed, shaking your head.

At one point during dinner, you saw JJ and your dad share a look and you glanced over at your mother who just shrugged, smiling as she looked down at her plate.

After dinner, everyone continued to talk amongst themselves and JJ stood up, gently grabbing your hand. “Come on. Lets get some air.”

You stood up from your seat with a little help from JJ before following him out the patio door into the well lit backyard your parents had.

You two sat down on the grass, you sitting in front of JJ, leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around you as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“God, Im stuffed. I don’t know if I can eat another bite of anything tonight.” You sighed, head lolling to the side.

JJ chuckled. “Im sure that you’ll be going back for seconds in an hour.” You rolled your eyes as you pushed against him to scooch away but he tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your neck. “No, no, no. Don’t leave me. Stay with me for a bit longer.”

You relaxed against him, your eyes closing as you spoke. “Hey, J?”

“Hey what?”

“What are you thankful for?”

“You.” He answered without hesitation.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him. “I’m thankful for you too.”

“You may be thankful for me but I guarantee you that I’m way more thankful for you, Y/n/n.” You opened your mouth to object but JJ cut you off. “You saved me, Y/n.”

You turned around to face JJ and he took the opportunity to move , letting himself positon himself so he was kneeling on one knee.

Your eyes widened as JJ reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

“I want nothing more than to spend every Thanksgiving with you, wake up next to you every morning and then fall asleep next to every night, curl up next to you as you read a book or watch tv. I want to continue laughing as I see you struggle with a puzzle only to help you 20 minutes later and get frustrated with it myself or bring you a cup of coffee or tea or whatever the hell you want to drink as you refuse to walk away from the puzzle.” He rambled before sighing. “I want to spend every moment I possibly can with you so Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

You immediately grabbed JJ’s face, smashing your lips against his. The force threw off JJ’s balance, causing him to fall backward but he just wrapped his arms around you, clutching the box tightly in one of his hands.

When you finally pulled away, JJ spoke. “That was a yes, right?” he laughed.

“Yes, that was a yes.” You beamed.

“Can I show you your ring now and put it on your finger or are you gonna knock me flat on my ass again?” He asked as he sat up.

You nodded, letting JJ take your hand and place a kiss on it before opening the box and taking the ring out. He slipped it on your finger and brought his lips to yours again, placing a softer kiss on them this time.

You both stood up and looked towards the house, seeing your family looking out any window they could, laughing, clapping, and grinning as they watched the scene outside.

You blushed as you buried your head in JJ’s chest, embarrassed at the fact that practically your entire family watched you tackle JJ to the ground with that kiss. JJ chuckled as he grabbed your hand, thumb running over the newly placed jewelry on your finger.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

"Just so you know, Heyward didn't really need a jump. I just had to pick the ring up from him because you like to snoop."

You narrowed your eyes at him as you looked at the blonde's face. "I do not snoop."

"Oh, believe me. You snoop."

"No, you just suck at hiding things."

JJ scoffed. "That's a lie and you know it. Why do you think your name in my phone is Snoopy? It's because you snoop."

You shoved him lightly as you smiled. "Well, you're stuck with my snooping for eternity now, handsome. What do you have to say about that?"

JJ grinned as he pulled you closer yet again. "I say that I'm willing to put up with it. This just means I'll be better at hiding our future childrens' gifts."

~~~~~

#jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank imagine

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

Note

Henry's reaction to finding out GF's house is haunted.

Summary: Henry’s friend invites him over to watch a horror film on Halloween, problem is he is madly in love with her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (3rd person, no description)

Warnings: RPF, fluff, romantic goo, friends to lovers or rather idiots to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol and Henry’s green hoodie p0rn.

Words: 1.6K

A/N: So I had to take it to the “friends to lovers” lane, also I will need all the fluff after what I am about to post tomorrow :|! Divider by @firefly-graphics. Beta’d by my beautiful @agniavateira . Also FYI my house is totally haunted.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.

Haunted Houses

All Hallow's Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out.

Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.

All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single.

How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them... alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.

Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind.

"Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown.

“I see you took off your costume for the evening."

She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset.

She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.

"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?" she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased.

“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.”

Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.”

Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now…

Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?

Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home.

Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with.

It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.

After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.

‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’

This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous.

Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm... The Exorcist.”

“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.

“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth.

“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used.

But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.

Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness.

Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn't noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing.

“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him.

Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.

“My house is totally haunted.”

Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.

“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away.

Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”

Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles.

“I think you have rats.”

“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”

“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”

‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head.

She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.”

Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street.

Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.

She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment.

And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.

In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie.

Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”

Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.

“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping.

Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.

Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite.

Tagging: @the-soot-sprite @henrythickcavill because they asked to be tagged in these. <3

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc

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yeoldontknow · 2 years ago

Text

WIP tag game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous they are. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips. (you can make your own post or reblog this one!)

tagged by the lovely @kookdiaries to do this fun wip game! thank you my love

im really about to show my ass with this here. is there a reason to have this many wips? no. but do i have them? yeah. i do. and i love them like theyre all my children TT anyway. come journey inside my notion and see what its like to be in my head for a little.

tagging: @jamaisjoons @yoonia @inkedtae @opaljm @kth1 @jeonjcngkook @amourtae @xjoonchildx @kyungseokie @jimilter @ressjeon @miscelunaaa @readyplayerhobi @kithtaehyung @taegularities @augustbutwinter @writtenwhalien @joheunsaram and anyone else who wants to do this. i know there are so many more people i want to tag but i havent seen them on my dash lately and i dont know if they changed URLS. im still playing catch up after being away for months so if you see this and you want to play just say i tagged you i am so so sorry for not knowing who anyone is anymore lmao

and also. no one wants me to tag as many people as i have wips. when you see the amount you will understand.

WIPS - broken out by group and then member:

EXO ⁂ Junmyeon ⇀ An Abundance of Time ⇀ Silk City

⁂ Yixing ⇀ Joyride & Finesse ⇀ Heretic

⁂ Baekhyun ⇀ Revenant

⁂ Chanyeol ⇀ Hero ⇀ Time Runner ⇀ As Still As Sound ⇀ Back To The Stars ⇀ Lupus Dei ⇀ Ouroboros ⇀ The Last Room In Paris ⇀ It Was The Night ⇀ Like Lightning ⇀ Beta Test ⇀ We Are Not Beasts ⇀ Ink Stains ⇀ You’ve Seen The Devil ⇀ In His Graces ⇀ A Lover’s Feast ⇀ First Time Caller

⁂ Kyungsoo ⇀ Appetite ⇀ Murmurations ⇀ In The Mood For Love

⁂ Sehun ⇀ Little Moons

BTS ⁂ Namjoon ⇀ Caine’s Finest Children ⇀ Kissing Vermilion ⇀ A Decent Happiness ⇀ Rhimdarr ⇀ Flowers On Wednesday ⇀ Midnight Connection ⇀ Debrief ⇀ My Love Is The Moon

⁂ Seokjin ⇀ Magnificat ⇀ The Vanishing

⁂ Yoongi ⇀ Leashed Demons

⁂ Hoseok ⇀ Your Emotions Are Imitations ⇀ Doomsick ⇀ Ala Morn ⇀ That New Hunger ⇀ Dies Irae ⇀ Meant To Be Yours ⇀ Manner of Man ⇀ Bone Taker ⇀ Second Skin ⇀ Vulgar & Divine ⇀ Casting Off ⇀ The Witch & The Wolf

⁂ Taehyung ⇀ Summoning Circles

⁂ Jungkook ⇀ 8:50AM

TVXQ ⁂ Yunho ⇀ The 16:50 Express

Stray Kids ⁂ Bang Chan ⇀ Vena Sera ⇀ A Taste Of You

⁂ Hyunjin ⇀ Collusive Perverson

#wip tag game

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highpope · 3 years ago

Text

pieced together pt. one

posting here too because not that many people have seen it also sorry for the weird spacing idk what’s going on

JJ Maybank x pogue reader - season 2 fic

spoiler warning!

You laid in bed watching the rain hit your windows, the radio downstairs faintly describes the fate of the world. You can’t make out complete sentences without straining, but you have heard enough from the last few days to know there were no updates about John B and Sarah. The radio has been on for days on end, your parents not wanting to miss any possible update about your friends or the storm that seemed never-ending. It was like it rained for years. It was a constant reminder of the night your two best friends were driven out into the storm and everything changed. You could hear Shoupe’s words in the back of your mind, “we lost ‘em' ' on a constant loop. You could see Kiara’s face and JJ’s hands and Pope’s heart shatter. Like all the stars had come falling down and you were the only one left to pick up all the pieces. You prayed this was all a nightmare. You could wake up and not only would they both be here, but you’d all be safe. You would give up the gold a hundred times over if it meant John B and Sarah would be home.

Both Pope and Kie’s parents had called your mom every night since that day. When she thought you were asleep, she would creep down the stairs and sit in the kitchen and cry, praying they had some good news. Something that could take away some of the pain you were in. But she couldn’t, no one could. You had to hear half the town talk about John B like he was a murderer like he kidnapped Sarah like he was some delusional kid from the cut. All while you knew the Cameron’s were roaming free and receiving sympathy for what they’re going through. It made you sick to think about. They had a private funeral for Sarah. People gave their condolences and spoke so kindly about her. They scoffed at her recent behavior and her newfound friendship from “those dirty pogues.”

Sometime around day two, your mom came into your room asking if you had heard from JJ. He had been with the Heyward’s up until that morning when he’d completely disappeared.

For a second, you felt something other than grief, knowing he had been with Pope and not his dad, but that was short-lived. You tried to imagine how peaceful it would have been under different circumstances, a world in which he was always safe. One where Luke Maybank had no control over his life. You wanted to get lost in that daydream, live in that alternative reality for a while. He wouldn’t have to keep a duffel bag full of clothes and cash under your bed for when things got bad. He wouldn’t have to know how to do stitches on himself or how to pop a dislocated shoulder back in place. He’d be safe. He’d be happy. She asked again if you had heard from JJ, snapping you back to reality. (you had not). You watched as her forehead creased and her lips straightened into a thin line, like something in her had broken too.

She hurts just as much as you do. At first, you contributed that to her not being able to take away your pain, which is part of it. But you later realized she’s lost a person, too. You had known John B since grade school, there were pictures of the group of you sitting on your swing set in your backyard at age nine. Ones of you, JJ, John B, and Pope asleep in your living room after attempting to build a fort. He stayed for dinners and birthday parties. She watched us grow up, every first day of school, soccer game, fishing tournament. Our families had somehow combined over the years. Not only does your mom hurt for you, but she lost a child. And that weight is heavier than anything.

You stopped crying by day three. Nothing left. You were completely and utterly numb but consumed by loss all at the same time. You hadn’t initially worried about JJ. He did this. He disappeared for a little, to clear his head, but he always came back. He never stayed away for more than three days. That’s how long it took for him to feel balanced again, maybe less, but never more. He said it was because he couldn’t get a burger as good as the ones at The Wreck anywhere else in the world, but you knew how much he loved the outer banks and the people there. You also knew that he’d never leave without you. And if he absolutely had to, he would at least say goodbye. He had to, he promised. You held on to that every time his phone went straight to voicemail. And when days four and five came and went and you still haven’t heard from him, you were worried. He should’ve crawled through your window in yesterday’s clothes with a few more scratches on his arm than he left with, but his eyes would glow a little brighter and he would still smile when you insisted he spends the night. So, when you cracked your window open and slept with your bedside lamp on (so that he could see the light from outside) and he still wasn’t there when you awoke, your mourning turned into something else. You sent a few texts, in case he somehow got them, but you were doubtful.

You didn’t know what it was like to live without him. There wasn’t a time in your life you could remember when you and JJ weren’t attached at the hip. Sometime around kindergarten, you two became inseparable, ultimately meeting John B and Pope as you got older and Kie when you all got to junior high. There was a weird couple of months around third grade where he decided girls had cooties, but it was short-lived because when JJ realized that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore he thought it was dumb and started coming over again. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when your relationship changed, the lines between friendship and something more merging and becoming blurred. If you had to, for you it was the start of sophomore year. Something changed when you were together, even just sitting in silence was comfortable and exciting. Eyes started lingering, touches became more frequent, and then one day you were just together. It’s been the same since. You think back to the first time you kissed like a couple. It definitely hadn’t been the first time the two of you had ever kissed. You were sure there had been at least one during your childhood and you vividly remember a New Year’s Eve party and a couple of games of truth or dare. But this time it was different. There was something behind it.

You and JJ sat side by side in the hammock outside of John B’s. He was smoking while using his one leg to rock the two of you slowly back and forth. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and pay attention to whatever story was being told. JJ must have noticed because he wrapped an arm around you, inviting you to lay on his chest.

This wasn’t uncommon between you. JJ was always physically affectionate toward the people he cared about and you had no problem reciprocating. You stayed just like that until it was just the two of you left outside.

JJ shifted slightly under your weight causing you to wake up. “Shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, tossing the tip of the blunt into the fire.

You nodded, “mhm.” You looked around, realizing how dark it had gotten, “You could’ve woken me up! It’s late.”

“You looked peaceful.”

You pretended to clutch your heart, “JJ Maybank being nice? Dare I say sweet?”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. He was smiling at you like you were the funniest person in the world.

“ No, no. You care about me,” you joked, poking his chest with your finger, “you loooove me.”

“ Yeah?” he challenged, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, your breath suddenly catching in your throat.

“What if I do?” He asked, but it wasn’t a question. His face was serious, a glimmer of hope in his crystal eyes.

You look slightly from his eyes to his lips. If JJ noticed he didn’t lead on. He just slowly bridged the gap between you, your noses brushing for a moment before your lips connected. It was slow and careful, not wanting to push too far, but all the same, wanting to completely unravel the other. His hand cupped your cheek, his rings cold against your flushed face as you leaned into the kiss.

You heard faint screams and cheers from inside the chateau and Pope’s “Finally!” echo out. You could feel him smiling and soon enough you were both laughing. You had finally come together and nothing would take that away.

On day six, the rain stopped and the world carried on as normal. You wanted to yell at every person you saw. How could anyone feel so neutral about anything that happened in the last week? The sheriff was dead, there was a murderer on the loose, your two best friends were gone, and your boyfriend was missing. But yeah, go ahead and go to the grocery store like any other Wednesday morning. Someone tell the earth, it’s not supposed to keep spinning after the world ends.

You were lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling as you tried to fall asleep, a breeze flowed through your window and your lamp illuminated the room. All you could hear were cicadas and the wind rustling through the trees until you heard your window creak and slide open. You tried to process everything all at once, your eyes scanning over every part of his body, trying to meet his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the last time you saw him. There was dirt under his fingernails and his face was puffy from crying. His lip was cracked and covered in dry blood and bruises littered his jaw and hands. You could cry at the mere sight of him. Before either of you could speak, you collided.

You held his head to your chest and placed kisses on his hairline. You tried to wipe your tears before he could see them, but it was no use. The two of you were a tangle of arms and legs, of broken hearts and misguided minds, so desperately trying to tell the other it was going to be okay without believing it yourself.

“I miss him so much,” he sobbed. Your heart fell to your stomach and everything you had pushed down the past few days came rushing back.

“Me too,” you breathed. JJ’s arms wrapped around your stomach and he buried his head into your neck. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, thinking that if you held on long enough the two of you wouldn’t fall apart.

You heard your door open slightly and you quickly turned your head to see your mom stood there, tears brimming her eyes. You can visibly see her shoulders relax as she lets out a sigh. Your door closes softly as if not to disturb you both. You hear her on the other side of the door, “he’s here. He’s okay.”

“My dad’s gone,” he murmured into your neck.

You can physically feel your heart break for the boy in your arms and the younger version of him, trying to find a space he belongs and mourning the only one he ever found. You want so badly to hold him together, paint all of his scars golden. To remind him how much people love him, how much you love him, but no words come out.

“Guess he finally picked up and left, son of a bitch” His voice wobbled, “I went back, uh, that night to find the necklace John B gave me.”

He pulled away so he could talk directly to you. You cupped his cheeks and swiped the tears with your thumbs before they could fall. He laughed dryly, remembering, ��Climbed through my bedroom window and everything. It should’ve taken two minutes tops but it wasn’t on my dresser like I thought it was. I tore my room apart looking for it. And then my dad came home and heard me, uh he was not happy to see me, as you can imagine.”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, moving farther away from him to make sure he wasn’t bleeding or worse.

He grabs your hands and brings them to his chest, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Is that where you were? The past few days,”

He nods, “yeah. I woke up the next day and he was gone. I was just going to get my stuff and go, but I don't know. Something wasn’t right.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, “They all really do leave, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” you urge.

“I’m just-”

“No. Do not think like that. None of this is your fault. Your dad is a fucking awful person for not loving you like you need to be loved. Like you deserve to be loved. And John B-” your voice cracks, “John B would never leave us if he didn’t have to and, and you have me. I couldn’t ever leave you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself

He kisses your knuckles, “I know, I know. He just has so much power over the way I think.”

“But you know. You know you are nothing like him.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes.

“These past few days, J. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

“Never.” He pushes his lips to yours, urgent and longing. You move your hands to his head, bringing him closer, trying to pour yourself into him.

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rosesvioletshardy · 3 years ago

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how to lose a hockey player in 10 days - mat barzal chapter 1

chapter 1 is finally here and i'm sorry for the wait hopefully you guys like it

also i don't think i mentioned this but the reader does use she/her pronouns

summary: when 2 people are given similar bets, things may not go the way they think it'll go

series masterlist

mat masterlist

main masterlist

# of words: 3,902

warnings: mentions of drinking (all characters are of age)

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It's been a few days since Y/N got the offer from Adam and a few days since she’s wondered if it was worth risking her career for something that she wanted. She knew she had to get an answer back to him before the season ended and playoffs began, but she couldn’t figure out what to do. On one hand, if she does it, she’ll be able to write about things she actually cares about and not things that could send a player off the edge if they read it. On the other hand, if she doesn’t, she’ll be stuck writing things that no one wants to read as long as it gets Adam and the company more money. She talked to her friends about it and they thought she should go for it, especially if she wanted to talk about something she cares about. Y/N was going to get more opinions from people she could trust but she was leaning towards the idea though she hated herself for it.

Now she was sitting in her living room with her roommates as they all sat around watching a game as usual for Y/N to talk about and write an article on later. Her roommates were often okay with her doing this almost every other night or her coming home late because she has to interview players before and after games, not to mention her eyes being focused on either her computer or her phone so she made sure to have the perfect article written. This time it was different. They wanted to do something different rather than just go to sleep after writing down notes and highlights from the game.

“We need a night out.” melissa blurted out as the 2nd period came to an end

“What?” Y/N asked shocked, seeing that it was a weeknight and that they all had work the next day

“We. need. A. night. Out.” melissa said taking a small pause between each word

“She’s right. Specifically you. You overwork yourself too much.” jack mentioned

“Exactly. Also didn’t you have this like bet thing with your boss? That’s the best way to meet a guy, like I know there are single guys on both teams that are our age or even near our age. It may be Wednesday night, but you haven’t gone out since who knows how long.” melissa exaggerated

She wasn’t wrong. Either the islanders or the devils would probably be out celebrating after the game tonight and you couldn’t help but pull yourself together to say the words and plus the three of you haven’t hung out alone that didn’t involve more friends of theirs since who knows how long

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll go. Just let me finish writing my notes and let the game finish?”

The two roommates simply just nodded and went back to paying attention to the game. Y/N couldn’t help but think about the consequences that’ll come out of what she’ll be doing. She quickly shook away the thoughts and looked over to her friends. She knew that they would support anything she did and she was the same with them. When she first told them about what she and Adam had talked about, they first thought she was crazy but they supported her and would stand by her incase she needed reassurance.

For Mat on the other hand, the night out after a game meant a celebration night rather than needing a night out in general. After scoring the overtime goal, he figured that there was going to some sort of celebration with rounds on him. He didn’t mind it, especially if it meant celebrating him. The locker room was filled with the electric energy of the guys congratulating him as soon as he came back from the post game interview with claps and yelling going all around.

The ride over to the bar was quiet, there was occasional talk before they entered and headed over to their usual spot. Jack ordered their usual drinks as they tried to spot out anyone. The three friends subtly scanned the bar but not trying to make themselves seem suspicious. On the other side of the bar, two hockey players sat as they talked. One with his girlfriend by his side and the other by himself. Their team had their wives or girlfriends out with them if they were able to make it but it was their star player who truly stood out. His best friend has been trying for the longest time to set him up, but in the end, they were never successful

“I’m just saying, you need a girlfriend. Like right now.”

“No I don’t, we have playoffs to focus on and no offense to Riley, but a girl at the moment will just be a distraction. Not to mention I can make any girl fall in love with me, it doesn’t matter if it’s 1 day or 5 months. I can sell myself to any woman”

“Alright, alright I give up. If that’s how you want to be then” Anthony said while taking a sip of his beer

“No, I’m not done with this.” his girlfriend, Riley, said leaning forward getting more interested as to how Mat was acting

“Alright, I'll tell you this. If you can get a girl to fall in love with you in 10 days, then we’ll stop trying to set you up” she finishes

“I’m down with that” anthony added now interested as to what his girlfriend just said

Mat sat there and pondered for a moment as to what Riley told him. There were things that he could get out of but part of him was telling him that it was a bad idea but the other part of him told him to go for it, especially if it meant that Anthony and Riley would stop setting him up.

“Why 10 days though?” Mat asked, curious about why Riley had chose that specific time frame but not questioning it further after his question

“5 days is too short and 5 months is too long” Riley started

“I mean I fell in love with Beau a week into dating but I didn’t say it until 3 weeks” she finished making beau shrug and smile as he remembered the day and immediately told mat as soon as she was gone

“Alright i’ll take that bet” he said, leaning forward over the table with a hint cockiness in his tone

“You sound a little cocky there Mathew” Riley said

“Not cocky, confident”

“Okay then, at the end of the season gala, if you go to it with a girl that’s really in love with you, then we stop setting you up or bothering you about your singleness” Riley concluded shaking Mat’s hand taking that the bet was now on

“One condition: she has to be within our age. Meaning no one older than 24, but not younger than 21.” mat had explained to them

“Fine.”

The three then scanned the entire bar looking for someone that can fulfill the bet that was made. On the other side of the bar sat the other three friends looking for someone for a similar reason. It was hard for the both of them since neither party knew who was single and who wasn’t and whatever choice someone made there was a downside to it. There was either a partner that they weren’t aware of, they were a little older than their age range, etc. It wasn’t until Jack spotted someone he was familiar with. He nudged Melissa’s arm making her smirk and nudged Y/N making her look over. Mat Barzal. Melissa saw that he wasn’t with anyone and knew that he could possibly be single and good for Y/N. Riley and Anthony looked over and saw her and looked at each other. Riley recognized Y/N. She’s seen her in the building they both worked at and gossip tended to spread around there quickly but it never left the fifth floor but they’ve maybe only interacted with each other once. Riley soon nudged Anthony signaling that she needed to talk to him in private. “Hey, we’re going to get more drinks, do you want anything?” Anthony lied to Mat

“No, I'm fine.” he answered back, showing that his beer was still somewhat full. When they slipped away, Riley pulled him to the bar where they were somewhat out of Mat’s view but still visible

“What, why’d you drag me here?” anthony asked while signaling for another drink

“Over there at the table, 2 girls and 1 guy. We have to get Mat to notice her. I’ve seen her in the building I work at. I think her name was like Y/N or something.”

“Okay what does this have to do with anything” anthony questioned

“Someone told me she’s working on an article and has to observe for 10 days on a hockey player. I love Mat, I really do and he’s our friend and I know we said we won’t mess with his love life and such but the bet and everything.”

“But”

“But I think she could do it for him” Riley finished as they looked over to her talking to her friends

The two smiled at Mat who was looking around the bar to try and find someone but not make it too obvious as to who they were looking at. They threw in some jokes at who their friend should date but they decided to be serious about the situation and kicked Mat’s shin, making him yell out in pain

“Ow! What the fuck was that for Riles?!”

“You see that girl? On the other side sitting with the guy and the girl? I think we found your target” riley said sitting back in her seat

“This is your chance. That’s fucking Mat Barzal. He could be easy” Melissa yelled in Y/N’s ear over the loud chatter

“I know”

“Looks like he’s looking over to you” jack added on as he saw Mat look over in your direction, with a smirk before looking away and went back to talking to his friends

“I’m going to get a drink” Y/N told them as she slid out of her seat, empty handed

“But your drink-oh okay i see what you’re doing, go ahead” Melissa finally caught on as she let you go

Y/N ordered a new drink and pretended to throw looks over her shoulder, trying to get Mat to notice her. Mat did notice her but he tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at her and just gave a smirk while looking away. It went on like that for a few minutes and Y/N had sent Melissa and Jack texts in their group chat about whether or not Mat was going to get up from his seat and make a move on her. Mat noticed what she was doing and knew it was bothering her, so he kept it going for a few more minutes before he set his drink down and slid out of his drink

“Where are you going?” Anthony asked his best friend out of curiosity, knowing what he was going to do

“I’m going to get a new drink” mat smirked

He walked through the small crowd as people congratulated him over to the bar where there were a few people drinking, including Y/N. He waved down the bartender signaling for another beer and while he waited, he saw the woman from the side of his eye as she slowly took small sips of her drink.

“Hi” Mat voiced, making Y/N turn her head to him

“Hi” Y/N voiced as he began to talk to her, making them both smile

“I’m Mat”

“This is going to sound weird, but I know. Mat Barzal of the New York Islanders” Y/N started

“But I’m Y/N L/N” she finished

“Pretty sure I knew you knew who I was but it still didn’t stop me from coming over here. Especially after you’ve been throwing looks to me all night”

“And who said you haven’t been throwing looks at me? You came over here to talk to me by pretending to say you needed a new drink to your friends, when yours looks half full.” Y/N shot back as mat laughed and looked down before looking back at her

“Okay you got me there, but I couldn't help it. Especially when the person I wanted to talk is so beautiful” Mat told her as his voice got lower, causing the blood to rush to Y/N’s face

“You really know your way to make a girl blush don’t you”

“Well I have been known to break hearts since I was a teenager” he finished as the two smiled and stared in silence

“Unattached?” Mat asked Y/N with curiosity

“Currently” she answered

“Likewise” Mat agreed, adjusting in his seat

“Surprising” Y/N said sarcastically

“Psycho?” he shot back, joking

“Rarely” she answered leaning forward, smirking

“Interested?”

“Perhaps”

“Hungry?”

“Starving”

“Leaving?”

“Now?”

“Mmhm”

“Okay, one second” she told him getting out of her seat and headed over to where Jack and Melissa were

“So?” Melissa asked leaning over the table

“We’re going out now for something to eat. I’m going to see if he’s the keeper”

“And if he is?”

“Tomorrow night, i’ll flip the switch” she finished handing over her car keys over to them as she turned around to walk back to Mat who was now waiting at the door

“Good luck babe.” Melissa started

“And be safe!” jack finished as the two watched their friend walk out with the hockey player as he put his hand on her back while opening the door for her to leave first

“This isn’t going to end well”

“Yeah, but we have to support her” melissa added as she took the rest of Y/N’s drink

Y/N and Mat walked out and headed towards Mat’s car where he proceeded to open the door for her so she could get in. She thanked him before climbing in as he walked around to go to the driver’s side. The car ride wasn’t silent as the radio played quietly and the two adults began to talk a little more about themselves before arriving at the restaurant that Anders had told the team about before. Mat was doing his best to impress her by being the perfect gentlemen that his mom taught him to be and making sure all his attention was on Y/N, despite them meeting and going out for about an hour

“Alright, what do you think” mat asked breaking the silence after he had just broken another crab leg

“About the food or you?” Y/N questioned him

“Both”

“This is delicious, and I’m still deciding” She winked, making him laugh

“Well, is there anything I can do to help” he asked before taking a drink of his water

“Yeah, you can answer some questions for me” Y/N started as if she didn’t know much about him already

““Some” sounds a little too indefinite and since I already answered a bunch today, I’ll let you have three”

“Are you guys always out celebrating with beers and drinks after clinching a playoff spot”

“I mean, i mean we’re not supposed to but a little alcohol every once in a while with a little partying doesn’t hurt anyone” he answered honestly before continuing

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Y/N had answered with a confused look

“Your name sounds familiar, have I seen or heard of you before”

“I do work with the NHL and write articles, specifically within the New York area, so you may have had a question from me or so before and after games” she answered, the last part being half a lie about having to have asked him stuff seeing she preferred to be behind the computer majority of the time and mainly worked with the Rangers and would rarely be called to work with the Islanders

“Okay now your voice and your name seems familiar” mat started

“I don’t mean to impose or sound rude, but how come you choose to only write?” he finished

“I’m honestly not sure. I do love talking to people about what they do but it’s the way that the questions sometimes come out and sometimes you don’t get the response you want or they sometimes take it the wrong way. You think with a masters you’d know how to talk” Y/N explained to him as he genuinely listened to her

“I still got one more question to ask you”

“Go ahead” mat responded leaning in

“True or false: all’s fair in love and war” Y/N asked him as mat let out a small chuckle before answering

“True” he answered, making them both smile.

The two of them continued to eat and talk until they realized that they were some of the few people left there and had the owner come up to them and ask them to leave. After they looked at the clock, they quickly thanked them and paid for their food before heading back to Mat’s car. They had decided to go back to Mat’s for the night seeing that Anthony was going to be with Riley and it meant that Mat would get some alone time with Y/N to see who she was. Same with Y/N, she thought it was a great idea and would tell Jack and Melissa about it soon.

When they entered his apartment, she took in every detail that was inside. Y/N noticed the pictures of the team, his family and friends that were on the side table where Mat dropped his keys on. It wasn’t really what she was expecting for someone his age, but she figured that his mom and sister could've helped him and Anthony out when they first got it.

“Nice place, it’s very tidy”

“Thank you, probably wasn’t what you were expecting? Can I get you a cold beer?” he asked as he headed into his kitchen

“Sure. Can I use your restroom?” Y/N asked before Mat told her where it was

As she was walking up the stairs, she noticed that it wasn’t filled with a lot of things but it wasn’t bare either. There would be the occasional wall art you’d find at a Home Goods but it still fit who he was as a person. Y/N didn’t need to use the bathroom, but she did need to call her friends to tell them what was going on

“Finally you call! What’s going on?” Melissa exclaimed already begging for any kind of juice

“Nothing’s going on right now, but we did go to a restaurant and stayed there until close just talking and now-” Y/N began before Jack cut her off

“And now what?” he asked curious as to how she said it

“I’m in his apartment?”

“HIS APARTMENT?!” Melissa yelled causing Y/N to move her phone away from her ear as she snooped in the mirror cabinet

“Melissa, I’m not going to sleep with him”

“Oh that is a lie. You can’t hide those lyin’ eyes”

“No, no. Because I can practice some self-control, unlike some people” Y/N said,

“Wow Y/N that hurt” Jack said holding his hand to his heart

“Anyways, i’m going to dangle the bait-” “What’s the bait?” Melissa asked confused at her friend’s wording

“She’s the bait” jack explained

“Okay, got it then what?” Melissa then asked

“Oh shit I can’t talk right now, I have to go. It sounds like he has some music playing” Y/N said as she began to hear music from his bedroom

“Record everything! Take notes! We’ll talk about this later!” Melissa finished before Y/N finished the call

Mat was downstairs making sure everything was looking good and was tidy before playing something from his smooth R&B playlist and grabbing the beers. It’s kind of weird that he might now have done this with a regular date but because of the bet, he wanted to make sure that everything was going according to plan and that he could get Y/N to fall in love with him. When she exited the bathroom, she didn’t really expect much to happen but she saw the candles lit and heard the music playing before Mat came and gave her the opened beer.

“There you go”

“Thank you”

The two smiled at each other before Y/N decided to pull an ultimate move and place her bag down on his bed and laid down. Mat had no clue as to what she was doing but it was working for him and she could see it through the way his breath hitched as she rubbed the spot next to her. He walked back and leaned against his dresser. She continued to pat the spot making him laugh and pat the spot on the dresser next to him. She gave in and got up and went over to him before she looked at him and pressed her lips against his. He quickly pulled away after a few seconds, and whispered

“Hey, let’s not go too fast”

“Yeah. yeah.” Y/N agreed before pulling away and started to get up before Mat stood up and pulled her in for another kiss. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck after setting their beers down and began to kiss back. She soon pulled away and decided what to do next.

“We’re moving too fast. You’re right-it’s too fast”

“Okay” he answered as they both pulled in and locked their lips together.

Mat held onto her waist before he moved them to his bed. He began to kiss along her neck before she began to talk again, knowing it would frustrate him

“Still too fast. I’m sorry. I want you to respect me.”

“I do. And I want your respect”

“I respect you for respecting me”

“I respect that”

“Good” she finished knowing she got him right where she wanted him as they both got up. The two of them sat in silence before Y/N decided it was a good time for her to leave and continue with her plan.

“I’m going to go.”

“I can take y-” Mat began before Y/N cut him off

“No, it's fine. Um. I can call an uber.”

“Okay. Can I at least get your number?”

“For you? Anything” she smirked as she took a pen off his night stand and wrote her number, more importantly her work number, on his arm

“This is my work number. It’s not fake, don't worry. Maybe I can give you my phone number soon” she said as he let out a laugh

“Okay that’s cool. I see what you’re doing.” he started

“I’ll call you tomorrow after practice”

“I’ll be expecting it. Good night mat” Y/N said as she kissed his cheek before heading to her uber

After she had left through the door, Mat went out to his balcony and watched her get inside the car but before, they stood there staring at each other

“Goodnight Y/N L/N” he had yelled from his balcony as she just waved to him

“Oh you are already falling in love with me” he said to himself, smiling at her

“I’m gonna make you wish you were dead” Y/N said to herself as she blew him a kiss before climbing in

Mat walked back in his room, smirking at the thought that she had left her purse on his nightstand.

#i hope you guys like this #also sorry for the long wait for it and the constant postponing #htlahp #new york islanders #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal fanfic

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