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hsjazebel · 3 months ago

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The first fight - A Meant to Be extra

A/n: I knew I had to write their first fight at some point, and here we are! I love exploring the more vulnerable sides of their relationship—because even the best couples have their moments. But at the end of the day, they always find their way back to each other. Hope you all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think!

Summary: Harry and Y/N experience their first real argument, but even in the midst of frustration, love has a way of shining through

Wordcount: 5k

Meant to be | masterlist

———

Y/N had never liked conflict.

She had always been the kind of person to avoid fights whenever possible, to keep the peace, to hold her tongue even when something didn’t sit right. She hated the way her stomach twisted when voices were raised, the way her throat went dry when the air grew tense.

And yet, here she was, standing in the middle of her apartment, her heart pounding as she faced Harry—who, for the first time since she had known him, looked genuinely upset with her.

She could see it in the way his jaw was tight, in the crease between his brows, in the way he kept running a hand through his hair like he was trying to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.

“I don’t understand,” he said, voice low but firm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N folded her arms over her chest, shifting uncomfortably. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Harry let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Not a big deal,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Right. So you passing out in the middle of class isn’t a big deal to you?”

She flinched.

Charlotte had told him.

She had known it would come out eventually, but she had hoped—stupidly—that maybe she could get away with brushing it off, that maybe she wouldn’t have to explain herself.

But now Harry was standing in front of her, looking equal parts worried and frustrated, and there was no getting out of it.

“I didn’t pass out,” she muttered, staring at the floor. “I just… got a little lightheaded.”

Harry let out a sharp breath. “Jesus, Y/N.” He dragged a hand down his face, his fingers briefly pressing into his temples like he was trying to keep himself calm. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Her stomach twisted.

She knew why he was upset.

She knew.

But she hated the way his voice sounded—strained, like he was forcing himself to hold back. She hated the way he was looking at her, like she had let him down.

“I didn’t want to make you worry,” she said, voice quieter now.

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, that worked out great, didn’t it?”

Y/N inhaled sharply, frustration bubbling in her chest. “I was fine, Harry—”

“You weren’t fine,” he cut her off. “You weren’t eating properly, you weren’t sleeping, you were running yourself into the ground—and you didn’t tell me.”

His voice rose slightly at the end, not quite yelling, but close.

Y/N clenched her jaw, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I didn’t want you to drop everything for me,” she admitted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to fix me.”

Harry exhaled, his expression darkening. “Is that really what you think? That I’d only care about you if I thought you needed fixing?”

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly feeling small. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?” His voice was still firm, but there was something else in it now—something almost vulnerable. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you don’t trust me enough to let me be there for you.”

That hit her harder than she expected.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Because maybe—maybe, deep down—that was exactly what it was.

She wasn’t used to leaning on people. She had spent so much of her life convincing herself that she had to handle things on her own, that asking for help meant burdening the people she loved.

And she had done the same thing to Harry.

She had shut him out, not because she didn’t trust him, but because she hadn’t wanted to let herself need him.

Her chest ached.

“Harry…” Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before meeting her eyes again. His frustration was still there, but now, it was mixed with something else.

Hurt.

“I just don’t get it,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I thought we were in this together.”

Y/N blinked rapidly, her throat suddenly tight.

“We are,” she whispered.

Harry ran a hand through his curls again, looking at her like he was trying to find the truth in her words.

“Then act like it.” His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. “Because I can’t—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I can’t be with someone who won’t let me in.”

Something inside her cracked at that.

Because the thought of losing him? Of this—them—falling apart because of her own stubbornness?

It was unbearable.

She stepped forward, hesitating for just a second before reaching for his hand.

He didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was stupid, and stubborn, and I should have told you.” She squeezed his fingers. “I trust you. I do. I just… I’m still learning how to let myself need people.”

Harry sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly as some of the tension drained out of him.

“I just…” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “I love you, Y/N. And it scares me—really scares me—that you thought you had to go through this alone.”

Her breath caught.

He had said it before, of course. I love you. In soft whispers, in laughter, in sleepy murmurs against her skin.

But this was different.

This was raw. Real.

Y/N felt her chest tighten, and before she could second-guess it, she tugged him closer, wrapping her arms around him.

Harry exhaled against her hair, his arms immediately coming around her, holding her tightly like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the remnants of their fight still lingering in the air—but underneath it, something stronger.

Something that told her they would be okay.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her heart pounding.

“I love you, too,” she murmured. “And I promise—I’ll try to be better at this.”

Harry searched her face, his green eyes softening.

Then, finally, he nodded.

“Okay.”

Y/N smiled, small but real. “Okay.”

And just like that, they found their way back to each other.

They still had things to talk about—things to figure out.

But for now, she let herself sink into him, his arms wrapped securely around her, his steady heartbeat under her cheek.

Because despite everything—despite the fight, the frustration, the stubbornness—one thing remained true.

They were still meant to be.

#harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles blog #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #meant to be #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harry styles angst #harry fic #harry fanfiction

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago

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Can I request headcanons for Logan and Wade with shy gn s/o please?

I’m going to assume separate unless told otherwise as poly relationship between Wade/Logan and reader would be cool too, but again unless specified I’m just going to assume it’s separate.

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Wade found your shyness adorable but found your reactions to his teasing and flirting.

And he abuses the shit out of that to his hearts content.

Mouse was a nickname that you were given almost immediately from the moment you met as you were quiet and cute as one too that to Wade it just fit you perfectly.

Wade; stop being so fucking cute!

You: huh?

Wade: you heard me! It should be illegal to be as cute as you! You should be locked up for the thing you do to me, but I’d rather keep ahold of the details because half of them might make you faint little mouse.

You: oh. 😶🫣

Wade will make it a tradition to take you by surprise, whether it be by randomly kissing you, hugging you from behind, playfully smacking your ass, it didn’t matter because your tendency to whine his name out in embarrassment ‘waaaaddde!’ Before hiding your face in his chest as he laughs and whispers teasing words into your ear that only makes your flustered state worsen.

Wade didn’t mind that you were shy, he really didn’t as he found it to be one of the many things he loved about you and wanted to protect, he didn’t want you to feel as though you should have to change to better fit him when he was more content with you being you.

He’s never had as much fun nor laughter in his life like he did when he was with you, and Wade considered himself lucky to have someone as soft and sweet as you that he often times thought you’d be better off without a fuck up like him in your life but he’d kept it to himself, disguising it with humour and teasing you instead.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

Logan finds you being shy amusing to say the least.

It brought his protective instincts out as someone as soft and shy and softly spoken as you would need him by your side 24/7.

He’s your guard dog, scary dog privilege in the form of a very traumatised man who’s became more familiar with pain and heartbreak than the tender affection and touches you give him.

So you found it best to be patient with Logan and give him time to become familiar with your love and affection until he felt ready to reciprocate in his own way. And Logan appreciated you for that and would let you know his appreciation by planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

Logan is a softy with you and while he’s quick to bite back at other people, with you he’s much softer with his words that they’re practically sweet murmurs whispered within your ear, as he held you against his chest protectively as you both drifted off to sleep.

He more or less acts as your voice whenever you felt discomfort, he’d could easily tell from your bodily language and would immediately step in, and voice your discomfort for you in your stead for Logan knew that you’d rather avoid conflict then delve headfirst into it like him.

However Logan would be the type to try and teach you ways to defend yourself and how to stick up for yourself when he couldn’t, this is probably out of his fear of losing someone dear to his heart again, but he wasn’t about to risk looking you when he could give you the tools to keep yourself safe while he was away.

He gives you his jacket, just make sure that the point gets across that you were his and not theirs, after all he’s a possessive man who doesn’t like sharing what’s his with anyone else.

He didn’t care about anyone else, you were the only thing he gave two shits about alongside Laura Kinney (x 23) other then you two, nothing else mattered to Logan. He just wanted you to be happy for as long as possible.

Side note: he’d love it if you and Laura got along, it’ll mean all the more to him.

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sofiatarot · 5 months ago

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What Is Your Future Self Dying to Tell You? Pick a Card

TIP JAR - FREE READINGS - PAID READINGS

1.2

3.4

Group 1

Your future self is asking you to recognize where you’ve been neglecting your own growth. There’s a part of you that’s been putting others first or investing energy into situations that drain rather than nourish you. It’s time to shift your focus inward. Reflect on the ways you might be holding yourself back by ignoring your needs and desires. You have the ability to create abundance, but it starts with taking care of your foundation.

Clarity will come once you stop second-guessing yourself. You’ve been searching for answers outside of yourself, but your intuition already knows the truth. The uncertainty you feel is temporary, and they want you to trust your inner voice. Stop looking for validation in others and begin to trust your own instincts.

You might feel as though your efforts aren’t paying off, but the future-you is here to remind you that not all seeds bear fruit immediately. Some situations aren’t meant to grow, and it’s okay to let them go. Focus on what truly matters to you, rather than trying to force outcomes that aren’t aligned with your path.

There’s a message here about communication and observation. You may be learning valuable lessons by watching how others handle conflict or challenges. Your future self encourages you to approach situations with curiosity rather than judgment. Be mindful of your words, as they hold the power to heal or hurt.

Rest and reflection are crucial right now. You may have been pushing yourself too hard, and it’s affecting your ability to make clear decisions. Take a step back and allow yourself the space to recover. Your future self reassures you that rest is productive—it prepares you for the next chapter.

There’s a lesson here about letting go of the need to "win" at all costs. They want you to prioritize peace over pride. It’s time to walk away from conflicts that drain your energy. Choose your battles wisely, and don’t allow others to pull you into unnecessary drama.

Finally, this future version of you is guiding you toward balance. There’s a sense of harmony waiting for you, but it requires you to juggle your priorities with care. Celebrate the small victories along the way, and remember that true stability comes from within. Your efforts will lead you to a place of celebration and fulfillment.

Group 2

Your future self wants you to know that the delays you’re experiencing are not failures. It’s natural to feel frustrated when things don’t go as planned, but these setbacks are helping you build resilience. This is a time to focus on refining your goals rather than rushing ahead. Trust that the universe has a plan, even if it’s not immediately clear to you.

Conflict or competition may be present in your life, but your future self encourages you to see this as an opportunity for growth. Challenges can help you sharpen your skills and clarify your priorities. Stay grounded and avoid getting swept up in unnecessary arguments. Choose collaboration over conflict whenever possible.

Abundance is within your reach, and they want you to know that your hard work will pay off. There’s a sense of independence and self-sufficiency in your future, but it requires you to stay committed to your goals. Celebrate the progress you’ve made and take pride in how far you’ve come.

There’s a warning here about seeking external validation. They want to remind you that success is not about the approval of others. Focus on your own definition of fulfillment rather than trying to live up to someone else’s expectations. Stay true to yourself, even when it feels like the world is pulling you in different directions.

A new emotional beginning is on the horizon. This future-you is encouraging you to open your heart to new opportunities for love, connection, or creativity. Let go of past disappointments and make space for something beautiful to enter your life. Trust that you are worthy of the joy that’s coming your way.

You might feel a sense of lack or loss, but they want you to know that this is temporary. Sometimes, letting go is necessary to make room for something better. Don’t be afraid to walk away from what no longer serves you, even if it’s difficult. Trust that brighter days are ahead.

Your future self sees you stepping into a more confident and adventurous version of yourself. Embrace your passions, and don’t be afraid to take risks. However, remember to protect your energy and resources. Balance your drive with practicality, and you’ll find yourself creating a life that feels both exciting and secure.

Group 3

Your future self sees you standing at a crossroads, where the options seem endless but also overwhelming. You may feel unsure of what direction to take or what is truly meant for you. The key is to listen to your inner guidance and trust that clarity will come when you step away from external distractions. Avoid the temptation to overanalyze; your intuition holds the answers you seek.

You’re being reminded of the power of stillness and observation. They want you to embrace patience and allow things to unfold naturally. There’s wisdom in knowing when to act and when to simply observe. This is a time to rely on your inner strength and trust in divine timing, even if the path ahead isn’t fully illuminated yet.

There’s a sense that you may be ignoring a difficult decision or avoiding something that requires your attention. This future-you urges you to face these challenges head-on. You’re stronger than you realize, and the discomfort you feel now is only temporary. Once you take action, the weight you’re carrying will begin to lift.

Life may feel unpredictable, as if things are happening beyond your control. They want you to know that even when life seems chaotic, there’s a greater plan at work. Trust that the cycles of change are ultimately bringing you closer to where you need to be. Adaptability is your greatest strength right now.

Despite the challenges, there’s light shining through. Your future self sees you rediscovering your joy and reconnecting with the things that truly make you happy. Focus on the simple pleasures and the people who bring positivity into your life. Gratitude will guide you through any darkness you’re currently experiencing.

They want you to address the doubts or insecurities that have been holding you back. It’s time to release limiting beliefs and embrace your potential fully. Stop underestimating your ability to create the life you envision. You’re capable of achieving more than you give yourself credit for.

Finally, your future self sees you breaking free from the burdens you’ve been carrying. There’s a celebration in your future—a moment where everything clicks, and you realize the hard work has been worth it. Trust in your resilience and your ability to overcome any obstacles in your path. Transformation is inevitable, and it will bring you closer to your highest self.

Group 4

Your future self wants you to reflect on how your past may be influencing your present. There’s something you’re holding onto—perhaps an old memory, relationship, or way of thinking—that is keeping you stuck. It’s time to release what no longer serves you and make space for the new. Healing begins when you acknowledge and let go.

Heartache or disappointment may be weighing heavily on your spirit, but they assure you that this is not the end of your story. Pain often carries lessons, and from these lessons, you’ll grow stronger. Be kind to yourself as you navigate this period of emotional recovery.

You might feel like the world is working against you or that your efforts are going unnoticed. They want you to know that even setbacks are part of the bigger picture. Sometimes, things fall apart so that you can rebuild in a way that’s more aligned with your true purpose.

Stagnation may be frustrating, but this future-you encourages you to focus on the small victories rather than the bigger picture right now. Progress doesn’t always look like forward motion; sometimes, it’s about learning to be patient and trust the process. The answers will come when you stop forcing them.

A breakthrough is on its way, and your future self wants you to embrace this moment of clarity, where the truth becomes undeniable. Use this newfound insight to move forward with confidence and determination. Trust your ability to make decisions that honor your needs and values.

They see you stepping into your power. There’s a fierceness within you, a determination to rise above any challenges. You’re being called to lead with both courage and compassion. Take bold action toward your goals, and don’t let fear hold you back.

Ultimately, your future self is here to remind you that the wheel of life keeps turning. Even when things feel uncertain, change is inevitable. Trust in the cycles of growth and renewal. What may feel like an ending is actually a new beginning. You are stronger than you realize, and this is only the start of an incredible transformation.

-xoxo ✨️

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another-random-fanfic-blog · 19 days ago

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Fates Entwined Ch. 2

Warnings: 18+ , mentions of sexual assault, abuse

Summary: You rescues 8 hybrids that are about to die.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You blink groggily before fully opening your eyes, turning your head, you see the sleeping panther before you, sound asleep, slightly snoring. Letting out a small yawn, you slowly slip from your bed before heading to the bathroom to shower, loving the feel of hot water wash over you as you avoid thinking of all of the things that you will need to do today. Once you’re cleaned and dressed you take enough clothes out for all the hybrids and place them on your chair, then head downstairs, walking as quietly as possible, making sure you don’t wake any of the hybrids that are sleeping, knowing that they have sensitive hearing. You make yourself breakfast and make sure you have enough food for the hybrids whenever they decide to wake up. Sitting on the couch you go through emails, do some online shopping for hybrid stuff, and then look at hybrid and hybrid friendly stores in the area that have things they may like. You also buy each hybrid collars that look like necklaces, multiple different styles, in eight of every color they have, so that your hybrids have a choice of what they want, knowing there is no way around them having to wear collars. Once you’re done, you find yourself yawning and decide to lay down on the couch for a nap, dozing off immediately.

You don’t know how long you were asleep, but you wake up to the sound of shattering glass and panicked yelling. Opening your eyes, you see a panicked squirrel in front of you, gripping his hair as he keeps yelling over other voices. You sit up quickly and look around, everyone is panicked, and Seonghwa is on his hands and knees picking up pieces of broken glass. Finally waking up enough to understand something is wrong, you let out a loud piercing whistle, silencing everyone and causing them to freeze in their spots.

“Seonghwa, freeze,” you say, causing the bunny to stop what he was doing body going stiff as a board. “I will clean that up, I don’t want you to cut yourself.” You turn to Hongjoong, “What were you yelling about?”

Hongjoong looks at you, blinks a few times, and then yells “Where is San? What did you do with him?”

“He’s sleeping in my room,” you say calmly, understanding their panic now, “He showed up in the middle of the night and asked if he could sleep in there. Why don’t you all go wake him up and I will find something for breakfast.”

All the hybrids rush upstairs, Seonghwa looking slightly conflicted about leaving a mess, but decides to follow, leaving you to hoist yourself off the couch and start cleaning.

Hybrids

They all run upstairs as fast as they can, bursting through Y/N’s bedroom door and finding San sprawled across the bed sound asleep, dead to the world. The hybrids freeze at the sight of their friend, not knowing the panic he caused everyone by disappearing.

“SAN!” Yeosang yells, startling everyone and causing San to shoot up out of the bed, looking around wildly before seeing his friends. He immediately sits back on the bed and rubs the sleep form his eyes.

“Good morning,” San says with a gravelly voice.

“What the hell?” Wooyoung yells as he climbs onto the bed with San. “We woke up and you were gone, do you know how scared we were?”

“What’d you mean?” San asks, still not awake, but watching as all the other hybrids crawl onto your bed.

“We woke up and you were gone,” Yunho says, “We thought something bad happened to you, that you were taken away or something.”

San looks down at his hands blushing and looking guilty about worrying his friends.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I just…I don’t know, Y/n was so nice that I hoped they’d let me cuddle them, so…I asked if I could and they said yes. I just…I want an owner who won’t push me away, try to hurt me, and will cuddle when I want, and I was so excited that I may have found someone.”

Seonghwa quickly covers Hongjoong’s mouth so he can’t say anything to hurt San and begins to speak.

“It’s fine, and I hope that Y/n is like that as well, but we need to find a way to leave a message for the others so we don’t panic next time.” Seonghwa finishes, lowering his hand from Hongjoong and running his fingers through San’s hair.

“Did anything happen while you were in here?” Hongjoong asks, eyes examining San for anything out of place.

“No, Y/n woke up, I startled her, then she moved over and let me climb under the covers, and we went to sleep. Y/n didn’t touch me or anything, though I kind of wished she would have hugged me.” San replies, slightly pouting.

“I’m sure she needs time to get used to us as well,” Jongho mentions while picking at the blanket, blushing when everyone looks at him. “It looked like she lived alone before us, she is probably adjusting the same as we are.”

“I agree with Jongho,” comes a muffled voice, causing everyone to look and see Mingi with his face buried in your pillow, arms wrapped around it.

“Mingi, give me that,” Wooyoung says, tugging at the pillow, trying to remove it from Mingi.

“No, you just want to steal it.”

“Do not, now give it.”

“NO!”

“BOYS!” Seonghwa yells, getting both their attention, “put the pillow down, it isn’t ours, so don’t ruin it.”

Mingi pouts as he puts it down, but quickly lays on it so no one else can take it, causing Wooyoung to pout and then wrap his arms around San.

“You smell like her,” Wooyoung says, burying his face in Sans neck and taking a deep breath, while San just moves his head to the side, letting Wooyoung inhale your mixed scents and then mark San to add his.

“Her scent calms me,” comes the small and tired voice of Yeosang, who is barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the foot of the bed, Yunho reaching down to run his fingers through Yeosang’s hair. “I’m tired again.”

Before anyone else can say anything, you knock on the door, earning multiple ‘come in’ replies. When you enter your room, you see all the hybrids laying on your bed, San half asleep while Wooyoung rubs his face in San’s neck, Mingi and Yeosang looking like they were out, Yunho playing with Yeosang’s hair, Jongho sitting in the middle of the bed, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong sitting on the side closest to you but also near San.

“How are you all doing,” you ask, earning multiple replies of good or tired. “I wanted to know what you wanted to do today. You can relax here, or I can take you out shopping to get you clothes, toys, whatever you want. I’ll take you shopping at some point anyways, but thought you may want your own clothes sooner rather than later. You can talk amongst yourselves, there are clothes for you on the chair here, and I will go down and make breakfast. I have waffles, pancakes, eggs, and bacon, as well as fruits and veggies, oh, and oatmeal…I’ll just make some of everything and you can pick.”

With that, you turn and leave the room, heading down to cook the breakfast, while Seonghwa looks over the clothes you laid out for everyone, letting everyone take what they want.

“Let’s get cleaned up then head down, we should go shopping today,” Seonghwa says, silencing Hongjoong with a look.

He knew Hongjoong and Yunho were a bit standoffish with you, not wanting to trust you just yet, but Yunho hid it better than Joong. The one that surprised him was Jongho. Seonghwa expected Jongho to be distant, but instead, Jongho tried to convince everyone to trust you. It made Seonghwa smile and worry at the same time. He understood that the maknae longed for a family, no matter how hard he tried not to show it, and you saving everyone sparked hope in him that he probably didn’t even know he had. It filled Seonghwa with good feelings, knowing that everyone would experience that, but then anxiety, that another shoe may drop at some point and break the reality they thought they had found. However, for now, Seonghwa chose to trust you and enjoy their time of comfort. As the hybrids left to clean up, San walking considerably better than the night before, Wooyoung immediately walked to join you in the kitchen.

As you mix the batter for the waffles and heat up the iron, you heard quiet footsteps behind you. Turning around, you spot Wooyoung shuffling nervously as he watches you cook.

“Do you know how to cook?” You ask Wooyoung, earning a nod from him. “Do you like to cook?” He nods vigorously at that, while looking at everything you have going on. “Would you like to help?”

“Yes, please,” he says, surging forward washing his hands before jumping in.

“Well, I’m making eggs, pancakes, waffles, and the bacon is already cooking, so grab something you want to do and jump in.”

Wooyoung immediately takes over, pushing you out of the way and cooking up a storm. You sit back and begin cutting fruit, watching him as he jumps from one thing to another like a pro, making you think he’d do great in a restaurant.

“Where did you learn to cook, if you don’t mind me asking?” You question the fox as he mixes the eggs.

“My first home, with San, they got me cooking lessons so they wouldn’t have to cook. I loved it, after everything I had been through, throughout the day, I could escape with my cooking, and the look on their faces when they ate what I made…it made me feel good,” he explains to you, “I was also able to steal food for Sannie to eat, that made me feel good too.”

“Well, you don’t always have to cook if you don’t want to, however, you will have free reign of the kitchen and the food to do with as you want.”

Wooyoung looks back at you with excitement in his eyes at the prospect of being able to do what he wants.

“You really mean that?” He asks.

“Of course, this is your home too now, I want you to be comfortable.”

While waiting for the others, you and Wooyoung continue talking and you learn that he has always wanted to ride a bike, but was never allowed too, and that meant that you had to buy him a bicycle. He likes shoes and is interested in redesigning them, so you plan on giving him a little studio, and he always wanted to dance, falling in love with the movements he’d see on TV when he could catch glimpses of it. Turns out all the hybrids like to dance, which makes you wonder if you can find a dance teacher that will teach hybrids.

By the time Wooyoung finishes cooking, and you plate the food for everyone and set the table, all the other hybrids arrive in the dining room, sitting down when you gesture for them to. They all immediately dig in, some moaning at the taste and you sit with them, taking a little bit of everything for your lunch and loving how it tasted.

“Um,” Seonghwa says, interrupting the quiet while eating, “can…c-can we go shopping today?”

“Sure,” you reply, popping another blueberry in your mouth. “Once you finish eating and Wooyoung has a chance to shower we will head out. We’ll be buying clothes, phones, computers, and things for you all to try for hobbies, so expect to be out for a long time.”

Your hybrids talk excitedly amongst each other while you look through emails in your phone, and write down lists of things they mention that they may want to try. Wooyoung scarfed his food down so fast you thought he’d choke, before running upstairs and taking what you think was the fastest shower ever. While he was upstairs getting ready, you noticed Yeosang messing with his long hair that kept falling into his eyes.

“Yeosang,” you asked, approaching him slowly so you didn’t startle him, “do you want a haircut so your hair isn’t in your eyes?”

“N-no, I-I like my hair long,” he replied slightly stuttering and blushing.

“Would you like me to put it up in a ponytail for you?”

“Y-yes, that’d be nice.”

You have him sit on a chair and dig out a brush and ponytail holder before standing behind him and brushing his hair back, earning a content sigh from the man, before you finish putting his hair up. You’re stunned once you look at his face with his hair pulled back, he’s gorgeous. You thought this when you first looked at him, but you’re really realizing it now, and his birthmark makes him stand out even more.

“All done,” you pat his shoulders and let him stand, he nervously thanks you and goes to join the other hybrids waiting for Wooyoung.

You can hear laughing and excited talking followed by a whiney whimper and pop your head in the living room, hearing the other hybrids teasing Yeosang for how pretty he looks. Before anyone can say anything else, Wooyoung comes bounding down the stairs excitedly ushering everyone to the car.

Once you arrive at the shopping center, you begin walking around the stores, letting your hybrids decide where they want to go first, and Seonghwa immediately ran towards a lego store. Everyone followed him in, but only San seemed mildly interested in only the things Seonghwa was picking out. You let him choose six sets, promising more if he actually enjoyed building them, then paying the store extra to have the sets delivered to your house later that day. The next store was a sporting goods store, Yeosang was drawn to multiple skateboards, and some of the boys looked excitedly at baseball equipment and soccer gear, which you let everyone choose what they want, then had things shipped. Wooyoung immediately went to the bikes, and you asked an associate to help him choose one for a beginner. While Yeosang picked out his skateboard, you purchased mini ramps to set up, fully planning to build a mini skate park in the yard if he enjoyed riding it.

After the sports store, you stopped by the electronics store to grab everyone phones and laptops. You let them choose what they wanted and then when you found out that a few of them were interested in gaming, you bought each a specialty gaming computer and set up, as well as gaming consoles to spoil them, even going so far as to buy them their own monster flat screen tvs for their rooms. Once you finished with the skin care and make up stores, which each hybrid seemed to be especially interested in skin care, you went to lunch, happy to eat after hours of shopping. Each hybrid had gotten a hobby to try and you made the executive decision that after lunch would be shoes and clothes, then you’d go home for the day, absolutely exhausted and ready to hibernate. You learned Hongjoong liked the idea of reforming clothes, so you let him buy some things, Jongho like soccer, pool, and racing games, Yunho liked video games, San like plushies and working out, and Mingi enjoyed pool and video games, so you bought a pool table.

Shopping for clothes with 8 hybrids is an…experience. They all have different tastes and ran off like kids in a candy store, leaving you to chase after them. You wander around the store making sure to see where all the hybrids go. You noticed Seonghwa and Yeosang looking through the women’s section of clothes and slowly meander over to them, freezing and watching carefully as 2 women approach, ready to jump in if needed.

“Men’s clothes are on the other side of the store,” one woman says, trying to sound pleasant, but you can hear the sneering condescension in her voice and it pisses you off.

“These are women’s clothes, they are not meant to be touched by you unless you’re folding them.” The other woman laughs. “Althoug-“

“Is something wrong?” You interrupt, placing yourself between your two hybrids and the women.

“No ma’am, we are just helping these two with where things are in the store. May I help you?” The first woman replies, while the second woman keeps eyeing your two hybrids.

“These are my hybrids.” You say firmly looking directly at the second woman and watching her flinch under your gaze, before looking back to the first. “They already know where things are and are enjoying looking at these clothes. I think they are fine and you can be on your way.”

“Uh-I-But ma’am, these are women’s clothes.”

“Do you two like these clothes?” You ask, turning to look at your hybrids. They glance towards the two women. “Don’t look at them, look at me.” They look back to you. “Do you like these clothes?” They both slowly nod, Yeosang blushing under everyone's gaze as Seonghwa grips his hand. “Then feel free to look at whatever you want and buy what you want. There is no judgement. And if anyone tries to stop you, come get me and I will deal with it, ok?”

Both hybrids nod, a smile breaking out on their face, as the two women shift side to side on their feet. You reach out to the rack next to you and pull out two items, a semi-sheer top that you hold in front of Yeosang and a black top with a corseted waist that you hold in front of Seonghwa.

“I will say, I think you both will look fantastic in these.” Seonghwa takes the top excitedly, holding it in front of the mirror, while Yeosang examines the top you gave him. You turn back to the women, “thank you, but your help is no longer needed. You can go now.” You look back at the your two hybrids who begin shopping once again and ask “If you two are good, I’m going to check on the others, I brought you each a cart to fill up, you can grab another if you need, don’t forget to look at the rest of the store.”

They excitedly nod along with you, not paying attention as they look at clothes, Seonghwa more interested in the women’s clothes than Yeosang, but Yeosang still finding a few items.

Exhausted, you collapse on a bench near the changing rooms, and every few minutes one of your hybrids appears to ask if they can try something on, which you tell them yes and then they come to model clothes, all except Hongjoong who keeps what he picked to himself. After a while San collapses near you, a cart full of clothes as shoes and pure exhaustion written on his face, plus something more. You recognize the same thing in him that you have, his social battery is dead and he wants to go home. Gently, you reach over and pull his head towards you until he rests it on your shoulder, closing his eyes and relaxing. It took two more hours before everyone found clothes they liked. You gather them up and tell them to take their clothes to the register, Yunho grabbing Yeosang’s cart and walking away when you stop him.

“Where is Yeosang?” You ask.

“He said he was going to the bathroom,” Yunho answers, looking at you. You nod and tell him you will go check on him after asking him to have the cashiers begin ringing everything up, then walk away to the bathrooms.

You stop someone who just walked out of the bathroom and ask if anyone was in there and they said no, making you think that you probably missed him and he went to the registers, however, when you got there he still wasn’t in sight. Worriedly you walk to the dressing rooms, a bad feeling sinking in your stomach, and panic setting in as you hear whimpering, knowing exactly who it was coming from.

__________________________________________________

Yeosang

Everyone was done with shopping and Yeosang had to run to the bathroom. Asking Yunho to take his cart, he ran as fast as he could to the bathroom, then finished, and went on his way to meet all of you at the registers, when he saw a shirt that he really liked. He stood there thinking before grabbing it and running to the changing room, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he was delaying you a few more minutes.

He never thought this quick detour would have caused him to be in this position, but here he is, silently begging for someone to help him as he is pinned, shirtless, to the wall of the dressing room. He thought it may have been one of the others coming to get him and opened the door, only for a man to push his way in, and pin him to the wall, hand over Yeosang’s mouth to keep him quiet.

“I saw you earlier, looking at dresses with your friend,” the man says, head leaning against Yeosang’s, as he runs his hand up Yeosang’s side. “What do you think about stripping down and putting on some sexy lingerie for me? I could make it worth your while.” His hand keeps getting closer to Yeosang’s pelvis, causing Yeosang to let out a scared and panicked whimper.

The man opens his mouth once more to speak but is suddenly tackled into the mirror, releasing Yeosang, who drops to the ground. As soon as Yeosang sees you, he grabs his shirt and the one he liked and crawls behind you, getting dressed and trying to hide. You look at how scared Yeosang is and then look back to the man on the ground, moaning and groaning out obscenities at you, and all you can think of is what could have happened if you were late or ignored your instincts. You help Yeosang up, then turn to the man on the ground and stomp on his crotch as hard as you can, earning a yell before pulling Yeosang out of the store.

Yeosang is quiet as you approach the register, the other hybrids holding all their bags, as the cashier rings up the last item. You take Yeosangs shirt and hand it to her and then pull your card out to pay, while the other hybrids detect something is wrong and pull Yeosang to them, asking what happened and earning a head-shake from him, since he doesn’t want to talk about it. When you get the receipt, you take Yeosangs hand again, inform everyone you are leaving and walking them to the car.

After loading everything up, you turn and pull Yeosang into your arms, apologizing for not being there to protect him. This seemingly breaks him as he grips you tightly and begins to sob and you just hold him, letting him cry out for as long as he needs. It doesn’t take long for the others to make it a group hug, unaware of what happened, but knowing that Yeosang needed comfort. It took a while but after Yeosang stop crying, the group breaks up.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I should have been there to protect you but I wasn’t.”

“No,” Yeosang replies, shaking his head, “You saved me just in time…and got revenge, don’t apologize.” He hugs you again and pulls away and you have everyone load up in the car.

On the way home, Yeosang explains to everyone what happened and you get angry for him all over again. After the mood begins to somber, Yeosang begins joking around trying to get everyone happy again, especially since he is ok. It works to a degree, but you still think it may be wise to get all of them set up with a therapist, knowing they've been through a lot and probably need help with it.

As you pull into your driveway, you see a cop car sitting there and two police officers standing by your door. Internally groaning, you expect them to be here because of the man at the store.

“Nobody worry about this, I will take care of it,” you say, getting out of the car and helping your hybrids unload their things as the two officer’s approach. “What can I do for you, Danny?” You ask the one officer that you used to know form the job.

“You’re not in trouble,” Danny says, then gestures to your house, “But can we talk inside with your hybrids?”

Taglist: @p1ecetinyzen, @spiritedstarlightofdark, @spenceatiny18, @sparda1234, @the-secret-thief, @ateezswonderland, @archaic-achiever, @lveegsoi, @sunnysidesins, @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

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#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #san x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hybrid au #hybrid! ateez #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #hybrid ateez

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https-bobreynolds · 1 month ago

Text

misunderstanding

pairing: robert ‘bob’ reynolds x thunderbolts*! ex-avenger! reader

summary: bob gets jealous over a certain russian assassin.

warning: mentions of death and alcohol, reader curses several times, they kinda banter, jealous! bob gets kinda… sarcastic and grumpy, slow burn-ish

your relationship with bob has changed ever since you were both, along with others, forcefully made into a team, the thunderbolts*, the new avengers. he’s… cute, kind, and you live in the same tower, plus, it doesn’t help when his bedroom is right across yours too.

it was clear to the others that you two had a thing going on, how could they not? you both were always together whenever possible, it’s like you two are inseparable. the kitchen and the main common room being the two places where they would always find the two of you doing something cute, domestic even, sometimes.

but you’re both friends, really good ones... or at least that’s what he says every time someone asks him about it.

that is, until these past few days, he hasn’t seen you that much. it’s not that you were avoiding him, no. but you’re quite literally gone, away from the tower. bob didn’t mind it that much when he first noticed, he thought ‘o-oh she’s probably busy’

but then he starts to notice that yelena is usually gone at the same time you were out as well. have you both… been going out on dates? no that can’t be it… that just can’t be.

until early this evening, when he saw the two of you coming back from God knows where, hugging each other with closed eyes.

your eyes fluttered open, noticed his head poking out from his bedroom door, confused face and all. “oh, hey bob, you wanna come have a drink with us?”

bob looked up as he heard your voice, his face still etched with confusion. he had been hoping to see you, but not like this. he had hoped to see you alone, but instead, you were with yelena, both of you looking... intimate.

he shook his head, “n-nah... nah, i’m good. thanks, though” he said, trying to sound casual, failing miserably.

you couldn’t help but notice his cold tone, the distance in his voice. you knew bob like the back of your hand, so you could instantly tell something was off with him. “are you sure? we could use some company” you said, hoping to get him to change his mind.

“it’ll be fun, bob. alexei’s coming as well.” yelena says, leaning against your body.

bob could feel himself wavering, wanting to say yes, but something held him back. he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing you and yelena acting so close, as if you guys were a couple or something...

he let out a sigh, conflicted, “i… i don’t know… i’m not really in the mood…”

you furrowed your eyebrows together, something was definitely off with him, but you couldn’t put a finger on it, “come on, just one drink, that’s all. just… just come hang with us for awhile.”

he sighed again, looking back and forth between the two of you, seeing your begging face, he couldn’t say no, not to you. “fine… just one drink, alright?”

you nodded, a small smile on your face, “yeah, yeah that’s fine.” he took a deep breath, trying to push down the discomfort he was feeling, “yeah… yeah, i’m coming.”

now when you initially invited him, he thought you meant drink, as in drink in a bar- one of alexei’s many regulars probably. so when you and yelena took several beer cans from the fridge and bought it up to the tower’s rooftop, he was pleasantly surprised to say the least.

it was nothing special, just lightly decorated with a few fairy lights, courtesy of yelena, wanting the rooftop to look nice, brighter.

alexei was already there, waiting, with his own box of vodka, “thought you would never come!”

bob forced a smile, trying not to let on how annoyed, small-hearted, he felt. he felt left out, seeing the three of you already comfortable around each other. “y-yeah, i thought you guys wanted to go to a bar or something, honestly.”

“bars are expensive.” yelena piped up, smiling. “besides, it’s more personal this way, don’t you think?”

bob wanted to say that he’d actually prefer the bar this time, but he didn’t. instead, he nodded, “yeah… yeah, it is more personal, huh?”

you patted a spot beside you, inviting him to sit next to you, “yeah, of course it is. we get a better view of the stars this way too.”

bob did his best to hide the slight surprise he felt as you patted the spot next to you, and he slowly made his way over, sitting down next to you, making sure to keep a relatively comfortable distance.

you couldn’t help but notice his hesitance as he sat down next to you, choosing to sit a few inches away instead of making himself comfortable. you furrowed your eyebrows together, trying to figure out what was going on with him… he was usually so clingy, so this was really strange.

alexei, who was sitting opposite you and bob, spoke up, “you seem tense kid, got something on your mind?”

bob shook his head, trying to play it cool, “nah, i’m good… just... just tired, that’s all."

alexei raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not believing him, but decided to let it slide for now. “just drink vodka, that will help.” he said bluntly.

“yeah, i think i will, thanks…” bob said, reaching out and grabbing one of the many vodka bottles alexei had brought with him. he popped the top open, taking a big swig, letting the burn of the vodka course through him, hoping it would soothe his anxious thoughts.

“Jesus, calm down bob. we have the whole night to ourselves” you said, eyes slightly widened at the big chug he took, he never does… this.

bob’s eyes were slightly widened as well, but it was more from the pain of the alcohol than anything… he hadn’t drunken in a while, and it was definitely showing. he let out a breathy huff, shaking his head, “yeah… yeah, you’re right… maybe i should slow down.”

alexei, who had been silently watching the exchange, let out a bark of laughter, “you look like a sad puppy with those big eyes! drink more” he said, pushing the bottle closer to him.

you, alexei, and yelena talked to each other, with bob making sparse comments, but he was mainly just quietly listening, taking another swig of vodka every now and then.

when yelena and alexei stood up, (finally) wandering off, you glanced at the man beside you who’s been awfully quiet, “you okay?”

bob looked over at you, trying to hide the buzzing in his head, “yeah, yeah, i’m fine. just… just thinking.”

a look of concern flooded your face, but before you could say more, alexei spoke up from afar, “what is there to think about? just drink and relax, kid!”

you rolled your eyes at alexei’s comment, “ignore him.”

“mind telling me what’s going on in your head?” you asked with concern in your eyes, face slightly red due to the alcohol.

bob looked at you, taking in your redding face, as his heart ached. he knew you had a few drinks as well, but it hardly affected you as much since you had a higher alcohol tolerance than the others, you were tipsy at best. he shook his head, “it’s nothing, really… just tired, that’s all.” he said, trying to brush off your concern.

you didn’t buy it. you knew when he was lying, and right now, it was as clear as day. “you’re lying” you said bluntly, crossing your arms in front of you, looking at him with a serious expression, “now spill, what’s bothering you?”

bob’s heart nearly stopped as you called him out on his lie, he didn’t know how he thought he could fool you, but he tried anyway. he shook his head, “no seriously, it’s nothing. i’m fine, h-honestly.”

you didn’t miss a beat, still crossing your arms in front of you. “bullshit. you’re still lying, so try again. what’s going on in that brain of yours?” you said firmly.

bob felt his heart skip a beat again, his face heating up, he could never deny you. he knew there was no point in arguing with you, not when you were like this, so he decided to be truthful to you. “fine, you really want to know what’s going on in my head?” he asked quietly.

you just nodded, “yes, yes i do want to know what’s going on in your head.”

he let out a sigh, looking out at the skyline as he spoke, "you really want to know what's bothering me? you want to know why i'm in a bad mood right now?"

“yes, that’s what i just said, now spill already” you said with an irked tone, clearly getting impatient.

‘tipsy y/n is impatient’ bob takes a mental note to himself

he looked at you, his expression hardening, “fine, you wanna know that badly huh? okay. you wanna know why i’m in a bad mood right now, why i seem so tense? i’ll tell you why, alright? c-cause it’s pissing me off that you’ve been spending so much time with yelena lately.”

you felt a wave of surprise wash over you, not expecting him to say that. you felt taken aback, but you tried to keep your composure, “i… is that what’s bothering you? that’s what you’re all grumpy about? really?”

he sighed, a bitter tone in his voice, "is it so wrong of me to be pissed off that you've been spending so much time with her? being i-intimate with her, as if w-we weren’t already a thing?"

you went silent, you felt a pang of guilt, knowing that you had been hanging out with her quite a lot lately, you didn’t explain why, and you hadn’t spend any of your time with bob, except for a few chit chats here and there.

bob saw the expression on your face, the guilt written all over it, and he knew instantly that you felt bad for neglecting him. he felt a mix of bitterness and sadness, “what was i… to you, this whole time??”

“bob, it’s not like that at all.”

he rolled his eyes, his voice filled with sarcasm, "oh really? then what’s it like, huh? explain it to me then, why you’ve been spending all your time with her in secret, and none with me?"

you pursed your lips and took a deep sigh before answering, “…it’s natasha’s death anniversary”

before becoming a member of the thunderbolts*, you were an avenger, a part of the originals. natasha was one of your closest friend, one of the only female friends you had since the beginning, almost like an older sister to you, teaching you things, helping you train physically and mentally.

the moment she died, you felt like the world stopped. you felt so useless, not being able to do anything about it. it was one of the worst days in your life.

bob was taken aback by your answer, his expression softened instantly as he realized the real reason behind your absence. he was so wrapped up in his own jealousy that he hadn't considered the anniversary of natasha's death until now. he felt a pang of guilt for pushing you and acting like a brat.

“nat might’ve been my closest friend, but to yelena and alexei, she was their family,” she started, looking at the duo who’s far too drunk to notice your conversation.

“i thought that it would be nice if we did something for her, you know..? we went to her grave, we cleaned it up, decorated it a bit, left a portion of shawarma there- in case she misses it, a reminder of old times.” you smiled, remembering the day all seven of you had shawarma after saving new york for the first time.

“we did a bit of charity work too, did it under her name… so people could know how good of person she was… so people could remember her.” you continued, whispering softly, smiling at the sky.

bob listened to you speak silently, his heart growing heavy with remorse. he felt foolish for being so selfish, for making it all about him instead of realizing the pain you were going through. you were dealing with the loss of a dear friend, and he was acting like a child who didn't get enough attention.

“…i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you about any of this, and i’m sorry for ignoring you- i promise, i didn’t do that on purpose… i would never do that to you bob. i was just so caught up-“

he shook his head, feeling even more guilty for his earlier behavior, "no… no, i’m sorry. i was out of line. i shouldn’t have acted the way i did just because i was j-jealous of you spending time with someone else. i should’ve realized what a big day it was for you… i’m so sorry."

he leaned forward, closer to you, his expression filled with regret, "i feel like such an ass… you’re grieving and i was just moping around, throwing a tantrum like a c-child."

“it’s alright… you didn’t know” you said, with a reassuring smile.

you turned to the other two and said, “tonight was alexei’s idea, his way of coping with nat has always been just to drink it all out. yelena and i just wanted to accompany him, make it a fun night, instead of you know- a depressing one.”

bob nodded, feeling a wave of understanding wash over him. he felt stupid for the way he reacted, for letting his jealousy get the best of him, instead of being there for you during a difficult time.

he was about to say something, to apologize to you again, but alexei suddenly spoke up, “you know what we should do?”

you turned your attention to alexei, wondering what he had in mind. "what is it?"

“we should do a toast.” alexei said, short and simple, but you caught on to his intentions and nodded, so did the others. “here’s to natasha”

they raised their glasses, bob included, "to natasha."

bonus:

“so, bob, when are you going to ask y/n out?”

“h-huh??”

“she’s right. what are you waiting for, kid??”

“guys… you know that i’m right here, right?”

let’s just say that with the help of drunk yelena and alexei, the two of you finally became official, under the starry night.

author’s note: this is my way of coping with nat’s death, i’m still not over it and any other deaths in the mcu🥲🥲

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob thunderbolts #fluff #lewis pullman x reader #thunderbolts #fanfic #lewis pullman #x reader #avengers reader insert

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wosospacegirl · 5 months ago

Text

Better kisser - Head Coach Leah x Arsenal! r

Summary: Leah questions why the reader looks sad during training

Warnings: Just Leah being emotionally unavailable and kisses?!! :P

Word count: 2.3k

Masterlist here

Y/n had already come to terms with Leah’s personality.

Leah Williamson was distant, proud, confident and even patronizing. Although she was also caring, protective and affectionate when she wanted to. And that was the problem—when she wanted to.

Some would say Y/n was the typical soft girl, on and off the pitch. The young Arsenal player would try to avoid conflicts as much as she possibly could. She was easygoing and just chilled, the opposite of her Head Coach, which also happened to be Leah Williamson.

The two women had a tumultuous relationship, if anyone would call that a relationship. It had been 4 months since Y/n had signed with Arsenal as a new defender, and since then all Leah and Y/n did was argue and make up through quick snogging sessions in either Leah’s office or the locker room while the other team members were away.

Y/n had never experienced such a thrill before. She never had a forbidden relationship in her life before. The rush of excitement whenever Leah pushed her against the wall to nibble at her neck while the others weren’t around the same as entering a match during the most important game of the season. It felt good. The tingle that would rush through her body made it all worth it.

But sometimes, late at night, Y/n wished she could have someone to hold to—well, she wished she could hold Leah—and not anyone else. Y/n enjoyed tenderness and physical touch. She craved it, especially on nights like this one.

Y/n understood Leah would never come around to being in a relationship with her. The first time they kissed months ago, Leah told her she didn’t do relationships or anything that required emotional attachment. And that was why Y/n had to be happy that Leah even put up with her after and agreed to do a friends-with-benefits situation, even though they weren’t friends, and Leah was to a certain extent her boss.

Y/n rolled around in bed until sleep found her.

The next day at training, everybody could see there was something wrong with Y/n. Habitually, the young girl gave her all during the resistance and balance drills on the pitch. Her performance wasn’t being questioned, although the other players noticed that Y/n wasn’t her usual self. During the day, she kept to herself, not making any of her lighthearted jokes, not even with Alessia and Kyra, one of her closest friends.

Leah watched from afar, arms crossed, as Y/n did defensive drills with McCabe. The Irish woman was trying to get Y/n to smile more, trying to understand why she looked sad, but Y/n just brushed her off, saying she had woken up from the wrong side of the bed.

“Hey, Alessia, come here,” Leah called, moving her tactics board hurriedly.

Alessia came running, noticing the rushed tone in the Coach’s voice. “Hi, what’s wrong?”

“What happened to Y/n? She looks off,” Leah asked, pointing at Y/n with her head.

Alessias followed Leah’s eyes. “I’m not sure, actually,” Alessia admitted. “I tried talking to her but all she said was she had a bad night of sleep, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Hmm,” Leah murmured, staring even more at Y/n.

The girl was training marking with one of the guys from the technical team. “She’s been like that for a few days now,” Alessia continued. “Last week I asked her if she wanted to go out with me and Kyra and she said she wasn’t in the mood. Then yesterday Kyra asked if she wanted to do karaoke, and she also said no”

“What do you think the reason might be?” Leah asked, frowning. She didn’t like the feeling in her chest, the way she felt just because Y/n was sad.

Alessia took a towards to Leah. “Can you keep this between us?” Alessia whispered, a guilty look on her face.

Leah looked at the blonde with concern. Why was Alessia asking to keep a secret, had something really happened with Y/n? Had she been injured and Leah hadn’t noticed? It had been a few days since Leah and Y/n had had one of their casual and secret meetings in Leah’s office, but Leah didn’t remember the girl complaining about anything. Well, they didn’t talk much, though.

“Yeah, what happened?” Leah asked, holding on to her tactics board

“I think she’s going through some personal problems, me and Kyra think she’s gota girlfriend, and things aren’t going well between them,” Alessia replied, her cheeks turning red. “But don’t tell her I told you, please! She hasn’t told me anything, it’s just a hunch. I mean, she always complains about how single she is…”

“Does she always complain about that?” Leah tilted her head. “I’ve never heard her say anything about it.”

Alessia laughed. “Of course not, you are the coach now. When you were a player, did you talk to Renée about your feelings? Of course, not.”

Leah shrugged. “You got a point, Russo, thank you. Now back to training.”

Before Alessia could leave, Leah said in a low voice. “Besides, you are the worst keeper of secrets I have ever met.”

“Oh, shut up Williamson,” Alessia laughed, and returned to training.

Girlfriend, Leah thought.

Y/n couldn’t have a girlfriend. What they had was extremely casual, but Y/n wasn’t the type of girl to cheat on someone. Maybe Y/n didn’t have a girlfriend, but was she seeing other people?

Leah clenched her fist at the thought of another woman holding Y/n, kissing her, hearing the sweet noises she made. Y/n wasn’t hers, but for some reason she felt very territorial.

Territorial? Leah wasn’t sure that was the right word to describe how she felt about Y/n.

Perhaps protective was a better word.

I mean, who even was this girl Y/n was seeing anyway? What if she just wanted Y/n for attention or money? Y/n wasn't rich per se, very few athletes her age, but she did have a big platform on her TikTok and Instagram. Maybe this girl wanted Y/n for her fame. Leah wouldn’t let that happen.

Y/n didn't hear Leah come into the dressing room at first, but Leah’s earthy perfume made her presence known. Before Y/n could turn around Leah had her hands on the girl’s hips and was kissing the back of her neck.

“You haven’t spoken to me today,” Leah whispered against the Y/n’s skin, hating how soft her voice sounded. “What happened, huh?”

Y/n felt a shiver run through her body. She turned to meet Leah’s blue eyes. “I did talk to you during the team meeting.” Y/n replied, pushing Leah slightly so she wasn’t pressed against the wall.

“Telling me you accidentally deflated one of our balls doesn’t count.” Leah rolled her eyes, as she watched Y/n strip off her training kit and stand in nothing her sports bra and gym shorts.

Her eyes ran over Y/n’s body, wanting to touch every part of it.

“Well, guess we didn’t have much to talk about.” Y/n said, getting her bag from her locker and looking for a change of clothes.

Leah picked up on the cold tone immediately.

“We never have much to talk about, but we do it anyway,” Leah argued back as Y/n put on a pair of leggings and a clean t-shirt that said, “Live fast, eat trash”.

Y/n crossed her arms and tilted her head. “No, we don’t. We never talk Leah, we exchange a few words, you get mad about something I did in the pitch, you put on your whole dominant persona, then we have sex, and I go home,” Y/n touched Leah’s chest cynically. “That’s what we do.”

Leah pressed her lips together.

“You never had a problem with the way we did things. What happened now?” Leah asked, frustrated. This was not the way she wanted the conversation to go at all.

Y/n sighed before picking up her bag. “I’m really not in the mood for this, Leah.”

Leah held Y/n’s arms before she could leave the room, making sure the grip wasn’t too tight. In case Y/n really wanted to leave.

“Hey, don’t go, please,” Leah asked, Y/n’s skin warm against her palm. “I just noticed how you were off today, and I was hoping you could talk to me about it.”

Y/n didn’t meet Leah’s gaze, but she didn’t make a move to leave either.

“You’re right. We don’t really talk, and I know I can be grumpy with you.” The blonde continued, watching Y/n’s face, trying to figure out how the girl was feeling. “But I can talk, and I want to talk with you, if you ever need to.”

Leah was embarrassed to admit that this was the most vulnerable she had felt in months. I can talk!? Really, Leah? Who was she? A teenage boy interacting with a girl for the first time?

“I want to talk to you, not just kiss you,” Y/n admitted, looking down at the floor.

Leah was silent.

“Ok, we’ll talk then.” Leah agreed, fake confidence in her voice. “I love talking.”

“No, you don’t. Yesterday, you told Katie to shut up when she wished you good morning.”

“It was 6am.” Leah defended herself. “And I hadn’t had my coffee yet.”

“If you say so,” Y/n shrugged her shoulders.

The women remained silent. Leah released her grip on Y/n’s arm.

“I can start the talking thing,” Leah said, an adorable blush on her cheeks. It was as if she wasn’t used to doing things like this.

“Okay, then you talk while we walk to my car,” Y/n said, leaving no room for Leah to protest.

Leah took the bag from Y/n’s hand and slung it over her shoulder as they walked through the lonely corridors of Arsenal. “Hm—what’s your favorite colour?” Leah asked.

“Blue.”

“You can’t say blue, you’re an Arsenal player,” Leah argued, almost offended.

“Red then,” Y/n said, being her easy-going self.

“Cats or dogs?”

“Cats,” Y/n replied. “And let me guess, you like dogs,” the young girl raised an eyebrow.

“Correct.” Leah smiled.

When they got to Y/n’s car, Leah handed Y/n’s bag back. “That was a lot of talking! I’m proud of you,” Y/n said condescending, playfully patted Leah on the cheek.

Leah held Y/n’s hand. “Don’t get cheeky with me,” Leah warned mischievously.

Before Leah realized, Y/n’s lips were on her mouth, her tongue rolling gently into her mouth softly. “You’re a better kisser than a talker,” Y/n whispered. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Leah looked around to make sure no one was out there in the car park during the cold winter night. When Leah made sure they were alone, she pressed Y/n to the car door. “I wasn’t raised by animals; I can be social if I want to.”

“Well, I hope you want to be this sociable with me more often, then.” Y/n ended the kiss with a peck on Leah’s lips.

“I’ll try,” Leah said smugly. “Hey, there’s actually one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh really?” Y/n asked cheekily. “What is it?”

Courage, Leah. You can do it. It’s just another talk.

“Russo told me you were seeing someone,” Leah admitted, trying to sound cool. “I just wanted to make sure we—” she pointed at the two of them. “—Are alright, I mean I don’t mind sharing.” Big, big lie, Leah. “But if you’re with someone just let me know and we can end this, amicably, and all.”

Y/n was silent for a minute, then for two minutes, and then she burst out laughing.

“Russo told you what?”

“Okay, she didn’t tell me, I asked her, but only because you seemed off today.” Leah rolled her eyes. She didn’t like people laughing at her. “But it’s whatever, forget I ever said anything.”

Y/n grabbed Leah’s arm before the blonde could turn around. “No, come on, don’t get mad now.” The young player said. “I just laughed because I don’t know why Alessia thought I was seeing someone, I barely have time for my cat.”

“She also said you complained about being single,” Leah admitted, throwing out the whole keep it between us promise she had made to Alessia.

“Oh— “Y/n blushed, playing with her hands. “I mean, I guess we all want some kind of affection sometimes, don’t we?”

The women started at each other.

“Maybe,” Leah finally replied.

Y/n sighed. “It was nice talking to you, Leah, see you tomorrow,” Y/n leaned into Leah, and have her a kiss on the cheek before getting inside her car and driving away, leaving Leah in the parking lot with a weird feeling inside of her.

Leah was left wondering: she wanted to do more than just have sex with Y/n, but she wasn't so sure that she could do relationships, or that she could give Y/n the affection that she wanted. Y/n was the kind of girl who expected Valentine's Day gifts and spontaneous trips. She would expect them to adopt a dog - or, well, a cat.

Leah wasn't sure she could. Leah wasn't stupid, she noticed how much Y/n liked her, and she liked Y/n back, but the fear of ruining Y/n's personal and professional life if anyone knew they were together was stronger than whatever Leah felt for the girl.

“I hate feelings,” Leah murmured to herself as she walked back to the Arsenal building, and into her office.

“I’m going get a lot of work done and forget about this whole situation,” Leah lied to herself. “Everything will be fine; she will stop liking me any day and everything will go back to normal.”

The woman stayed in the office until the next morning, taking small naps in between tactics plans.

Leah awoke to a knock on her door. A very cheerful McCabe walked in.

“Hey mate, good morning,” McCabe said smiling.

“Oh my God, can’t you shut up for a second, Kaite?” Leah snapped, getting up from her chair and leaving the Irish alone in the room.

“What the fuck did I do now?” The brunette complained. “Fine, I’ll stop being polite to you.”

Please make sure to give feedback so I know what you guys think about this fic!

#woso #woso fanfic #woso appreciation #leah williamson #woso x reader #arsenal women #arsenal fanfic #wlw fanfic

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spencerfuckngreid · 4 months ago

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Burning Up || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader · Category: Angst, Smut · Warning: Soft sex, happy ending. · Words: 3082 · Summary : A tension exists between you and Spencer. He actively resists and maintains distance every time you come near. He has an internal conflict between what is right and what is wrong. · Inspiration: Song: "Burning Up" Madonna

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind! · Masterlist · TikTok · C.ai ·

The room was charged with a subtle electricity that always seemed to build between you two. The rest of the team had already left to rest or go over leads in other areas, leaving you alone with Spencer.

You had tried to focus on the files in front of you—the photographs, the scattered notes on the table—but your eyes kept drifting toward him. Seated across from you, hunched over his notebook, Spencer scribbled something with the intensity of someone trying to find a logical way through chaos.

It was that intensity that drew you in—it always had. Spencer had an aura that made him seem untouchable, as if his mind operated on a level no one else could reach. And yet, the more time you spent near him, the clearer it became that there was something beneath the surface. Something vulnerable. Something passionate. Something he worked hard to bury under layers of professionalism.

"Don't put me off, 'cause I'm on fire."

The lyric echoed in your mind, and you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

"Y/N, are you listening?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing you'd been staring in his direction—though not directly at him. "Yeah, yeah… of course. What were you saying?"

Spencer frowned slightly, adjusting his glasses with a quick motion before pointing at the map spread out on the table. "I said that the profile suggests the suspect will likely return to where it all started. It’s a pattern that—"

"Uh-huh, I get that," you interrupted gently, leaning forward to get a better look at the map. "But what if that’s exactly what he wants us to think? What if he's breaking the pattern on purpose? I know it’s not typical… not a common choice… but at this point, we should at least consider it."

Spencer studied you, his brown eyes scanning you with curiosity. He always appreciated a fresh perspective, but this time, his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary before shifting back to the map.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric hit you harder this time, making you press your lips together. There was something about the way he always pulled back whenever you got too close that only made you want to push his limits even more.

"It’s a possibility..." he finally said, breaking the silence. "But the pattern is the only solid lead we have right now."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you looked at him, frustrated. "Always so logical, Doctor."

"It’s my job," he replied without looking up, his attention still on the papers.

"And it’s also what keeps you safe, isn’t it?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"You hide behind logic, Spencer," you said, leaning forward. "It’s your shield. But some things aren’t logical—you can’t just avoid them because they scare you."

He blinked, caught off guard by your bluntness, but before he could respond, you pushed yourself up from your chair. "I’m getting coffee. Do you want anything?"

He shook his head but didn’t say anything else. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his eyes on your back, and it only made you want to turn around and challenge him again.

"I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you thought, clenching your fists as you made your way to the coffee machine.

The words you had thrown at Spencer still echoed in your mind as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing. You had crossed a line, and while you didn’t regret it, you knew he wouldn’t just let it slide.

Back in the conference room, Spencer was exactly where you had left him—except his posture had changed. His back was stiff against the chair, and his pen, usually in constant motion, lay motionless on his notebook. When you closed the door behind you, he looked up, his expression more guarded than usual.

"What was that all about?" His tone was colder than you expected.

"What was what?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you walked closer.

"That whole thing about me hiding behind logic." Spencer stood up to face you, adjusting his glasses. "I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but if this has anything to do with—"

"—you and me," you interrupted, setting your coffee down on the table with more force than necessary. "That’s exactly what it has to do with."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue. But instead, he looked away, his gaze dropping back to the papers. "There is no 'you and me,' Y/N. This is work, and the only thing that matters is solving this case."

The way he said it—so sharp, so final—should have made you back off. But instead, it only fueled something inside you, a need to break through that carefully crafted façade of perfection.

"Are you really going to keep pretending you don’t feel anything, Reid?" you asked, stepping closer. "That you don’t notice how the air changes when we’re in the same room?"

"What I notice," he started, pushing himself up from his chair, "is that you’re crossing lines you shouldn’t be crossing."

"That you want to want me, but you can't let go," you thought as you watched him. You could see the way his self-control tightened, as if every word was a struggle to hold his ground.

"Maybe those lines shouldn’t be there," you said softly, taking another step forward. You were close enough now to catch the light, clean scent of his cologne.

"Y/N, stop..." His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.

"I can’t stop." You moved even closer, forcing him to step back until his back met the wall. "And neither can you, so stop trying."

He lifted his hands slightly, as if to create some invisible barrier between you, but his eyes betrayed the war raging inside him. "This isn’t right," he said, his voice laced with an intensity that almost made you hesitate. "We can’t do this. I can’t do this."

But he didn’t move away. His hands remained raised—but he didn’t touch you, didn’t push you back. His eyes stayed locked on yours, and the tension in his body was almost tangible.

"Then say it," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want—"

His lips parted, like he was about to say the words. But nothing came out. Instead, his breathing quickened, and his hands slowly dropped to his sides.

"That’s what I thought," you said, your tone victorious but laced with quiet softness.

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering every ounce of willpower. "This is a mistake," he murmured finally.

"Maybe." You leaned in just enough so that your face was inches from his. "But some mistakes are worth making."

Spencer took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, but it wasn’t working. "This can’t happen," he said more firmly, stepping to the side to put space between you. "Not just because it would be inappropriate, but because… because it wouldn’t work."

You followed him, moving back into his path, challenging every barrier he tried to put up. "It wouldn’t work? Or you don’t want it to work because it would complicate your perfect, structured life?"

"It’s not that!" The words came out too fast, too forceful. He immediately glanced toward the door, as if worried someone else might have heard. Then, in a lower voice, he added, "This isn’t about avoiding complications. It’s about doing the right thing."

"And what if the right thing doesn’t feel right?" you challenged, tilting your head.

"Then we ignore it," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest as if that could shield him from the weight of your words.

"Do you wanna see me down on my knees?"

The lyric echoed in your mind, giving you the push to take this one step further.

"You’re not as good at lying to yourself as you think, Spencer," you said, stepping closer again. "Not with me."

"Y/N," he murmured, and this time, there was something almost pleading in his tone. "Please, don’t make this harder."

"Harder for who? You?" You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because for me, this is simple. I know what I want. And what I want is standing right in front of me."

The color in his cheeks deepened, but his posture remained rigid. "It's not that simple," he said, though his voice no longer carried the same conviction.

"Why not? Why are you afraid of feeling something you can’t control? Why won’t you admit that you’re already feeling it?"

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, Spencer stepped back, putting the smallest but most significant distance between you.

"I can’t do this," he said, his voice low, as if each word drained his energy. "Not with you. Not now. I’m sorry."

Disappointment tangled with frustration, but you knew he wasn’t running because he felt nothing. He was running because he felt too much.

"Fine. Have it your way," you finally said, stepping back. "I won’t push you anymore. I just... I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. If you’re ever ready… tell me. But I won’t wait forever."

Spencer looked at you, his eyes reflecting the war within him, the battle he couldn’t put into words. He didn’t stop you as you gathered your things and walked out of the room.

Out in the hallway, you leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. "I'm burning up, burning up for your love," you murmured to yourself, letting the song finish the sentence you couldn’t say out loud.

—

The hotel room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the small bedside lamp. You had tried to distract yourself with case reports, but the words on the screen blurred into meaninglessness. Every time you closed your eyes, the confrontation replayed in your mind: the conflict in Spencer’s gaze, the way he said no… but also how he hadn’t been able to step away until the very last second.

"Unlike the others, I'd do anything."

The lyrics echoed in your head like a taunt, mocking your attempts to stay calm.

You got up from the bed, unable to stay still. There was something suffocating in the air, a mixture of regret and longing that kept you moving, as if pacing back and forth could silence the thoughts running wild in your head.

Across the hall, Spencer sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His hair was a mess, his glasses sitting on the table beside the phone. He hadn’t even tried to sleep—how could he, after what had happened?

He had gone over every word, every look, searching for a logical angle, a way to make sense of what had transpired. But there was no logic that could save him from what he felt: guilt, yes, but also an unrelenting desire burning beneath his skin.

"This can’t happen," he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud could make it true. But even as he spoke, his eyes drifted toward the door, as if something—someone—on the other side was pulling him in.

At some point during the night, your paths crossed again. Maybe it was chance, or maybe it was inevitable. When you opened your door to step out for some air, you found him in the hallway, his face pale, his eyes dark.

"Spencer," you whispered.

"I needed… to walk," he said, though it was obvious he was looking for something more than that.

Silence stretched between you, thick with everything neither of you dared to say.

Until finally, he shook his head. "I shouldn’t be here."

"But you are." You took a step closer.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, both of you stood frozen, caught in a place with no turning back.

"It’s too much," he admitted in a breath, his voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know how to handle it."

"You don’t have to handle it," you murmured, stepping close enough that he could feel your warmth. "Just… go with it."

Spencer didn’t move, as if fighting every instinct in his body. But when he finally looked up at you, there were no more defenses in his eyes—only raw, consuming desire.

"I can't keep pretending," he murmured, stepping toward you.

"Then don’t," you whispered.

The space between you disappeared in an instant. His mouth found yours with a desperation that stole your breath, his hands gripping your face as if afraid you’d vanish. Spencer had always been methodical, in control—but in that moment, there was none of that. He was pure fire, everything he had suppressed finally unleashed.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer as you stumbled backward into the room. The door slammed shut behind you, but you barely noticed. All that mattered was the weight of his body pressing against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, the low, ragged sounds escaping his throat.

"This is insane," he muttered against your skin, though his lips kept moving along your neck.

"I think you need a little insanity," you teased, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back with a frantic kind of urgency.

For Spencer, this moment felt like crossing a line he had never thought he would. But in the end, he realized he had been standing on the edge of that line since the moment he met you.

The air was thick, heavy with heat. His breath mingled with yours, uneven, as his lips traced your neck, alternating between kisses and gentle bites that made your head spin.

"This isn’t—" he started, his voice a whisper against your skin. But there was something desperate in the way he touched you, as if he needed to feel you, to confirm that this wasn’t just a dream.

There was no time for more words. Spencer’s logic, his self-control, his professionalism—everything unraveled. With a near-violent impulse, you pushed him toward the bed. Clothes—an obstacle neither of you could ignore—began to fall away between kisses and gasps. Every movement was a battle, a push and pull between his deeply ingrained restraint and the undeniable force of desire. But now, in this space, nothing was holding him back.

Your body burned under his touch, and though he tried to keep his distance, his hands betrayed him, exploring every inch of you, his palm gliding over your torso, down to your waist, as if he was finally allowing himself to have you. This wasn’t the distant, controlled Spencer you had known. This was a man on the edge—of need, of madness—consumed by what he felt for you.

"Y/N," he whispered between kisses, his voice raw, as if clinging to your name was the only thing grounding him. "This... I can't..."

You didn’t let him finish. You silenced him with a kiss, deep and hungry, and he laughed into your mouth. There was no case to solve, no walls left to break down. Just the need to be together, no more excuses.

With a determined move, you pushed him back, taking control, feeling the way he yielded under your touch. Spencer was completely in your hands, and for the first time, he didn’t seem to want to fight it. His grip on your back tightened, pulling you against him as if he needed the physical connection, the proof that this was real.

"I don’t know if I can handle what I feel," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. But when his hands found your face and he kissed you with a raw, burning intensity, it no longer mattered what he thought.

You moved with him, and the world blurred away. The softness of the bed beneath you, the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips trailed lower, leaving a path of fire across your skin... The rhythm between you was frantic, yet tender, as if both of you were trying to prove that this wasn’t a mistake, not like Spencer had tried to convince himself before.

Spencer paused for a moment, breathless, exhausted, looking down at you. "Y/N..." Everything was clear in that instant.

"Yes," you whispered, cupping his face, pulling him closer. And in that kiss, nothing else mattered. No words were needed. Everything between you finally made sense.

When the morning light filtered into the room, the silence between you had shifted. Spencer lay beside you, staring at the ceiling as if searching for patterns, lost in thought. Reality had changed—you had changed—and you both knew it. His mind was running a thousand miles per hour.

"I can’t... I can’t promise this won’t get complicated," Spencer murmured, his voice quiet but filled with the resistance that defined him.

"You don’t have to promise anything," you said, turning to face him, resting a hand on his chest, gentle. "What, you expect this to be easy? That sounds boring." You teased.

He gave a subtle, lopsided smile, and somehow it put him at ease, helping him come to terms with the situation.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of you knew what would come next, but for now, all you could do was accept it. The tension that had defined your relationship until now had transformed into something else entirely.

"You know you got me burning up, baby."

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teenidlegirl · 6 months ago

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꣖　 BEAUTY OF THIS MESS 　꣓　 ᤢ♥︎　 CHAPTER　.　15 　!

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

ᤢ　.　summary　♥︎　੭　while enduring this pregnancy journey, you unexpectedly meet miguel’s mother and she offers support. miguel finally returns and he begs but you won’t give in. on a final note, you finally make a decision about the baby.

ᤢ　.　content　♥︎　੭　angst, pregnancy, emotional distress, arguments, swearing, heartbreak, weird chapter (beginning is reader’s pov, later half is where chapter 14 left off)

꣖　　previous　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　masterlist　　⋅ ꪆৎ ⋅　　next　　꣓

THREE WEEKS AGO.

since the ultrasound and that encounter with the little boy and his mother at the grocery store, you’ve been conflicted about this pregnancy. from the beginning, you were uncertain about keeping the baby because there was no room in your life for one. it was never a consideration to have children. but these recents events have slightly altered your view.

the ultrasound picture hangs on your fridge, a reminder of the reality you’re in now. a tiny blob currently growing in your womb. at first, it was stored away in your drawer of your nightstand to avoid seeing it but eventually your mind changed and decide to hang it up. you’re still somewhat fascinated by it, that tiny blob that will eventually be a miniature version of you, if you decide to keep it.

but that decision continues to linger in your mind as each day passes by. whenever you go out and see a mother with her child, you always envision your own scenarios with your own potential future child. those envisions always made your heart swell. the other day while taking luna out for a walk, you saw a woman with her daughter, who appeared to be a toddler, having their own little mother-daughter picnic. both wearing matching dresses with floral prints. it was such a heartwarming scene, the mother showing off her affection for her daughter with hugs and kisses over her head. just like any other scenery, you envision yourself with your child, in this case a daughter. having your own little picnic and wearing matching dresses, cute mother-daughter bonding.

you didn’t realize tears slowly swelling up in your eyes until your sight became a bit glossy. the conflicting emotions were too intense that you had to walk away, rushing back to your apartment. that was when you decided to hang up the ultrasound pic.

the conflict grew more complicated and it was annoying the hell out of you. but with these heartwarming scenarios, you’ve been gradually leaning towards the possibility of keeping and having the baby. imagined a miniature version of you wandering around the apartment, giggles and babbles bouncing off the four walls, luna being chased by the baby. these types of scenarios were making the decision more complex than it already is. but the fear and uncertainty still lingers as well.

lately, your friends have been visiting you to check how you’re doing and wondering if you need anything. lyla would blurt out a million questions about the pregnancy and what it’s like growing another human inside you, she’s a little nerd on the inside. mj would be making and prepping a nice cup of tea or whatever drink you want. anne would grab blankets to provide you comfort you need especially during these chilly nights. all of you huddled together as if it’s a sleepover during your teen years.

the boys would visit as well. peter would tag along with mj after getting off from work like the first time. eddie would show up at your door with whatever food you were craving with a stupid smile on his face, both of you munching on the food while shit-talking about jameson and any other asshole from work. one visit, anne tagged along with him which surprised you and made you raise a brow. their excuse was for accidentally arriving at the same time. you couldn’t help but smirk, they definitely showed up together. harry made a stop by and offered comfort. like everyone else, he offered support but it was different since the man was loaded as hell. in the end, you are forever grateful to supportive and caring friends.

but you were still missing the support and care from one specific person. miguel still hasn’t responded and you give up at this point. the message was clear he did not want to be involved and never return so why bother anymore. no matter how much you wish for him to answer back and show up at your door, you had to get over it. waiting on him was killing you. you had to stop hanging onto that thread of hope. there wasn’t any left, it vanished completely.

you had to let him go.

no matter how much you didn’t want to and now matter how much it made your heart ached.

but the pain and suffering he inflicted on you forever has a profound impact. there were still moments, mostly at night, you would shed tears because of his negligence and betrayal. still in disbelief that the very man who vowed his love to you, made you feel loved and valued like no other, abandoned you when you needed him the most. left you with another broken heart expect this one hurt more than ever because you believed he truly loved you like you did him.

as days passed, that love you held for miguel in your heart gradually transformed into hatred. your heart no longer beats with warm and adoration but instead resentment and anger. once red now black and cold, as if it has rotten like an apple. perhaps like the poison apple from snow white.

joel broke your heart, miguel rotten it.

perhaps love was a complete joke.

you truly believed miguel was different than joel. he would restore your broken heart and replace that pain with new profound love. however, he did the same as well but rotten your heart with false hope instead. the second man to damage your heart.

only pain and anger beats for them both.

the text messages and calls stopped. there were utterly useless and it was clear miguel wouldn’t come back. the conclusion was that he wouldn’t be in the picture and you didn’t care anymore. his silence was enough for you that you no longer needed him. it may be a difficult journey but you can do it without that asshole. you won’t let miguel win.

currently, you’re returning from the local bookstore that is around the block. luckily pets were allowed so you were able to take luna with you. a sci-fi horror book was your new purchase and to be added to your book collection. it also severed as a reminder to clean out your bookshelf of books you no longer need or like anymore, it’s a bit cramped as well.

heading to your apartment, you notice a woman standing in the middle of the hallway, more precisely in front of your apartment. your brows furrowed slightly in confusion as you slowly approach her. the woman seems to hear you as she turns around. curly brunette with little streaks of silver.

she offers a kind smile. “hello, are you…” your eyes widen a little when she mentions your name.

“yes…” you say skeptically. “and you are…?”

“i’m conchata o’hara, miguel’s mother.”

you stand there in shock. you finally met his mother. never would’ve thought of actually meeting her one day, mainly due to what miguel had told you about their estranged relationship.

but the real question is: why is she here?

now you’re even a bit more skeptical.

“forgive me for arriving unexpectedly, i know we’ve never properly met due to my and miguel’s situation so it may be a bit awkward.”

she seems to be… decent so far.

“the reason i came here today is because i know about the whole situation.”

well, it’s not like miguel is here and she could visit.

she takes one step closer, a sorrowful expression on her face. “first and foremost, i want to say i’m so sorry you’re battling this alone.”

oh… this was a little unexpected.

“you shouldn’t be and i’m so sorry. i wanted to come here to see you. i understand if you don’t wish to accept it since i’m miguel’s mother but believe me, i’m just as furious at him as much as you are, hija.”

so she aware of his son’s stupidity, good to know you both are on the same page. since she’s his mother, she most definitely pissed the hell off like you. a mother’s fury, especially a latina mother, is something everyone is afraid of.

“i… i appreciate that very much, señora.”

“please, call me conchata.” she offer a kind smile.

you lightly shake your head, smiling back. “i like to be polite, especially meeting for the first time.”

“you’re very kind, hija. really too kind.”

“would you like to come in? i can make café if you like?” you offer kindly.

“i would love that very much.”

you welcome conchata into your home. luna greets the woman with several barks before silently sniffing at her ankles with her tail wagging. as you heading to the kitchen to make coffee, conchata gently guides you to the living room instead.

“i can make it, hija. don’t worry about it.”

“but you’re my guest, it’s okay.” you kindly inject.

“you’ve got to much on your hands. please don’t worry, it’s the least i can do.”

sighing, you comply. you sit down on the couch while conchata makes the coffee. orange juice was your choice of beverage due to your pregnancy. after a few minutes, she returns with a mug in one hand and your glass of orange juice in the other. you thank her with a kind smile as she hands your glass of juice and she takes a seat on the other side of the couch.

“firstly, how are you doing, dear?”

you knew she’s referring to the pregnancy. “i’m alright. thankfully, i don’t have morning sickness anymore and i can actually function.”

the woman smiles softly, relieved to hear you’re doing better. “i’m very glad you’re feeling better. i remember it and i do not miss it. i couldn’t leave the bed for weeks, it was un dismadre.”

you softly chuckle, feeling a bit bad for her. “how awful, i’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

she waves it off with a hand. “the glories of pregnancy, such a beautiful thing.”

you can sense the sarcasm in her tone, making you chuckle because it’s true. everyone experiences pregnancy differently and most deal with morning sickness, at different levels yet still an awful experience. truly such a beautiful thing.

you notice her expression gradually transforms into a more remorseful one, sensing the shift of the atmosphere into deep seriousness.

“i just… can’t believe this…” her tone grows quiet, remorseful. “i know i said this before but i am incredibly sorry you’re dealing with this, hija.”

your expression matches her own, silently listening.

“i just can’t believe he would do this…” she truly sounds in disbelief, shocked at her son’s idiotic behavior. “when peter called me and told me everything, i wanted to find him and kill him.”

your eyes widen ever so slightly at her confession but ultimately understand. hearing about your own son disappearing after getting a girl pregnant would set your entire body on fire with pure fury.

“i raised him to be a good man and to be a responsible human being.” her tone turns serious for a moment. “i raised him to be better.”

conchata did, in fact, raised a good man. before everything collapsed, miguel was a kindhearted man. offered his services, fixed your bookshelf and car engine, offered his jacket when you were cold at coney island, always gave you compliments and sweet praises, made you feel happy and safe.

you just wondered why that all was thrown out the window the minute he left.

“what miguel did was irresponsible.” she states firmly, staring at you with such seriousness. “he left you alone to deal with this, it’s unacceptable. i want you to know that i’m beyond furious with him. that man is not my son with that idiotic behavior.”

wow, you like her more.

“if he ever decides to come back, don’t feel obligated to forgive him. i’m not here to persuade you to take him back, no absolutely not. it’s your decision whether to forgive him or not. what miguel did hurt you indefinitely and it’s not forgivable.”

you internally agree with conchata and appreciate her support wholeheartedly. she is right, he did hurt you indefinitely and it’s left a large scar on you.

she sighs deeply before continuing on. “i also understand your uncertainty about… the baby.”

suddenly, you feel your breathe caught in your throat. the grandmother of your potential future child sits in front of you asking about the said child. a sudden wave of anxiousness course through you.

conchata seems to notice your anxious state and gently takes your hand in hers. “whatever your decision you’ll make, i’ll support you completely. you choose what’s best for you. this concerns your well-being, you choose for yourself.”

her supportive words makes your heart melt. you truly appreciate it, especially from her.

“if you choose to keep it, i’ll 100% support you and the baby. whatever you need, i’ll be there.” she states with such sincerity. “if not, i’ll still be there to support you through the process. my house is open to you, and the baby if you choose to keep it. in any scenario, i am here to support and help you, hija.”

suddenly you feel tears prickling in your eyes. the pregnancy hormones only make you more emotional. her support truly means significantly to you and you can’t help but pull her into a tight embrace which conchata gladly accepts, like a mother would.

“thank you so much.” you sniffle.

“of course, hija.” she gently rubs your back.

after a moment, you release each other from the emotional embrace. conchata hands you tissues from the box sitting on the coffee table, quietly thanking her as you take them from her.

“your words and support mean so much to me… appreciate it so much, mrs, o’hara. i’m forever grateful, gracias.” you smile through tears.

she offers a smile. “of course, hija. i’m here for you, my doors are always open to you. anything you need, don’t ever hesitate to reach out, you’re not alone.”

that last phrase makes you tear up again.

‘you’re not alone.’

you know you have supper from friends. you still heavens told your family, nevertheless your parents and you’re still nervous to tell them. the day will eventually come when you’re ready. but now with conchata’s support, you truly don’t feel that alone anymore. miguel is still gone but at least his mother has sympathy and common sense.

after cleaning up tears and the dishes, you and conchata exchange goodbyes. giving you one final reminder to reach out for help. once she left and you close the door, you glance down at your tummy. you place a hand over it, as if silently communicating with the tiny life form growing inside. letting them know that they would have support. the thought makes your heart swell once again.

PRESENT DAY.

all the blood flowing through your veins went entirely cold. the beating of your heart suddenly stops. waves of fury corses through you like a tsunami. you can feel the anger radiating from your skin.

miguel is back.

the son of bitch that abandoned you finally came back, standing in front of you with a scared expression that pisses you off. after 3 weeks of abandonment, the bastard decides to finally show up. you scoff mentally at the thought, in pure disbelief at his sudden return.

part of you wants to cry and yell at him for the pain he caused. scream all the pain and suffering right in his fucking face. kick and punch the shit out of him. if you weren’t carrying a tiny being in your belly, you would beat the shit of miguel with no hesitation. back in your teen years, you use to put bitches back in their place if they messed with you. unfortunately, you can’t give miguel the same treatment.

“you son of a bitch…”

miguel gulps anxiously at your cold tone of hatred that you harbor for him, rightfully so. it wasn’t the saw gentle tone contained with love and gentleness. not in the sweet manner you used to talk to him. he feels trails of sweat down the back of his neck.

“bebé, i—”

“shut the fuck up.”

you cutting him off so abruptly makes miguel wince, he feels utterly pathetic and guilty. you notice it and you scoff mentally, he really was pathetic.

“you fucking asshole…”

miguel deserves every derogatory word from you. asshole, bastard, son of a bitch, all of it he deserves it. he calls himself all those terms too. he deserves every once of your anger towards him.

“you left me…” you whisper with such sadness and anger, feeling tears gradually swelling in your eyes.

you sound so heartbroken that it stabs miguel right in the fucking heart a million times. he can feel his own tears swelling his eyes of guilt.

“lo siento, bebé—”

“you LEFT me!” you snap at him, eyes wide in fury which silents him immediately. “you left me for 3 fucking weeks, miguel! you left me to deal with this shit by MYSELF! I CALLED YOU AND TEXTED YOU AND YOU NEVER ANSWERED!”

your voice of frustration echos throughout the entire parking garage. it wouldn’t be a surprise if people, either inside or outside, could hear.

miguel just stands there like the pathetic, guilty fuck he is. eyes swelled with tears, on the verge of breaking down. your voice of frustration and hurt ringing in his ears, stabbing his heart.

this is where his idiotic decisions led to, you screaming and crying at him.

“I WAS SO FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! I TRUSTED YOU! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

miguel panics at that. “i do love you!—”

“NO YOU DON’T BECAUSE YOU FUCKING LEFT ME!” you shout, allowing those tears to fall. “YOU LEFT ME WHEN I NEEDED YOU THE MOST!”

that was a big stab to his heart. it’s the truth, he did leave you when you needed him the most and miguel is a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner. you had to navigate this life-changing situation on your own without his support. you were dealing with this, stressed out and crying for unforgettable hours while his stupid ass was back at his stupid cabin.

he felt tears running down his cheeks.

“i needed you, miguel!” you sob, making it incredibly difficult for miguel to not rush over, cradle for your face and wipe your tears away.

the guilt was hitting him like a train. those tears of pain and sadness in those beautiful eyes kills him, especially knowing he is the cause of them.

“i needed you…” you sob uncontrollably, not caring how much of a mess you are right now. “i was so alone… abandoned…”

now he’s crying as well, the guilt hitting him harder.

“i waited… waited for you to come back…” another sob. “but you didn’t.” your tone went cold for a sec.

he should’ve gone back sooner so you wouldn’t have gone through so much suffering he caused. but he can’t change the past, the damage is done and miguel has no control over it.

“i went to the doctor’s appointment alone… sitting in the lobby alone in a room with other patients with their partners… supporting and comforting them… DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD THAT WAS?! SITTING THERE AND WATCHING THEM GETTING THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THEM NEEDED WHILE I WAS SITTING ALL ALONE?!”

miguel feels like the biggest asshole in the entire universe. he remembers your text that day after unlocking his phone weeks later and how he broke down into tears. now hearing it again from you makes him cry harder, the guilt consuming him.

“I FELT SO FUCKING MISERABLE!” you shout, sobbing uncontrollably once again. “I HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT BY MYSELF! I CRIED SO MANY TIMES BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID!”

it kills him to think about it, the amount of tears you shed because of him. miguel really hates himself.

you pause a moment to wipe some tears away. miguel still fought the urge to wipe them away himself because he knows he can’t.

“i trusted you… with everything… my heart…” your voice dies down, now more remorseful which makes miguel’s heart ache. “i really thought you were different… i thought you were the right man… a good, caring person… i thought you were the one…”

miguel stares at you with wide, tearful eyes. he wanted to be the right man, he still wants to be the right man. but his stupid actions changed that.

“but i guess not.”

now he starts to panic. no, no, no. he still wants to be the right man for you. miguel loves you and he doesn’t want to lose you… but he already did.

“i thought joel broke my heart and he did but you… you just rotten it to the fucking core.”

miguel’s own heart shatters at that. putting him and that asshole joel in the same sentence makes him seethe, remembering what joel did to you, but realizes he hurt you more.

“mi amor, please i’m so so so sorry. i should never have left you alone, i scared of—”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “scared of what?”

“losing you!” he cries.

“you lost me the moment you walked out that door.”

miguel’s eyes widen once again. panic causes him to step forward and reach out with a shaky hand. “please mi alma, let me explain—”

“stay the fuck away from me.”

the bastard winces again and immediately steps back, shooting a remorseful glance.

“you hurt me, miguel, and i will never forgive you.”

his teary eyes widen once again. but then he remembers his mother’s words.

‘then don’t expect forgiveness immediately.’

‘i won’t forgive you until she forgives you. but i highly doubt she will and i do not blame her one bit.’

you won’t be forgiving him, not any time soon or ever which means his mother won’t either. but your forgiveness is much more important.

your expression turns cold, serious as you glare up at him with piercing eyes. “i don’t give a fuck about your excuse. i’ll say this once and once only, stay the fuck away from me and my baby.”

miguel’s eyes widen in shock again, both at your cold demeanor and the word ‘baby.’ he didn’t have time to respond expect standing there like a fool as you rush past him without sparing one final glance, leaving him alone in the parking garage. tears trailing down his face as he process everything that just happened. he feels his whole body go into panic mode, chest heaving and breathing heavily. feeling the entire world crumbling in his grasp as you walk away.

that’s when it hits him, he just lost you forever.

ever since the argument with miguel, you’ve been staying at anne’s apartment. despite telling him to stay away from you, you knew he would keep running back to you since you’re literally next door neighbors. luckily, anne was kind enough to offer and allow you to stay at her place until things cool down. but honestly, who knows when that will happen.

since the argument, miguel has been leaving hundreds of text messages and calls. oh how the tables have turned. you blocked his number, thinking you should’ve done it sooner the moment he left and never came back for a while. but at least he gets a taste of his own fucking medicine.

with all these emotions, you’ve been thinking hard lately on your decision about the pregnancy. reflecting back your argument with miguel, you remember telling him to stay away from you and your baby. you referred to the tiny blob growing inside your belly as your baby, officially. you just said it to spite him, it was a spur of the moment. but reflecting on it got you thinking hard about this baby.

you’ve been rethinking everything. in the beginning, you were very uncertain about having a baby. there was no space in your apartment for another being, nevertheless a baby. although, you do make enough money to support another person. being a journalist does make you come home with some bank. it’s possible to make a small savings for baby stuff, a crib, car seat, stroller, diapers, and clothes. money doesn’t seem to be an issue. you just have to make little room for a crib, it can work out or just look for a place with two bedrooms would be easier.

but what’ve you been really thinking about is sarah, joel’s daughter. reflecting on those times during your relationship with joel, despite joel himself and his idiotic behavior, it was beautiful. sarah was a daughter to you and treated her as if she were your own. the way she sometimes called you ‘mom’ always made your heart skip a beat. earning such a title with significant meaning was an honor. she viewed you as a role model and a mother figure she’s been needing since her biological mother left once she was born. you stepped into that role and you enjoyed it very much. all the time you had spent together, shopping at the mall, painting each others nails, cooking and baking together, gossip about boys she had crushes on, do pranks on joel. you never realized how much you missed that.

sarah was your first glimpse at motherhood. you miss that bond. with this baby, you might have a second chance at having that bond again. don’t be mistaken, you miss sarah terribly, she is forever in your heart and viewed as a daughter to you. but with your own baby, you get to relive that bond on a much bigger level. a true shot at motherhood. perhaps you are ready for motherhood and just didn’t realize you’ve experienced it before.

luckily it was your day off so you remained in anne’s place and quickly texted the girls to come over to tell them big news regarding the baby. a few hours later, anne, lyla and mj show up with anticipated faces. all gathered up sitting at the dining table, they anxiously wait for the big announcement to come.

“so i finally made a decision….”

they can feel their hearts beating in anticipation. of course they knew about your uncertainty about the baby, whether you’d keep it or not. especially how terrified you were in the beginning. they all have been so supportive of you throughout this shitshow. now it’s finally time for the big reveal.

you, on the other hand, are anxious as your fiends are. heart pounding in your chest due to the anxiety flowing through your veins. it was a major thinking process for coming to a decision but part of you is finally prepared to finally reveal it.

“i’m keeping the baby.”

cries of relief fills in the air as your friends approach you with tearful eyes, warm embraces, and words of encouragement. that heavy feeling on your chest is finally lifted. the anxiety has suddenly vanished and relaxed with relief and happiness. for the first time in weeks, you cry tears of happiness.

you’re keeping this baby and are willing to take steps for preparing for motherhood. there were many doubts in the beginning but you’re fully confident to take this big step in your life. you want this baby and raise it with nothing but love and care.

but you also want to show that you’re capable of raising a baby on your own without miguel. you want to show him that you can do this without him because you don’t need him. he lost the right the moment he walk out the door. you’re going to show him you can do anything and nothing will stop you.

miguel can go fuck himself.

you and your friends end the night celebrating your big exciting news. while enduring a night of celebration, many blocks away back at your apartment building, miguel sits at the edge of his bed breaking down into tears for the nth time as he stares remorsefully at the picture of you and him at coney island you’d taken in a photo booth. drowning himself in tears of guilt as he realizes what he’s lost.

꣖　𝓣ags. ♡ྀིྀི　꣓⠀⠀@reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll ꣖　if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why　꣓

#⠀⠀૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა⠀˚⠀.⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀ ྀ⠀.⠀♡⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #military!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse

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goodluckchamp · 4 months ago

Text

GO PAT GO

PAIRING: Patrick Zweig x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Reader WORD COUNT: 2208 CONTENT TAGS: College AU, frenemies, betting, tennis match, light public humiliation, sort of insecure reader?, frat boys (tw), Patrick being a pervert/asshole, unresolved sexual tension SUMMARY: You lose a bet, and Patrick has a perverted dare you have to fulfill at his match.

It starts with a stupid bet. Because of course it does.

You and Patrick are bickering about something dumb— something not worth either of your time but it happens anyway— something about whether or not he can land a ridiculous trick shot in the dorm hallway with a tennis ball, a cup, and a frying pan.

This is the exact kind of nonsense you wanted to avoid ever since you and your roommate, Tashi, ended up living across the hall from this stupid tennis freak. Although the four of you have gotten pretty close, it’s been months of this— his relentless, brash need to prove himself to you in the most useless ways. You hate it. You hate him. (Though his roommate Art is quite sweet.)

Tashi, lounging in your bed, proposes a bet. Loser does a dare.

Somehow confident, you shake on it.

And Patrick nails the shot.

He is gleeful as you fume at the fact that the tennis ball, with a ridiculous precision, actually got into the slim cup with a single whack of a pan. Tashi gives Patrick some time to think of a dare, a really good one, for you to carry out. But he doesn’t think twice when he pulls out a picture of a specific outfit from a Halloween costume site. (The fact that he has the tab saved??)

Cut to Patrick’s match the next day, where you— murderous— sit in the front row, dead center of the bleachers in a skimpy, blue and white cheerleading outfit. Cropped tank, short skirt, knee-high socks, the works. Clearly, this outfit is meant for anything but actual cheerleading, seeing how the skirt is so short it’s practically indecent for any real sport. The whole thing screams “slut” in the sluttiest way possible— and you’ve already been whistled at by some frat dudes before the match even started. Fuck Patrick Zweig. You hope he fucking loses.

Much to your dismay, Patrick’s taking the lead with ease. But honestly? He barely even registers it. He’s too busy sneaking glances at you in that damn cheerleading outfit, thighs and arms crossed in an attempt to hide the exposed parts of your body. Your scowl should make you look intimidating but somehow, it just makes you look hotter.

And he knows that Tashi and Art are looking at you too.

Tashi’s leaning back in her seat, legs crossed, sipping her drink with a straw as she goes back between Patrick’s game and your thighs, right where you keep rubbing together as if it’ll make your skin go away. Patrick makes eye contact with Tashi, and her lazy smile is not subtle— like she’s already seen this whole scenario play out in her head before it even happened. She gives Patrick a short nod— that sly devil.

And Art? Although his eyes mostly remain at Patrick, he’s not being very subtle in his arousal either. He looks rather conflicted, like he doesn’t want to be affected because his best friend is playing tennis, Tashi's right there, and it’s so wrong to keep looking at you like that— yet his hands are clenched into fists, and he keeps shifting in his seat whenever you adjust yourself. He wants to pretend he’s above this, but he absolutely is not.

You watch as Patrick saunters to his seat during the changeover, racket hanging loose in his grip, sweat sleek on his arms. He takes a swig from his water bottle but his eyes casually flicks up— right at you.

Since you can’t flip him off in this very public event, you mouth the curse instead, nice and slow with a deliberate, irritated frown. Patrick smirks at your silent tantrum. Then, with his smug, manspreading posture that makes you want to strangle him, he winks.

Ugh. Patrick does not deserve to win this match.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous confidence, and you stuff your aggravation down to your stomach. But there’s no hiding the way your lips twitch like you’re fighting a smile.

And then— he goes off.

Patrick is everywhere on the court, fast and aggressive. His reflexes are tied to his instinct, and he moves like he knows he’s going to win. Tashi leans in. His footwork is effortless, his swings are precise— he’s locked in.

“Damn,” Art comments, completely invested. “He’s actually playing clean.”

Tashi smiles, amused. “He’s showing off.”

And it’s working. Because at some point, you stop thinking about your outfit, about the whistling frat dudes, and how childish this whole thing is— and you just watch him. So does everyone else.

Tashi’s elbow rests on her knees as she watches the match with sharp eyes, her drink discarded to the ground. Art has his hands gripping onto his seat, head turning left, right, left, right, following the tennis ball without fail. The crowd is hooked, and Patrick thrives in the spotlight like the attention whore he is.

Patrick wins, obviously. The ball bounces out of reach, and the match is over. The crowd cheers as Patrick drops his racket and turns to you, giving a cocky little bow. He’s such a proud motherfucker with his curls damp, his shirt clinging to him, and his eyes sealed on you like he’s won something bigger than the match itself.

And you— murderous, murderous— can’t stop your smile.

He rushes through the obligatory handshake with his exhausted opponent before he jogs up to where you’re sitting. He wipes the sweat trickling down his face with his shirt, head buzzing from the win as he approaches you.

“I won.” He grins. “What’s my reward?”

Your face twists, suddenly remembering, oh, right, you’re still in this fuckass costume.

“The reward is that I don’t murder you in this stupid outfit.”

Patrick leans in slightly. “Come on, (Y/N). Give me a little ‘Go, Pat, Go.’”

Tashi and Art are dying in the background and you just huff and turn your head away. Patrick laughs at your tinted cheeks but gives you grace, and leaves before he does something stupid.

Patrick offers to walk you back to your dorm after the game, alone, claiming that you need to pretend to be his cheerleader girlfriend so that he can show you off— which isn’t part of the bet but you find yourself doing it anyway.

He keeps bumping into people telling him how great he was today, while you stand awkwardly beside him with a bare-minimum smile plastered on your face out of politeness. You try to ignore the fact that you look like his trophy— dolled-up and suggestive— that’s about to be his reward back in his dorm room. The only thing you can do is cross your arms like you want to disappear.

You and Patrick finally reach your building, and you walk with a gap between the two of you through the hallway as a way of protest. But Patrick gets closer, putting his arms around you. You glare at him, and fuck, you look good doing it.

You push him away as an attempt to keep your distance, and Patrick, with his stupid, small mindedness, has the audacity to look offended. He is honestly confused. Because why are you so weird about this? Why are you acting like you did something humiliating instead of— well, just existing while looking hot?

“You know, I don’t get you sometimes.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Patrick just grins, his hands in his pockets as he walks. “No, really. You lose a bet, you put on a little skirt, and you look cute as hell. Like, really cute, by the way— but instead of owning it, you look like you want to kill me and yourself at the same time.”

“And?”

“And,” Patrick shrugs. “Tashi wears whatever the fuck she wants, walks around like she’s God’s gift to Earth—”

“ –She is.”

Patrick groans. You can be so protective over her. “Yes, she is. But she owns it. You don’t. And I’m wondering why that is.”

“You try putting on this stupid outfit and see how it feels,” you mumble, pulling out your keys from your bag. “Not everyone is as comfortable with attention as you.”

That slows him down as he cocks his head at your comment. “So that’s it? You hate attention?”

It’s not that you hate it, you think. You just hate it when it's from Patrick Zweig. But you’d never admit that.

“It’s just that people only give it when they want something.”

Patrick stops.

“What’s wrong with wanting something?”

You turn to him and he’s looking right at you— not with his usual teasing amusement, like he’s waiting for you to get angry or embarrassed— but there’s a genuine amount of sincerity mixed with wonder on his face. Like he’s actually curious for your answer. It makes you feel so strange.

“When I played today, I had your full attention,” Patrick hums. “Did you want something from me?”

“I wanted you to die?”

Patrick laughs. “Come on, be serious.”

You can hear your heartbeat speeding up in your ears— since when were you so uncomfortable with being honest? You’re fine. You’re an adult. You can talk about your feelings.

“Fine,” You exhale. “I wanted you to win.”

Patrick beams. Exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I liked that.” He tilts his head, as if to reminisce about the match. “Felt good, knowing you were watching. Wanting something from me.”

You feel heat creep up the back of your neck. You push it down.

“That’s different.”

You start walking again, your steps a little bit faster than before. You arrive by your door without giving another look towards Patrick, pulling out your keys to unlock your room.

But Patrick catches up to you, and his relentless persona is back— he needs to prove something to you again.

“Is it different, though?”

You open the door but he quickly presses his body against it, his body weight easily overpowering your pull.

You turn to him in irritation. “Let me open the door, Pat.”

He stupidly persists. “You act like wanting something is some big, dangerous thing.”

“It can be.”

He shakes his head. He’s not smiling anymore, like he’s actually frustrated at the wall you’ve put up just for him. And you’re grasping at the ends of it while it threatens to crumble away.

“I think it only feels that way when you believe that you don’t deserve it.” He leans closer. “Being wanted.”

You breathe in. It’s shaky. You refuse to fall this way. You stand your ground, eyes unwavering.

“So what do you want from me?”

Patrick stares at you for a moment, watching you twitch at the silence. When he finally smiles— like he knew you’d ask, but he likes that you did—something shifts.

The space between you disappears before you can register it. You’re unsure who moved first. You’d like to think it wasn’t you, but the chuckle before Patrick really goes for it gives you the truth. And it infuriates you.

His lips are surprisingly soft. You don’t want to admit you have thought about kissing him before, but you had your expectations— something rough, something intrusive, like he always is. But in reality, it’s actually quite sincere and earnest— like he truly, deeply wanted this for a very long time.

His hand grabs your face as he slides his tongue into you— and you push his back against the door, attempting to regain some form of control when you feel like you’re losing it. He just lets it happen and pulls your body closer, like your strength means nothing to him. His hand relishes the feel of your uncovered waist. His touch is warm and nice— and you— you don’t know why you ever acted like you didn’t want this.

Why didn’t you want this?

The answer slams into you as his fingers sneak into your top— Patrick Zweig wants a lot of things. A lot of people. It’s just who he is, all hunger and impulse, collecting desires to prove himself to something that claws at the core of his being.

And you refuse to be just another one of them.

The realization burns through the haze of lust and suddenly, the kiss, the touches, and his pounding heartbeat feels dangerous in a way that has nothing to do with how good it feels.

You pull back.

What a sight— Patrick’s lips are swollen, parted, along with his pupils blown wide— like he wants to say something clever or cheeky but there’s nothing left in his brain anymore.

He leans in again— and you wish you could keep him this way, tarnished and speechless— but you shove him away. You think he’ll push harder— do you want him to push you harder?— but he just stares at you like he knew this would happen. Something akin to defeat flashes past his expression.

He has nothing else to say as you open your door.

You swallow. “Goodnight, Patrick.”

Patrick watches you head into your dorm room, but he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks are flushed as you shut the door in his face.

He chooses not to comment on it.

He’d like to think that he’s not a complete asshole after all.

NOTE: Tashi please use me so you can manipulate the boys into playing better tennis hello please call me I miss you !!!

#challengers #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #challengers x y/n #challengers x you

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heart--of--gold · 11 months ago

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I think we NEED to discuss more on Logan being Wade's new roomie. Just, out of the sudden, this new hunk moves in with the really annoying (but lovable) guy that lives a couple doors down from you. warnings: Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, just some cozy ideas otherwise. wc: 430

Imagine trying to get your laundry done in the on-site laundry unit, and he's there. That's how you meet him, the mysterious roomie that barely leaves Wade's apartment. It's late at night, an effort on your part to avoid most people in the building, and he's there, the same reason as you, waiting for his clothes to finish the rinse cycle with a beer in hand. He's totally wearing that wife beater tank top, and you can either get caught staring at pure muscle or try to have a real conversation with him.

Imagine forming a friendship with him over those nights. Imagine how stiff and uncomfortable he was at first, he didn't even fold his clothes before leaving because he very much didn't want to be there. now he's cracking jokes and you're both bonding over your shared annoyance with Wade. you're both looking for any excuses to prolong the night.

Imagine Wade convincing you to join him and Logan on some shopping trip. Guy's new, stripped from his 'verse, and needs more clothes if he's sticking around. ("I think we all would love to see him walk around in his birthday suit, buuuut-") You can tell Logan doesn't wanna go, it's written all over his face, but he doesn't voice his protest when you agree. Btw, if he grabs a shirt just because you pointed it out, don't pay attention to it too much.

Actually, imagine running into Logan all the time after you two become friends. Like it's one thing to see him at the grocery store, but you run into him in the hall just before you leave for work and when you come back from work. He makes an appearance whenever you're talking with Wade, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring at you both. (Wade comments on it, something about a pup.) It's like he was purposefully hiding from you before, and now started making the effort to see you as much as possible.

Imagine bumping into Logan when he's taking Mary Puppins out on a walk. You're on your way up to your room, and you ask Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome if he'd like to join you for dinner tonight. Imagine if he looks at you with that stupid charming smirk and says yes.

Just. imagine being neighbors with Logan. Imagine pining after him and the very slow slowburn because of course the Wolverine has his walls up. Imagine Logan pining after you, with his conflicted feelings because he's much too old to be engaging in romance of all things.

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heehe ok don't mind me..!! just joining in on the fun, even if it's short. I've never written anything marvel related before, so i hope this was ok! requests for logan are open so I can get back into writing ^^''

#wolverine x reader #wolverine and deadpool #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine and deadpool spoilers #deadpool 3 #marvel x reader #wolverine || logan howlett #writing #reader insert #scripts and pages || writing tag

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sakurablossoms-world · 3 months ago

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Macaque’s Secret:

So it’s a commonly agreed upon headcanon within the fandom that Macaque is AFAB/FtM. Now what if I told you that there are details within the show, the sets, and twitter posts that hint to this idea being canon.

On their own these details don’t point to anything in particular, but when put together it paints a fairly clear picture.

Let’s begin:

- All of Macaque’s symbolism links to the Yin:

Darkness

The moon

Passiveness

The heart (strong emotions)

Evil (he is always referred to as the evil six eared macaque in the sets)

And most recently chaos

-Macaque is an extremely passive person (especially during his brotherhood days) he hardly ever reacts, speaks up, or defends himself, even when he does speak up if no one notices he’d back down. Even in modern day as he’s become far bolder, Macaque will avoid direct conflict as much as physically possible.

- Despite being the level headed one whenever Macaque does react or take action it’s always guided by strong emotions. These instances typically revolve around Wukong and MK. Whether it involves tormenting them or trying to protect/save them.

- His body language whenever he’s being sassy is stereotypically feminine:

Putting one hand on his hip

Crossing his arms behind his back while leaning forward

Leaning against others as if they were a wall

And during the attack on Ao Guan’s palace one of his shadow clones posed in the arrogant woman laugh

-In the show and in the sets (minus his first figure) Macaque has longer fluffier fur than Wukong.

- Alejandro Saab has confirmed that Macaque is shorter than Wukong (female macaques are typically smaller).

- Macaque clothes are noticeably baggy and (again minus the first set figure) is always covered up.

- The only time we see him wearing a form fitting outfit was his champion armor.

- The armor itself was designed to make him look like a queen when compared directly to Wukong’s King armor:

Same colors but different shades (yellow=gold, crimson=red, navy=cyan, gray=black).

Macaque’s armor is form fitting, while Wukong’s armor is loose.

Macaque has a noticeable hip curve while wearing this armor.

Wukong’s phoenix feather cap is meant to be a king’s crown, so Macaque’s cap which is just a hair pin with one phoenix feather would be a queen’s tiara by comparison.

-And considering LBD intentionally made the armor like this instead of giving him her color scheme like she did with the Mayor and Wukong, along with the fact that she can psychically link with anyone, it gives off the idea that when she revived him she found out about him being trans and designed the armor in a way to actively humiliate/threaten him, and maybe in a way dampen Wukong’s spirit with the fact that his “Queen” is her “Champion”. She has been shown on multiple occasions to be that petty.

- During the brotherhood flashback where they were preparing for battle Macaque became defensive when Wukong attempted to tighten his hip armor, likely because if it was tightened too much it would show off his hip curve.

-When Macaque disguises or draws himself he always makes himself appear overtly masculine:

The story boards for shadow play shows that Macaque’s beard was supposed to be long and bushy instead of neatly styled (the decision to change that detail was likely to save time during production).

Whenever he draws himself he always has bulging muscles. This only applies to him as we’ve seen in Wukong’s treasure room that he has a cutout of himself that was clearly drawn by Macaque that doesn’t have that detail, even in the video game he designed his character is the only one with bulging muscles.

- In the anniversary set only three villains have a hidden angry face those being Macaque, LBD, and Spider Queen. Essentially the only two female villains in the set along with Macaque. Now this detail wouldn’t mean much if not for the fact that Redson (who is still considered a villain in the sets) doesn’t have that hidden angry face.

-In the game that Macaque created for MK, the demon that MK kills appears male and has kidnapped a woman (typically demons will go after the opposite gender, whether it’s to eat or marry them), but after they’re killed it’s revealed that she was a woman.

- The person that Macaque takes the place of in relation to the JTTW brotherhood is the Spirit Macaque King, though they are also often known as the Female Macaque King or the Monkey Queen. This is because the mandarin word Mihou (Macaque) not only refers to the species, but can also be used to specifically refer to the female members of the species.

- Macaque’s voice has been shown to often change dramatically, during battle it becomes exceptionally deep, and becomes soft and silvery whenever he’s being vulnerable, which to me implies that he’s always using an auditory illusion to change his voice to a more masculine one.

- Whenever we see Wukong gift Macaque a peach it’s intact never bitten into (Gifting someone of the same sex a bitten into peach is symbolic of a same sex relationship).

- Wukong has been shown using feminine descriptors (softy and sweetie) with the brotherhood, this is likely so that if he slips up while talking to Macaque in their presence it goes unnoticed.

- With Wukong and Macaque both being beast type demons (the only difference between them and regular monkeys is their size and ability to talk) it’s likely that Wukong has known Macaque’s secret from the beginning and has kept it even after their falling out, out of respect.

- Despite all of Wukong’s subjects being clearly intelligent, we never see a single one of them being able to talk, so they likely never had to correct the way they addressed Macaque in the presence of others.

-To expand on that point after Macaque discovers that MK is a monkey he’s shown interacting with the little monkeys and is never bothered, except for the first one they find in the scroll, my guess is that the little monkey called Macaque something like Queen which meant that they revealed his secret, until Macaque reminded himself that MK doesn’t speak monkey.

Now many of you are probably asking what’s the point of secretly making Macaque trans. The answer is very simple, it’s a form of censorship to avoid international demonetization without having to drastically change the material, in order to one day officially canonize Shadowpeach in the show. The crew have already done something like this with Peng, who in the English version is AMAB Nonbinary and in the international versions and the sets is male. So something like this isn’t that far fetched. All they would have to do in the international versions once this is revealed is say that Macaque is passing as male (a woman pretending to be a man).

As for how I imagine the reveal, well it goes something like this:

After another victory over the season’s big world ending incident, the monkie gang are enjoying a meal at Pigsy’s.

When suddenly Macaque walks into the shop, everyone turns to greet him and are stunned silent at the sight of him.

Not only are his signature ears and scars visible, but he’s dressed in an outfit that, while very much his style, is obviously feminine.

Macaque takes a seat next to Wukong and greets everyone before making an order, and everyone (even Wukong) is stunned by his feminine voice.

(I envision Cynthia Cranz (the VA of Chichi in dragon ball) as Macaque’s feminine voice)

The silence is then broken by MK and Mei who are simultaneously bouncing off the walls in excitement and asking a million questions about this newly revealed secret.

While everyone else just looks on with comforting smiles at the fact that Macaque trusted them enough to reveal this fact about himself.

And when no one is looking Wukong gently wraps his tail around Macaque’s, who does the same in response.

Feel free to leave comments telling me what you think, just please remain polite in the comment section 😁

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk shadowpeach #shadowpeach #shadowpeachshipping #lmk monkie gang #lmk pigsy #lmk mei #lmk tang #lmk sandy #lmk mo #lmk camel ridge trio #lmk azure lion #lmk peng #lmk yellow tusk elephant

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