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saradika · 9 months ago

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— beneath the mask

din djarin x f!reader

rated t - 1.3k

tags: medieval!au, light angst, anxiety, arranged marriage, soulmate au, reader has a mother & father

prompt: "I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly” from the writing challenge hosted by the amazing and lovely @moonlight-prose 💖

when a mysterious stranger wins your hand at the tournament, you can't help but wonder about his intentions

With each step down the aisle, your legs threaten to give out.

A clicking of your teeth as you tremble, before you're gritting your jaw, biting your anxiety back. You have a reputation to uphold, even if you're only the daughter of a lord from a lesser house.

You're still a lady.

And this marriage would ensure a home for you. Protection. More than, if this man is what he says he is.

But a part of you desperately wishes that it was someone else at the end of the aisle.

You'd searched for a long time. For the glimpses that flash in your dreams at night. Knowing that he was out there - the one you had begun to think of as yours.

Your soulmate.

Never managing to meet the same eyes that reflect back at you in the darkness, just before you wake. Not once in the hundreds, thousands of people you’ve looked at, throughout your years.

And when none were found, you slowly gave up. Knowing the world was too large and you were too small, too poor, to seek them out.

Eventually agreeing to the match that your mother and father arranged.

If you could not have him, then you did not want anyone.

And now - the figure that waits for you stands tall.

Encased in gleaming armor, showing none of the nerves that wrack you. Making you wonder if you should have protested. Taken the path of the unwed, even if there was hardship in your future.

The stranger had won your favor, in the tournament. That is how the story will be told, passed on by your father.

Looking back, you remember very little from it. Knowing deep down that the winner would be the one to have your hand, whether you liked it or not. So much of it had turned to haze, as you had sat frozen there.

All but too nervous to watch, as weapons clashed, shields splintering.

Men you had known and grown up with falling beneath the sword of the mysterious man, clad in silver armor.

A Mandalorian, it was rumored.

Something from stories, you didn't know they still existed. An ancient clan of knights and warriors, honoring weapons and myths over sworn deities. Never revealing their faces to outsiders, and sometimes even to their own.

He had never killed any of them, and there was some comfort in that.

But that didn't mean he did not wound.

That he wasn't vicious, ferocious on the battlefield. Driven by an unseen force. Unrelenting, even when blood was drawn - splattering a bright crimson against his armor.

Showing just how he came to earn his station. The leader of his tribe, from the whispers you heard. Traveling far - slipping into the last few open brackets in the tournament, just as the first morning was starting.

Ripping through them all, in the days that followed.

You were given as the prize, in the end.

Even before the day ends, you would belong to him - ferried off to a new life tomorrow.

And this is what also slows your feet.

Wondering why such a man would come for you.

At the end of the aisle, you halt. The clergymany is speaking, but it's all white noise. Your own eyes wide and face solemn as you stare at your betrothed - your features reflected back at you in the tinted glass of his visor.

Acutely aware that you haven't seen his face. Not knowing what your husband was to look like.

Was he younger than you? Or older... older than your father?

Was his face kind, or was it as sharp as his movements? Was it all snarling teeth, beneath?

Were his eyes blue, or green, or just maybe... brown? Like his?

You don't know. You think not. Leaving you to wonder how you will bear it - to spend each day staring into their eyes while dreaming of anothers.

It's only when a voice raises that you're snapped from your thoughts. Realizing that the ceremony is waiting for you.

Managing, with a stammer, to repeat the words. To pledge yourself - your life and love - to this stranger.

The words repeated after, a low voice layering with metal. The shaking of your hands is still visible when they reach out to meet his, the tips of yours resting against wide, steady palms.

Covered in gloves but solid, like the rest of him.

Only the peek of tanned skin visible when he peels the glove from his hand. A small comfort coming in the warmth of his hand, as you slip the ring on his finger, settling it just above a scarred knuckle.

The careful brush of his fingers - a calming stroke against your skin, when he slips a matching one on yours.

Gentle, after everything.

Not him.

But perhaps, not a monster.

The celebrations swirl past you. There's music you don't remember. A meal that sits heavy in your stomach, from the meager amounts you managed to swallow.

A smile plastered on - assuring your excitement to family and friends - all while you worry about the hours to come.

Will he be as gentle as he was during the ceremony?

Or will it be more like the battlefield?

These thoughts linger, as the hours pass. Until the sun dips below the horizon, until the stars blanket the sky.

And then, you're alone.

Waiting in the finest room prepared for him in the guest wing. The pretty, ivory gown stripped from you, replaced with something thin and fine and silver - hand-sewn and intended to please him.

Pacing, until you hear the heavy steps approaching - as he returns from a meeting with your father, your dowry and your life handed over.

Leaving you frozen in place, as the door opens. Where he lingers, filling the space.

A different man than before, you think.

There had not been a slope to his shoulders, the way he moves as if afraid to frighten you.

His voice is different too - soft now, coaxing.

"I wish our meeting had been under more pleasant circumstances." Your husband tells you, as the door slowly shuts behind him.

Trapping you, now. The iron latch heavy, as it locks into place.

"But I could not bear to stand by." He continues, that hard edge creeping into his voice again, "You must understand."

"I don't." You manage - your brow pinched, shifting the smallest step backwards as he moves forward.

He goes still, at your retreat.

"Do you not, ner kar’ta?" His head tilts, "Do you not know why I have come?"

The shake of your head is small. Not understanding the name he calls you, his intentions.

He hesitates then, for a second. Before his hands are reaching - grasping the edge of his helmet. Slipping it from his head, as his head dips.

His hair is dark, beneath. Messy and curling, greying at the temples, down to the scruff that lines his jaw beneath plush lips and the curve of his nose.

And his eyes. That pretty shade of brown, the dark fan of his eyelashes.

You know them. Though you've never seen them, yourself.

For a moment, you can't breathe. Frozen for an entirely new reason - starting back at the eyes that you've seen so often.

"It's you," You manage. The words are no more than a soft gasp.

He lets you touch him, then. Fingertips tracing his jaw, those eyes slipping shut when your fingers brush the nape of his neck. Somehow knowing how the curls would feel against your fingers, already knowing each detail of his face.

Hidden deep down, revealed bit by bit in your sleep.

Only now, do you see all of him.

And only now, do you lean in. Your head tipping towards him, just as his forehead presses against yours. And it's now that you understand the warmth of his touch - the way it seems to soak into your skin. A lost piece of you, now becoming complete.

You hadn’t been able to find him - so he had found you, instead.

Unable to help the smile, as the dark pit in your stomach blooms into spring.

I wanted it to be you, you think - as your heart finally starts to beat again. I wanted it to be you so badly.

There's a hitch in his breath, with your touch. Fingers that stretch out and then curl, until you're taking them yourself, slipping yours between them.

"Now do you know?" Your husband murmurs, in the voice that you know as well as his eyes.

And you do - the answer coming easily, as you nod, "Because you're mine."

"Yes," He smiles.

"Yours."

i cant stop writing soft!soulmate din 💖 thank you for reading!!

ner kar’ta - my heart

#so sorry I am late my love #I have been thinking about this so much - such an great prompt and event!! 💖#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #writing challenge #din djarin imagine #din djarin

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writingsbychlo · 6 months ago

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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

word count; 7077

notes; literally the moment I started watching the PPP music video I was like 'oh it's so matty coded' and this came to mind immediately. I didn't intend for it to get so long, it was supposed to be a short drabble. whoops.

The first time you met Mattheo Riddle, you were just walking out of detention as he was walking in.

Well, being dragged in by Madam Hooch, more like. He had blood on his face, and his knuckles, and he was smirking to himself as a sorry-looking Cormac trailed them inside. His eyes met yours, he’d winked, and you’d both continued to watch one another over your shoulders as you crossed paths, until the door shut.

You were his, from that very first moment.

The following days brought stolen glances across the classrooms and the Great Hall, his arrogant smirks and your shy smiles, and the look on his face that made you blush. You had to see him again, and opportunity presented itself that same Thursday, in Potions class, as Mattheo argued with Snape over… something.

You’d tuned out, preferring to sit and watch him. He was just so pretty when he was mad.

“That will be detention, Mr Riddle.” Snape drawled in that monotonous tone of his, and Mattheo glared across the classroom at the professor, who looked like he couldn't have cared less if he tried. “Unless anybody else has any objections, we can return to—”

Your book hit the ground with a resounding thud. The sound of it echoed around the room, and all eyes turned to you. You weren’t sure what exactly had brought it on, and your friends stared at you, horrified about the disruption. An excuse sat on the tip of your tongue, but then your eyes met those enchanting honey-brown ones, and he was smirking at you once again, a single brow raised.

“Motherfucker.” You squeaked out, and after a pause that felt like it lasted an eternity, your professor sighed.

“Very well. Detention for you, too.”

Your jaw dropped, heat flushed your face, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched into a smile. Another wink, and you were a goner.

That same evening in detention, you’d been punctual and prompt, and he had sauntered in fifteen minutes late, sliding into the chair right beside you. Whispered conversations became jokes and confessions, inching closer and closer together, until you could count every little freckle that danced across his nose, and taste the nicotine and mint still on his breath when he spoke. His eyes held you captive, the stories he told had you on the edge of your seat, and the way his hand slid up your thigh had you burning.

Your first kiss was a month later, when he’d made you promise not to get any more detentions just to see him. Instead, you’d waited outside the classroom, and the moment he’d been out, he’d given you that same flirty grin. Pressed up into the stone wall behind you, with one of his hands beside your head as the other sat on your waist, his tongue had slipped into your mouth. He’d tasted like chocolate and cigarettes, and you’d been intoxicated.

And when he pulled back, his softest smile yet on his face as his hand had taken your own, you’d known that he was yours, too.

“What do you mean you’re going out with Mattheo Riddle?” Your friend hissed, her eyes wide as the two of you huddled close together, ducking along the corridors as you hurried to your next class.

“Well, I mean that he asked me out on a date, and I said yes, so—”

“Don’t be sassy with me!” She scoffed, and you smiled, shrugging. She really had left herself wide open for that, it wasn’t your fault you took the chance she presented. “He’s bad news.”

“Oh, come on. What does that even mean?”

“It means that he’s bad for you. He’s bad for everyone!” Finally reaching the classroom —early, as always—��the two of you settled in at your desk, unpacking your books, and still whispering despite the empty classroom you found yourselves in. Not even the professor had arrived yet. “He’s always getting in fights, and he’s always in trouble or detention, and— hey! I bet he’s the reason you’ve been getting a string of detentions lately, huh?”

You had no rebuff to that, heat coating your cheeks but you couldn't hide the smile that grew on your face at the mere thought of all your detention time spent together. “He told me not to do that anymore, that’s why he asked for a date! See? He’s good for me.”

“Oh, gee, what a saint he is.” She muttered, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d fall out. All humour slowly dissipated between you both, and she frowned and opened her notebook, dipping a quill in fresh ink. As the seconds ticked by, tension grew between you both that you didn’t like.

“Look, I know what people say about him, and the reputation he has, but he’s not like that with me. He’s not been like that with me.” Your hand lifted, scratching your cheek subconsciously. “It’s… not our first date. It’s just the first one I’ve told you about, because I knew you’d react like this. But, if you knew him like I did, you’d understand…”

Your voice trailed off, dreamy with a sigh and she turned to look at you. One of her brows raised as she put down her quill delicately. A beat passed, and her shoulders sagged, a little of the tension slipping free. “He really makes you happy? Because… I’m just worried about you, y’know?”

“I know, and I love you for that. But I just need you to be happy for me right now.”

“He’s going to break your heart. He’s going to make you cry, and hate the world, and I don’t like that.”

Your hand slipped to hers, taking it in yours and squeezing. Flicking through your mind was the confidence brought on by every sweet word he whispered in your ear. All the soft kisses and touches. They didn’t know the kindness, and the devotion, and the loyalty.

How could they, when they never gave him a chance? But his friends did, they saw the same side of him that you did. The version of him that would defend their name, and stop at nothing to make them happy. The version of him that didn’t believe the lies and the rumours, and never even looked at any other girls.

They didn’t know how funny he was, how secretly cuddly he was, or how he just craved a little attention. They didn’t see him on the nights he’d sneak into your dorm just to crawl into bed and hold you, or the flowers he’d drop off outside your door. They didn’t see the love-hearts written on the corners of his notes in class or the way he got grumpy if he went too long without affection.

You had good taste. You knew you did. It was just a shame nobody else saw it.

“He won’t, I know he won’t.”

“I hope for your sake he proves me wrong.”

Mattheo was nothing if not a sweet-talker. He’d spent the morning covering you with kisses, and whispering into your ear about the date he would take you on tonight. By the end of the day, you’d been kissed on every inch of your face, and the husky tone of his voice was still ringing in your ears as he bid you goodbye, and promised to pick you up in a few hours.

He’d been right on time, too. Knocking at your door at seven on the dot with flowers in hand and a whole new batch of compliments rolling off of his tongue. Gods, did Mattheo love to make you blush. Everything from looking you up and down seductively, to telling you that you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he did it all.

He kissed you like you were the only woman in the world, like he wanted you to feel his love and devotion as much as he spoke the words, and you melted into him every time. Whether it was a brush of his lips over your own, or his hands grasping at your body, pulling you so close you nearly fused as his mouth claimed yours, he did all of it so passionately.

Now, he was kissing your knuckles, guiding you toward one of the more expensive restaurants in Hogsmeade, one you’d never been to before, and grinning at your expression.

“Matty, this place isn’t cheap!”

“Nothing will be good enough for my girl, but certainly nothing cheap. For now, this is the best I can give to you.” Tugging you in close, the two of you stood outside of the beautifully decorated little building, and he nudged his nose against yours. “One day, I’ll take you all around the world, to eat the best food with the best views.”

“Oh…” Your hands settled on his face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks as he smiled, and you pressed a kiss on his lips in gratitude as words seemed to escape you entirely. “I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty girl.” His arms were tight around your waist, not quite ready to go yet, and his lips parted like there was something more he had to say. “Listen, when we get in there, I just have to speak to one of the workers real quick, okay?”

“Okay.” It didn’t seem all that concerning to you, and with a final kiss to your lips, he was holding open the restaurant door for you. His hand was warm in your own as he led you through the building. But then he was guiding you right past the hostess station, and you glanced back to it, but his feet never stopped moving, and you hurried to keep up with him.

Past tables and other workers, your jaw dropped with a soft gasp as he let himself into the back of the restaurant.

“Matty, I don’t think we’re allowed back here…”

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” Mattheo smiled, leaving another kiss on your cheek as he let go of your hand. “Wait here for me, ‘kay? I just need to speak to one of the chefs.”

With that, he was disappearing into the kitchens, and you leaned back against the wall, staring at the clock opposite you. Seconds ticked past, turning into minutes, ten of them, to be precise, before the shouting started. Mattheo was yelling, you’d know his voice anywhere, and when you poked your head around the doorframe and into the kitchen, it was to find him holding a vaguely familiar-looking chef by the collar, and slamming him into a wall.

“Mattheo!”

Your voice fell on deaf ears, as the two began to push. Mattheo’s back hit the counter behind him, a sickening smack and a grunt of pain, before the two were throwing fists. Every crunch of bones on skin and every rattling sound of a body hitting the workstations and countertops made your stomach turn. You covered your ears, turning your back on it all and shaking your head.

You didn’t need to see that.

Eventually, the other chefs stepped in, dragging Mattheo out of the backdoor. When it was all over, you apologised profusely as you hurried through the kitchen to follow after him, hopping over the boy he’d beaten half-senseless who was groaning on the floor.

Stepping out through the backdoor, Mattheo was pacing, spitting a bloody mouthful out onto the floor, and his head snapped up in your direction. Only when he realised who it was did his gaze soften, and he wiped his palm across the back of his mouth.

A few seconds of silence passed as the shock settled and you checked he was okay, and when he reached for you, you turned from him. Storming away down the alley, you heard his frustrated groan behind you, the sound of him kicking a trash can, before he was hurrying after you.

“Okay, I know that wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go—”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Your laugh was so dry it almost made your chest hurt, and you didn't even bother to look back at him as you began to walk back through Hogsmeade.

“I fucked up, I know—”

“Understatement of the century.” You muttered, ignoring his attempts at excuses and explanations as you wove through the streets. People offered you both funny looks, no doubt because of the blood running from his nose as he tried to stop it, the pair of you mid-argument.

When you reached the edges of the town, Mattheo fell into step beside you, his hand skimming down your back, burning into you through the thin fabric of your dress. A dress that had been a damn waste to put on.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, slapping his hand away from your lower back, and he whined.

“Oh, come on, baby. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry! You planned this, and told me we were going on a date!” Your arms crossed over your chest as you stomped back out of the small village, beginning the walk back towards the school. “You lied to me!”

“Woah, now! Hey! I never lied! I fully intended to—” He huffed as you continued to walk ahead of him, all but speeding in your heels until you wobbled, and he cursed under his breath, catching you to steady you. Spinning you around, he tipped your chin up with one finger. “Listen, pretty girl. I never meant for all this to happen, okay? I meant it when I said I’d made us a reservation. I just figured I’d go and get my money from this guy, maybe even let him off a few galleons so he’d give us better service, and then we’d have a nice date. I didn’t expect him to start a fight!”

“He didn’t start the fight, you did!” You poked a finger into his chest, and he winced. Obviously, you’d found a bruise by mistake. Smoothing your palm over it in way of a silent apology, his hand cupped yours, holding it over his heart. “You said ‘Let’s take this outside’.”

“Okay, well, I was calling his bluff. I didn’t expect him to actually take me up on it!”

Your jaw tightened, and your lip wobbled. You felt ridiculous, you’d gotten all dressed up, and you were hungry, and he’d let you down. At your expression, his own face crumpled, and he sighed sadly as he cupped your cheeks.

“Please, baby, don’t cry because of me. You look so pretty, you did your makeup so nice, I don’t want you to cry because of me. Let’s just go back and find somewhere else to eat, yeah?”

“I don’t want to, and we can’t! You’re dirty and bleeding, and you’ve got a black eye coming on. We can’t go anywhere.” You muttered, crossing your arms. He leaned in, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I love you, more than anything. I really didn’t mean for it to go like this. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Promise me.” You huffed, gaze finally returning to his, and he nodded emphatically. “No more acting stupid in front of me.”

“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again, okay? When I’m with you, it’s all you.”

Just like that, he had your walls crumbling. How could you stay mad at him, when he smiled so sweetly, and made you feel so special? You gave in, one hand lifting to his cheek, touching gently at the swollen skin around the cut on his face. He hissed and pulled back, and your frown only deepened. “C’mon, you can come to my dorm, I’ll clean you up.”

“You’re gonna’ clean me up?” His smile was like that of a puppy, taking your hand happily and guiding you back along the path. “I tell you what, I’ll force Nott to sneak into the kitchens and make us some pasta, in exchange for the room to himself tonight, how’s that?”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You smirked, and he matched it, shrugging.

“I don’t know. Maybe the cold, stone floor in front of the common room fireplace.” Your eyes rolled, and he dipped his head, leaving a kiss on your neck. “Or maybe, my loving girlfriend will let me stay over, and I’ll make it worth her while…”

“I don’t want to look at your battered face.”

“Put a pillow over my head and get on top, then.” He snickered, and your jaw dropped.

“Matty!”

You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go.

You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome.

With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly.

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention.

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans.

You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently.

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm.

“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you.

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it.

He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it.

“How about the forest, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head.

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you.

“How about the Lake, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you.“Baby, wake up.” The words were mumbled tenderly into your ear, and you groaned a little at the hand gently shaking your shoulder. “Come on, pretty girl, open those eyes.”

“What, Matty? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, that’s why it’s the perfect time!” Excitement tinged his voice, and as you forced your eyelids open, you found him standing at the edge of your bed, wand lit up dimly, and your coat in his hand. “Get up, baby. We’re going for a walk.”

“Now?”

“Yes. You don’t think the stars and the moon are romantic? Isn’t there just something… better about the night?”

Your smile was against your will, sitting up slowly and swinging your feet out of the bed, suppressing a yawn. “You’re lucky I wore full pyjamas to bed tonight.”

“You mean I could’ve walked in here to find you naked?” He clasped a hand over his heart, letting out a pained groan. He handed you his wand to hold, before dropping to his knees before you.

“No, you perv! I meant that I’m wearing full-leg pyjamas, not my shorts!”

He only snickered to himself, while navigating your trainers onto your feet and tying the laces up for you. Once they were secure, he took his wand back, sliding it into his back pocket and clasping your hands in his own. With a kiss on your lips, he wrapped the warm coat over your shoulders. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, Matty.”

He grinned at that, taking your hand, and leading you through the silent halls. Twigs snapped under your feet as you crossed the courtyard together, giggling and shushing each other, and you had to admit that he was right. Both the adrenaline of it all, and the beauty of the scenery, made for the perfect blend of excitement and romance.

As you cleared the school building and began to make your way out across the fields, Mattheo’s arm looped around your waist, supporting you through every dip and hole in the grass, never letting you so much as stumble.

“Nearly there.” He whispered into the cold night air as you approached the quidditch grounds, the different house flags blowing gently in the summer breeze.

“Nearly where? I thought we were just going for a walk.”

He didn’t reply, and only a couple of steps later, the barely concealed voices of several of his friends carried across the pitch towards you both. “Mattheo Riddle, I swear to Merlin, if you’ve brought me along on one of your ridiculous schemes—” You shrieked, cutting yourself off as one of the Weasley’s firecrackers shot past your head, between the two of you, and Theodore’s laughter echoed out, following it.

“Oi, Nott, watch it. If that’d hit my girl, the next thing to be hit would be your face on the fuckin’ concrete.”

“Relax, she ducked! No harm, no foul. Right, principessa?” Theo smirked, seeming to appear from the shadows as he sparked his lighter, and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette. Lorenzo was there too, a bag over one shoulder that rattled suspiciously as he came towards the three of you, and your arms crossed protectively over your body.

“Matty, what is this?”

“Don’t flirt with my girl in Italian.” Mattheo glared at his friend, but it soon melted away as he was handed the cigarette, and Theo tucked his hands into his pockets, appraising you.

“This, bella, is revenge.”

“What did I just say about the Italian—?”

“Why do you need revenge?” Your words crossed Mattheo’s who only huffed, but remained quiet as he passed the cigarette beyond you to Enzo. Nobody answered, and your boyfriend shuffled from one foot to the other as your narrowed gaze turned on him. “Mattheo.”

“The Gryffindors were talking shot about our upcoming game, and McLaggen and his mates thought it’d be funny to charm all our jerseys pink for practice, so we’re just getting even.”

“Why do I get the feeling that whatever you’re about to do is far beyond ‘even’? Pink jerseys don’t seem equal to… whatever you’re doing here. I want no part of it.” You spun on your heel, but didn’t get very far, not even a single step, before Mattheo was wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you into himself. You jabbed a finger into his chest, putting the full heat of your wrath into your stare, “You said we were going for a walk!”

“We are! We did. Look, this is gonna’ be fun, you’ll see. I know how much that one Gryffindor chick has been pissing you off lately. I'm getting revenge for you too, here!” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your lips, before planting a kiss there. “I’m avenging you, baby.”

He took your hand, pulling you along behind him with the kind of infectious excitement that made you smile, even when you didn’t want to. Sitting down on one of the benches, you watched with an amused smile at the way he and his friends whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves as they thought through just what they might do.

That innocent adoration you had didn’t last long.

You’d been expecting a few stink bombs in lockers and foul-smelling potions tipped into the shower drains that would stink for weeks. Maybe even a hex or two for inconvenience. A shriek burst past your lips as another of Theodore’s rockets shot past your head, screeching as it went and your hands clasped over your ears.

He was letting them off, inside. Glitter exploded everywhere, the few flaming pieces of ash sprinkling down eroded holes in the towels and jerseys hanging on hooks around the locker room. Glass shattered somewhere, and Theo all but howled with laughter as the rocket shot off into the night sky to fizzle out with a colourful bang.

Enzo was spray-painting something on the walls in the shower room, following his rude and physically impossible message spray-painted on the inside of the door that he was still snickering to himself about.

Mattheo was systematically unlocking all of the cupboards, and placing a different bad-luck hex on every single piece of equipment. After leaving a sporadic spiral-dive hex on one of the brooms and putting it back, you’d had enough.

Sweeping your hair out of your eyes, you stood, making your way over to his side. “Matty…”

“Yeah, baby?” He was distracted as he mumbled his response, careful wand-work as he charmed one of the beater’s bats to flop like wet spaghetti every time they tried to hit something.

“Mattheo.”

At your tone, and the use of his full name, he looked up. He took in the nervous expression on your face, the sad and pouty frown on your lips, and sighed. “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“They were talking shit about us!”

“You're risking really hurting someone, though!” You gestured around, from his handiwork to the broken window and glass fragments on the floor. “You’re actually damaging school property!”

“A few spells will have it cleaned up in no time. Don’t be dramatic.”

You gaped at him for a second, before walking away, turning your back to him and plopping down back onto the bench with a huff. Behind you, you heard him kick something, swearing under his breath, before he stepped back into your sight. When you didn’t look up at him, he dropped down to his knees, forcing himself into your line of vision.

He has his puppy dog eyes on, and pressed a kiss to each of your hands as he took them in his own. “I didn’t mean it like that, pretty girl. I just meant… you don’t get it. This is what we do. You’re just too sweet for this, you wouldn't hurt a fly. But this could be so much worse, it’s all a bit of fun, just trust me, yeah? I’m getting them back, for me, and for you.”

“But it’s a lot. And I never asked you to get even for me.” You whispered, and he nodded.

“You don’t have to ask. I protect you, that’s what I do. It’s you and me, baby. For life.” You softened a little at that, and he noticed, his smile growing again as he knelt up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I won’t do anymore, how’s that? I’ll round up the boys, and we’ll get out of—”

Just then, voices flickered through the room. The angry, panicked shouting of at least six different people, rapidly got louder as they neared the space you occupied. Enzo clambered up onto one of the window ledges, and peered out of the broken glass. “Oh, shit. They know. ‘Least ten Lions, coming this way. And fast. Fucking go!”

The first spell bounced through the open glass, sending shards flying as it caught the last of the jagged spikes still on the frame, just as Enzo ducked out of the way. Theo scrabbled past, and out of the back door, Enzo quickly following, and you jumped to your feet as Mattheo did.

Another spell burst through, bouncing on the locked door, and the muffled voices of your accomplices felt a million miles away as fear struck through your body. The door rattled again, the lock creaking as the half-arsed spell they’d sealed it with threatened to give way. The pounding of your heart in your chest was deafening, roaring in your ears—

Then, a hand clamped down on yours, pulling you along. “Baby girl, let’s go! Come on, what are you doing?”

Mattheo tugged on your hand, like a splash of cold water the jolt he made snapped you to your senses. You stumbled after him, staring at his bouncing curls and the flush of his cheeks as he looked at you, guiding you out of the backdoor and into the night. Stumbling down the hill, the two of you ran so fast you almost fell several times, angry shouts following you out into the night as flashes and flickers of bright spells whizzed past you constantly.

You let Mattheo guide you, running until your lungs burned and your chest ached from your pounding heart, but you’d lost them. You’d lost Theo and Enzo, too. Silence shrouded you both as you finally came to a stop, only the lapping water at the shore of the lake and both of your soft pants to break the heavy quiet.

He turned to you, one hand lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you glared at him as he leaned in to kiss one of your no-doubt flushed cheeks.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, knuckles still tracing up and down your jaw as he stared at you under the moonlight.

“I’m so mad at you for that. I hate running, and panicking, and vandalising. All the things I hate, you just wrapped ‘em up in one.”

He smiled something wicked, and leaned in, to bump his nose with your own. “You love me, though.”

“Debatable, right now.” Your scoff was lost as he pressed soft kisses to your lips, coaxing you into remembering just how much you loved him. You were ashamed to say that it worked, as you parted your mouth a little more to reciprocate.

You felt his smile pressed to your mouth as he did, that hand on your cheek smoothing out, fingers in your hair as he cupped your head, and angled your face for a deeper kiss.

You were once again both panting by the time he pulled away, satisfied and smitten.

“Come on, my angry girl. Let’s go for that walk now, yeah? Just me and you for a stroll around the lake.”

You winced as another cracking sounded out, the echo of Mattheo’s fist against the cocky Ravenclaw’s jaw had your stomach rolling. A boy you’d never much cared about. He was entitled and arrogant, and tended to run his mouth a little too much. He thought he was the best thing to grace the halls of Hogwarts, and a blessing to womankind, and you’d caught his eyes on you a couple of times.

Of course, you’d never mentioned as much to Mattheo, in hopes of sparing him this exact situation. Mattheo didn’t take kindly to lingering gazes, and he didn’t tolerate leering ones at all. He was protective, overprotective, and he was a little bit crazy. He was also in love, and in his opinion, the cat-call the Ravenclaw had given to you and the choice words he’d accompanied it had crossed a line.

And they said Ravenclaws were the smart ones.

So, Mattheo hadn't hesitated. He’d dropped your hand, curled it into a fist, and swung on the boy before he’d even finished smirking at your shocked look.

Now, you were sighing, as he took the Ravenclaw down to the ground, uncaring of the blow to his shoulder as the two rolled over the stone floors. Scuffling and throwing blows, a crowd formed around them, jostling you endlessly from side to side. He was winning, as always, beating the poor boy into the same blue as his house banners, and no amount of pleading on your behalf to just drop it was going to stop him now.

You should’ve been halfway to Hogsmeade by now. You’d never make your reservation, and you’d gotten yourself all dressed up for nothing. Hours wasted on hair and make-up and picking out the perfect outfit for this date, all for Mattheo’s impulsive temper and one gross creep to ruin it.

The two continued to brawl, fists slamming, feet kicking, and blood splattering as the crowd cheered and shouted so loud it was deafening. You’d learnt it the hard way a long time ago that you couldn't do anything to stop him now, not when he got into this state, without risking getting hurt yourself. All you could do was wait, and hope.

Finally, the Gryffindor prefect stepped in. He was a sturdy man, broad-shouldered and thick-muscled, as was his friend, as the two grabbed for one of Mattheo’s arms each, pulling him off and to his feet. Blood streamed from his nose, and he grinned, pink tainting his teeth before he spat at the boy curling up on the floor.

“You be fucking glad they stopped me, because I wouldn't have!”

“For fuck’s sake…” You muttered, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your cheeks as several gazes fell on you. Elbowing his way through the crowd was an equally red Professor Slughorn, but his flush was from anger.

“Riddle! Of course, it’s a Riddle. You can take yourself to detention.”

A whine slipped free from your throat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Mattheo attempted to shake off the two prefects, wiping his nose with his sleeve and wincing at the feeling. He shrugged, “I can’t tonight, professor. I have plans.”

“I don’t care! Detention, now!”

Stepping over the Ravenclaw still whimpering at your feet, Mattheo smiled what you assumed was supposed to be a seductive grin at you as you neared him. With the split of his lip, the stain of dried blood on his face, and the splotchy swelling along his nose and jaw, it didn’t quite hit the mark anymore. You were too angry to fall for it.

“So you’re bailing on our date, again?” Your lip wobbled, arms crossed your chest as you tried to glare at him, but the stinging in your throat betrayed you as your voice cracked.

“Don’t cry, baby, you did your make-up so nice. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He leaned in, lowering his voice in an attempt for intimacy, despite the Gryffindors tugging on his arms. “I love you.”

You sighed, but released your anger, cupping his face softly so as not to aggravate the painful patches further. “I love you too.”

His lips barely brushed your own before Slughorn was grabbing him by his collar, and yanking him away through the crowds towards detention. Once he was gone, the cowering boy on the floor dragged himself to his feet, his friends hauling him away, and he made the wise decision not to even glance in your direction.

Even as the crowd parted and you made your way back to your dorm, the lingering feeling of anger petered out to immense disappointment.

Your reflection was frowning as you stared at yourself in the mirror, pretty outfit and stunning makeup, all going to waste while your boyfriend rotted the night away in detention.

Detention.

The same place where your relationship had started, and a ridiculous idea began to root itself in your mind. Tipping out the contents of your school bag, your books and quills scattered across the bedding, and you repacked it with what you’d need instead.

With a fresh spritz of perfume and a new swipe of lipgloss, you left your dorm, heels clicking against the stone as you hurried yourself along on your mission. The doors were spelled against sneaking out of detention, but sneaking in was surely a different case.

Your suspicions were confirmed as you pushed the door open, the loud creak echoing through the room, but you were granted entry as you stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind you, and yet, Flitwick didn’t so much as flinch from where he was snoozing atop the desk at the front of the classroom. Mattheo watched with widening eyes and tissues pressed to his nose as you walked through the aisles and took a seat beside him at the desk he’d claimed as his own.

“What’re you doin’ here, baby?”

You scoffed at his muffled voice, swinging your bag off your shoulder and onto the desk, before sitting down. Taking his hands in your own, you pulled them back, inspecting the damage he’d made to his pretty face. “It’s date night. I wasn’t going to let you sit in here all alone, when I put effort into looking this good.”

Your whispered words made him grin, and you took the tissues from his hands, dabbling softly at the last of the blood. When it was gone, you rifled through your bag instead, producing a small vial of swirling purple liquid. Upon seeing it, he groaned. “Oh, no, I hate those. They taste gross and musty.”

“Maybe if you hadn't done this to yourself, you wouldn't have to take it.” You uncapped the vial, and as the smell drifted to him, he gagged. You raised it to his lips, and he offered a sullen look but parted them for you to tip it into his mouth. Swallowing it came with a grimace, and you wiped your thumb over his lips to get rid of the sticky residue it left. Within seconds, the swelling on his jaw was going down, the cut on his nose was healing over, and the nasty bruising under his eyes was fading away. “That’s better. My pretty boy is back.”

He blushed at that but offered a cheeky grin, and leaned in to kiss you sweetly. Before his lips could meet yours, you swerved, and he grunted unhappily as his mouth landed on your cheek instead.

“You’re not kissing me while you still taste like that gross potion.”

“Typical.” He mumbled, but left a few more peppered kisses along your jaw. You worked as he did, laying out the various snacks you’d brought with you along the table, and as he caught sight of the chocolate frog, an excited gasp slipped free. He snatched the frog up quickly, tearing off the foil wrapper and snapping off a leg.

He lifted it to your lips, always offering you the first bite, and you let him feed it to you while he watched on. Happy you’d taken it, he snapped off another, dropping the chunk into his mouth and chewing happily.

“God, I love you so fucking much,” He sighed as he finished eating, finally leaning in to claim this kiss he had been denied earlier. “I’m gonna’ marry you someday.”

“Yeah, and you’ll probably get yourself arrested on the big day.” Your voice was bitter but your smile was the same as whenever he talked of his plans or your joint future. He knew you were bluffing too, closing the gap between you both once again, and nipping gently on your bottom lip.

“I always come back to you though, baby.”

That made you kiss him properly because you had no retort to offer. It was true, he always found his way back to you. He was crazy, reckless, and impulsive, but he was in love with you, and he didn’t care to hide it.

Not from the others in the detention room, not from the people in the halls, not from anyone on this earth. It was the two of you together, he’d never leave you behind or let you down, and you could trust him in that.

So, maybe he did prove ‘em right. But he also proved you right. Mattheo Riddle was so much more than they all said he was. He was loyal and loving, and he was yours.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle/reader #mattheo riddle/you #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #benjamin wadsworth x reader #benjamin wadsworth/reader

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miniimight · 7 months ago

Note

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk sukuna #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk comfort #dad sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk x you #ryomen x reader #ryoumen sukuna

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cavillscurls · 2 months ago

Text

Goodnight Kiss

joel miller x f!reader

Joel’s a good dad. You try to remind him.

warnings/tags: MDNI. pre/no-outbreak!joel miller. babysitter!reader. joel is in his 30s but sarah is a toddler because i said so. reader is in her last year of college; do with that what you will. sickening fluff. some borderline impure thoughts. self-depreciation. praise/comfort. intimacy. single girl dad!joel. overworked man finds solace in a sweet girl. not beta'd & hardly proofread. wc: 1.5k

main masterlist

His keys jingle in the door lock an hour after your shift was intended to end.

You don’t mind. You’re used to this routine by now. He still has the courtesy to text you that he’ll be running late, and he always pays a little extra for the additional hours. You’re only here for the summer, and every penny helps grow the savings fund you’ve been eagerly building before entering the less-than-reliable job market next year.

There is also the matter of your employer himself, and knowing that there are far more deplorable summer jobs than babysitting his sweet daughter.

You’re certain of it, in fact. Because you’ve never known a man quite like Joel Miller.

He’s the most hardworking person you’ve ever met, not only providing for his daughter and himself, but his brother. You’ve only seen Tommy a handful of times, and despite his flaws, Joel remains hopeful that his intervention will prompt a turnaround.

He signs Sarah up for anything and everything she’s willing to try, and somehow, finds a way to get her there on time. He fixes the panels on his elderly neighbor's roof before they’ve even noticed one is loose. Sometimes, he’ll snatch your keys off the counter when he gets home at a reasonable time and tells you to stay put while he fills up your tank because gas ain’t an expense you needa worry about right now.

He’s overworked, underpaid, and still finds it in himself to be kind.

You tuck your bookmark into the pages sprawled out across your lap, rising from the couch to greet him. Sarah’s been in bed since seven, and while Joel has made it clear you’re welcome to the fridge or the TV, you always hesitate to overstep.

You grab your tote off the armrest, slinging it over your shoulder and sliding your book inside before pattering towards the front hallway.

“Hey,” you call softly. He’s toeing off his boots and tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. He gives you a tired, apologetic smile.

“Hey,” he says, voice rough from a long day's work. The low vibration sends goosebumps up your arms which you nonchalantly rub away, hoping he won’t notice.

Joel Miller is also impeccably handsome. Another fine quality you’re certain he fails to notice.

“M’so sorry. I know it’s not fair of me to keep doin’ this to ya. The plumbing guys are not cooperatin’, so I—”

“Joel, it’s fine.” You take another step toward him, the golden porch light illuminating his features through the front window. You tilt your head at him, shrugging your shoulders. “I’ve got nowhere else to be. And besides, I love Sarah. She's such a good kid.”

You watch the rigidity in his shoulders fall, if only a little. He’s looking you over as if he’s the child, and he’s just been caught doing something he’s not supposed to. He shakes his head, muttering something discouraging under his breath. You have the great urge to soothe him.

The feeling is not new nor unfamiliar, but you’re tentative with the actions it threatens to elicit. A million grey lines begging to be crossed.

“Was hopin’ to be back in time to tuck her in,” he sighs, placing a hand on his hip while the other rubs at the tension in his brow. “Been too long since I have.”

You can’t help but smile. Not at the berating of himself or his clear display of stress, but because it’s endearing how much he cares. How blatant his love for his daughter is, whether she’s in the room or not.

“Well, I made sure to give her an extra kiss goodnight to make up for it.”

When he looks at you again, it’s with that same sort of sad, guilt-ridden smile. His appreciation for you cannot make up for the condemnation of himself, and while this would not be the first time Joel Miller confided in you about his shortcomings, you can sense tonight weighs heavier than most.

“Just feel like m’not… doin’ enough, I dunno.” His shoulders rise and fall defeatedly, and he’s shaking his head as if to further scold himself. “Worried she’s gonna grow up to resent me or somethin.’”

That strikes a nerve. You suffocate the strap of your bag with your grip, an attempt to redirect some of the outrage that fills you.

How could he even think such a thing? You know Joel’s a smart man, he can’t possibly be so blind to the things other children lack from their parents—none of which he ever falters on.

Your brows knit low over your eyes, serious. “She will not resent you, Joel. She adores you.” You make a point of emphasis; you want him to hear you, loud and clear. Know that there are things you see from the outside that he doesn’t, that a four-year-old may be far more perceptive than he gives her credit for.

“She talks about you all day,” you continue, and that seems to get his attention. Your heart aches at the tired, hopeful look in his eyes. You wish you could alleviate some of the exhaustion. “Everything we do is can’t wait to show Papa this, or we gotta tell Papa that.”

He chuckles a little, likely somewhat due to your poor impression of the toddler's voice, but you still aren’t convinced your words have sunk in.

You do something a bit uncharacteristic, then. You reach out, take another step forward, and place an honest hand on his forearm. The muscle below your touch is firm and warm, but his eyes that follow the path of your fingers are wildly more intense.

“You’re a good dad,” you tell him, voice dropping to a whisper. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

He blinks, and when he peers at you now, there’s a glint of something different. You’ve seen it before maybe a handful of times, but it’s always fleeting. A shared understanding that whatever it is, there’s never been any time to acknowledge it.

But this time, it lingers. It festers between your bodies that, only now, do you notice how close they have drifted in the already cramped entryway. Who shifted first, or when, matters very little with Joel’s eyes on you, gentle and focused. You see them flicker, once to your hand that still rests upon his skin, another to your eyes, and then your lips. There’s the sound of crickets in the night. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and dust. The sight of his face, all sharp edges and scattered freckles and a furrowed brow, but his eyes. In all the time you’ve know him, they’ve always remained kind.

Your breath catches in your throat when he finally leans in.

He doesn’t reach for you. Instead, he flushes his chest against yours and lets the weight of his lips drive the kiss. Your fingers dig into his forearm for purchase. You can’t say you’re caught off guard, though pleasantly surprised.

There’s an innocence to it, tender and sweet. He lingers for a few long beats, never pushing further than the plush of his lips delicately upon yours, and then releases.

You don’t open your eyes right away, selfishly idling in the newfound thrill a beat longer. You can still taste him—coffee, mint, something sweet. He remains close; you still feel the brush of his lips, the tip of his nose bumping yours, the fanning of his breath.

“M’sorry…” he starts to mutter, and you can tell he’s retracting. Your eyes fly open and your grip on him tightens.

“No, don’t be.”

You have difficulty finding any trace of guilt in his expression, a fact that turns your stomach. An anxious thrill, the precipice of something.

His tongue traces his bottom lip as if he’s trying to salvage another drop of you. A somewhat devious grin breaks out at the corners.

“Had to put it somewhere, I guess.”

You’re all soft chuckles and sheepish smiles after that, and you feel your cheeks heat up with an array of excitement and nervousness. It was one thing to endure Joel Miller and his charm without the prospect of more, but now?

You aren’t sure how you can possibly contain yourself.

A million questions rattle through your mind as you stare at one another, but you notice the time on the wall clock behind him. You’re no stranger to the bags under his eyes, the paleness on his cheeks after a long day, so you set your selfishness aside. After all, you’ll be back in this very spot in a handful of hours.

You swallow hard, slowly releasing his forearm, though your palm aches to remain.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He isn’t subtle about his hesitation. His eyes do an elongated once over of you before he shakes his head, and bites at his lower lip to prevent another laugh from escaping. You have half the mind to yank him back to you by the t-shirt, but digress when he steps around and opens the door for you.

You’re slow in your exit, doing a full one-eighty once your feet are planted on the porch to flash him one more dazzling smile.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

You see the dimples cave in his cheek before he quietly closes the door.

“Night, darlin’.”

You can’t seem to fall asleep fast enough.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction

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tourturestarradio · 4 months ago

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

“𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: Wolverine x kind reader x Deadpool

Warnings: suggestive, sexual jokes, spoilers (kinda? after the time stuff) injuries,

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You couldn’t remember the last time you talked with Wade, it’d been a while. Longer than normal. He’d come into your shop asking for sweets all the time it was nice talking to him he was pretty funny.

You met him after he basically saved you from a creep trying to attack you. After that he’d visit you at work getting a discount for saving you, you grown to like him a lot but it took a while for you to get out of your comfort zone.

With his very vulgar language, very….out there personality you grew close with him, Wade telling his friends about you any chance he got which lead to him introducing you to his friends making you insanely nervous.

The interaction was odd for them not you. There stared at you “…you’re Y/n?” A teenager with a long name asked, you nodded happily a friendly smile on your face. They glanced at you then at Wade then back at you “…if you were forced to be here blink twice”

You chuckled nervously but they seemed to be dead serious “I’m here on my own will, I promise” you clarified, Wade wrapped his arms around your shoulder “you think I forced her to be my friend! You hurt me” you glanced at him “will you kinda did-“ “alright let’s go meet Colossus!” He dragged you away from the moody teenager to continue to interact with his friends.

You thought back on the memory pouting missing your friend. You finished cleaning up your cafe about to leave when there was knock at the glass door, turning to look at it you saw a person standing their it looked like an older man.

You placed your bag down you grabbed your “baby knife” Wade gifted you, you didn’t like violence but after what happened last time you stayed out too late you slid it up your sleeve slowly unlocking and opening the door “hello do you need some help?” You asked.

The older man stumbled nodding “f-food please…” he almost fell onto you but you caught him “uh…um…okay just…just sit down please” you hummed carefully helping him sit down.

You went to get treats that no one had bought, usually you’d give that to Wade but he wasn’t here so you’d give it to the old man.

You turned to hand him the bag but he was standing up straight “um are you alright….sir?” Gripping onto the knife tighter you stepped closer to him, he chuckled lowly “to nice for your own good.” Before you knew it he jumped towards you.

You screamed in surprise pulling out your knife you stabbed him “ahh you bitch!” He fell back clutching him chest “I-I’m sorry!” You didn’t know what to do you felt bad for stabbing him but he was going to attack you.

He pulled the knife out standing up, bad choice you gulped knowing the outcome of this situation.

That night you went home with plenty of injuries and no money. Great. You had unlocked your front door going inside you flicked on the light “surprise! Welcome home honey bun-“ he froze in his spot.

He’d waited to surprise you when you got home. He thought you’d be in-static to see he was home from his thrilling mission and was going to tell you all about it but he was shocked to see you with a busted lip, black eye and bruises covering your face and arms.

“Oh my god what fuck!” He hurried up to you grabbing your shoulders “Wade nice to see you” you greeted, he was panicked but didn’t want to show it “how exactly can you see me? Looks like someone had a run in with Chris Brown, what happened” he joked.

You let out a dry chuckle “some jerk…I thought he needed…I thought he needed help but he was just trying to rob me. And he took my baby knife” Wade gasped “not the baby knife!”

As you went to get in the shower Wade clenched his fists “Honey bun I’ll be right back to tell you all about my adventure and the new friends I made!” He shouted into the bathroom earning a “alright” from you.

Leaving your house he went into his apartment slamming open his door gaining a odd look from the rest of the group.

Logan raised a brow “what’s your deal?” Wade grabbed his swords and guns “some tiny dick loser attacked my friend” Logan stared at him with his usual annoyed face “so?” Wade stopped at the door looking back “so? That girl is one of if not the nicest and hottest person on the planet and some dickwad attacked her!” He turned and left the apartment slamming the door.

“Who’s he talking about?” He asked Colossus got up “one of his close friends Y/n, she’s very important to him” he stated Logan was just confused but didn’t really care.

After a few hours Wade had returned dropping his weapons down at the floor “handled that, I feel so much better” he hummed, Logan glanced at him “you killed the guy didn’t you?” He asked. Wade smiled “yeah duh if you knew Honey hun like I knew her you’d do the same, well actually!” An idea popped into his head.

“Whatever your thinking. Don’t think it.” Wade laughed “oh come on you’ll love her! Not as much as the reader loves us but still” Logan looked at him confused “what?” “Oh come on peanut!”

“If I go will you shut the fuck up?” Wade smiled leaving the apartment “no promises!” Logan rolled his eyes and followed.

Wade knocked on the door “Honey bun! I’m back and I’ve brought a friend!” He continued to knock until the door opened revealing you now patched up and holding a ice pack up to your eye.

“Oh hi Wade, hello Wade’s friend” You smiled politely moving out of the way to let Wade and his friend in “I’m not his friend.” You shut the door “oh well what’s your name? I’m Y/n nice…nice to meet you” you greeted.

He stared down at you, he wasn’t to fond of physical contact and if he was touching someone it was usually stabbing punching slicing. But he grabbed your hand shaking it before letting go quickly “Logan.” He stated, You smiled at him “nice to meet you Logan- wait like Wolverine Logan!” You wanted to scream.

Wade watched as you hurried to your room, “she was a big fan of the X men Wolverine was her favorite you’d be surprised at the amount of edits she and probably the reader has saved on Tik tok”

Logan looked at Wade confused “you wouldn’t get it, I never had the guts to tell her he died. I mean look at her” you hurried out of your room holding an X men comic “if…if you don’t mind could you sign this…please…” you gulped nervously.

Wade leaned over “come on, look how excited she is, kinda like how I was seeing her naked for the first time” Logan scoffed “shut it. Look I’m not that Wolverine…” he huffed, that look of excitement faded from your face almost made him a little sad.

“Oh…wait I’m confused…” Wade held your shoulders “time to tell you all about my adventure!” He pushed you over to your couch.

After telling you about everything that happened you sat with a frown “so the Wolverine from our world is gone…” Wade nodded “yep but yaknow Hugh jackmen just couldn’t get enough of this roll so now he’s alive again.”

You glanced at Logan “so you’re still Wolverine…just from a different world…?” He nodded “that’s still so cool!” You stated excitedly, Logan looked at you a little surprised by how enthusiastic you were.

But he knew how this would turn out, he’s not gonna engage. You seemed like a sweet girl but he knows how this goes so he wasn’t going to even try.

“Yeah I’m not all that great.” He huffed, you lightly nudged him a playful tone “well you still saved the world, and you’re still cool to me” you hummed, Wade’s smile widened “Honey bun” he called out, you looked at him “you got any cookies?” You nodded “sure I’ll go get some.”

You got up leaving the two “see what did I tell you, she’s amazing!” Logan rolled his eyes “fuck off” he grumbled, Wade laughed “ha! You know I’m right! She’s perfect in literally every way!” Logan huffed crossing his arms.

You came back holding a plate of cookies Wade pulled you down onto his lap grabbing a cookie shoving it into his mouth.

You gulped “so um…can I….can I see your claws?” You asked nervously shuffling Wade held you still “no shuffling too much I haven’t got some in a while and the head downstairs misses you” you ignored his comment an stayed focused on Logan.

He held up his hand you lightly touched in between his knuckles feeling his claws under his skin “cool…” you muttered. He wouldn’t tell you but your reactions were somewhat cute.

He clenched his fist his claws coming out a cheesy grin grew on your face as you hit Wades arm ��look, look” a small laugh exiting your mouth “trust me babe I’ve seen them and felt them inside me multiple times” Logan glared at him “don’t word it like that.”

Wade shoved another cookie in his mouth “don’t deny what we had!” You touched his blades “cool” he retracted them “well at least I can die happy” you joked.

Wade wrapped his arms around you squeezing you tightly “I won’t let that happen!”

Logan looked at you and how nice you were, maybe you weren’t so bad after all…

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I fucking loved Deadpool 3!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHH

#deadpool x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #x men #wade wilson x reader #marvel x reader #james howlett #fem reader

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yunwangja · 5 months ago

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touch - tobio kageyama oneshot

kageyama feels jealous as he notices that the other karasuno members can be physically affectionate with you while he struggles to do the same, thanks to your hesitation whenever he tries to get close.

genre: slight drama? romantic angst? its kageyama being frustrated so ig yeah, also eventual fluff

tags: kageyama x fem!reader, high school friends to lovers

warnings/notes: swearing, honestly that's it lol. also THIS IS MY FIRST TIME SORRY IF ITS LACKING /,,,,: i tried my best for them to be in character too so if not mb >< also approx. 1.2k words

kageyama’s thoughts had been swirling lately, a tumult of confusion and frustration. and it was all because of you.

he found himself watching you more often than he cared to admit, noticing every smile exchanged, every casual touch with other members of the volleyball team that seemed effortless. midterms and practices passed in a blur, overshadowed by his own internal questioning.

why did he feel like you were avoiding him so subtly? why did simple interactions feel like navigating a minefield? happenings from days ago has been haunting him, your subtle movements away from him echoing in his mind.

he wanted to be closer to you, and understand why you seemed so distant whenever he tries to. only thing was: he’s bad at this. he’s bad at expressing his feelings and making a mess of himself, especially in front of you. how could he do this so naturally when you keep on backing away?

"y/n-chan! you’re here!" hinata exclaimed joyfully, bounding over to greet you. oh right, i’m in practice. kageyama thought and snapped back to reality, mainly because of hinata’s loud announcement of your arrival, and well, because, it’s you.

his head snapped towards the gym entrance, catching your smile as you exchanged greetings with hinata.

"how was midterms?" sugawara approached you and asked kindly, prompting a hesitant response from you, "uh, they were fine, i think. hehe." the third year patted your head comfortingly, "i'm sure you did great."

kageyama's chest tightened slightly at the gesture, his irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior as he focused on his serves.

"wow, tobio, you're as consistent as ever," daichi commented seeing his performance, with asahi nodding in agreement. you managed to wave to kageyama from beside yachi, and he nodded in acknowledgment before returning to his practice.

practice officially began with a three-on-three match: tanaka, sugawara, and asahi against hinata, kageyama, and tsukishima. you stood near tanaka's team and cheered enthusiastically as he spiked, "nice kill, tanaka-senpai!"

tanaka grinned proudly and threw an arm around your shoulders, basking in your praise. “it’s nothing, y/n!”

kageyama's frustration flared again. why can't i do that too? kageyama wondered silently.

he decides to lash it out on tsukishima, pushing him to block their spikes better - to which the tall teammate responded with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

it all started a few days ago - you were having lunch on the rooftop with hinata and kageyama. hinata was engrossed in his own thoughts, while kageyama had this plan to subtly get closer to you, unsure and hesitant about being too forward. he wasn't particularly skilled at these things.

as kageyama inched closer, you immediately noticed and instinctively pulled back a bit, nervously remarking, "oh, is the sun shining on your side?" even though the weather was perfect and there was no sunlight. kageyama glanced down and replied, "uh, no... yeah, thanks. you didn't have to move unless it's cramped for you."

"no, as long as you have enough space," you awkwardly chuckled, trying to ease the panic you felt and continued eating.

kageyama sighed inwardly, contemplating another approach. he just wanted to be more gentle and affectionate towards you, just like the others do. hell, maybe, more than they do.

while you were sipping your beverage, you happened to try blueberry-flavored milk for the first time. "this is an interesting flavor," you remarked.

"really? what brand is it?" kageyama asked, attempting to hold your hand with the milk carton while leaning closer to you, making his face close to yours.

once again, you panic and quickly hand him the carton instead, "i-i don't know. you can check it yourself." you stood up to gather your things, suggesting, "let's go now," with hinata obediently following. he urged kageyama to hurry up as he remained on the floor with the now-empty blueberry milk carton.

from that moment, thoughts began to swirl in kageyama's mind—why did you keep avoiding him? was he making you uncomfortable? did you not like being close to him? was he being too much?

walking back to your classrooms, kageyama was stopped in his thoughts when he noticed hinata subtly linking his arm with yours. "y/n-chan! look!" hinata excitedly pointed out a stall being set up outside the window for the upcoming school festival.

you squealed with excitement and both of you jumped up and down, holding hands. kageyama couldn't help but notice the contrast—why was it okay for hinata to touch you like this, but not him? was he doing something wrong? did you dislike him?

"aren't you excited, kageyama?" hinata's question pulled him back from his thoughts. he quickly masked his inner turmoil and casually walked past both of you, muttering, "i don't care", making hinata complain about his lack of school spirit, while you just giggled in response.

back in the present, you continued cheering for tanaka's team after your interaction with him, prompting hinata to playfully pout, "y/n-chan, cheer for us too!"

you laughed and nodded, encouraging everyone with a big smile. “do your best too, hinata! tsukishima, kageyama!” kageyama would normally be melting inside, but today his mind was all over the place, frustrated. this drove him to be set on winning.

i don’t need to be close to you. i don’t even need your cheers. he resolved silently (and pettily), i'll prove it. and he did.

as practice ended with his team's victory, everyone dispersed, leaving you and kageyama, since you were walking in the same direction. "thanks for your hard work," you greeted him cheerfully, but he merely nodded, avoiding eye contact.

trying to engage him in conversation, you remarked on his performance, but kageyama's responses remained curt. "you were really cool as always, but you seemed even more fired up today after seeing tanaka-senpai’s spike," you commented lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"you're so petty," you teased with a giggle, but kageyama stayed silent, lost in his thoughts.

as you walked and chatted animatedly about a recent volleyball match, a bicycle approached unnoticed.

just in time, kageyama noticed and instinctively pulled you closer, holding your hand to prevent you from getting hurt. flustered by his sudden action—and the fact that he was holding your hand—you looked at him in surprise.

"watch where you're going," kageyama said gruffly, his hands holding yours intensely. you awkwardly laughed off the situation, "i'm sorry. thanks though!"

glancing at your hands still together, you attempted to pull away. “you can let go now,” you try to smile.

there you go again, he thinks. he’s been experiencing this from you for days and it’s been pissing him off. he’s had enough.

kageyama held on to his grip on yours. "no," he said firmly and looked ahead. confused, "what? it’s fine, really, you don’t have to hold my hand,” you try to assure him and continued to let go of his hand.

his expression softened slightly as he slowly looked at you, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual tough exterior. "why, can't i hold your hand?" he questioned, his voice quieter but determined.

you were taken aback by his question. where is this coming from? you never really noticed anything unusual about his behavior—at least, not that you were aware of.

you try to stay calm for now. "what do you mean? of course you can, but there's no need to anymo—"

"that's a lie. you don't even let me touch you." he maintains eye contact with you. you can't quite grasp what he means yet, but despite the firmness in his voice, his eyes seem to be pleading, as if he's waiting for something.

"do i make you uncomfortable, y/n?" he asks while you're still processing the situation. you shake your head. "no, not at all."

"then why can't i hold your hand?" he continues. "you let the other members do it all the time, especially hinata. why do you treat me so differently?"

shit.

technically, you know why you were acting this way. you just never thought that this was something kageyama would even think or care about, so you just behaved this way naturally.

"i…" nothing else comes out. at this point, you and kageyama are having a staring contest. you want to go home—you’re nervous as hell—but he’s looking at you like he won’t leave until you answer him. "where is this coming from, kageyama?"

"hinata links arms with you, holds hands with you. sugawara-senpai pats your head all the time. tanaka-senpai has a habit of putting his arm around you whenever you compliment him—all of them get to touch you like that, and you don’t even care. but i just come and sit closer to you, and you back away already?"

honestly, you are amazed at how he remembers your interactions with the other members. to you, what they did was nothing to think about, but kageyama noticed every detail.

you knew kageyama—well, at least this trait of his; the fact that he is actually opening up about this means it has bothered him for quite some time. it dumbfounds you that these "small" things to you actually mattered to him—a lot, maybe even more than you realize.

you look down at the ground, breaking eye contact. "y/n—"

"you are right, kageyama, it is different."

"because i don't care if the others do it to me," you say, lifting your gaze back to him, a sense of vulnerability in your eyes this time. "but i care when you do."

you see the surprise on his face. "too much that it could kill me, honestly." he looks bewildered. "w-what? i don't understand."

"unlike the others, i…" your cheeks flush, and your eyes linger somewhere else again as you brace yourself for what you're about to say. "i want you to touch me."

this shocks kageyama, but leaves him wanting more answers.

"i want you to be close to me like that so badly, but it’s too much—it feels selfish. i mean, it’s not like you’re going to benefit much from that. it's all just for myself. i bet you don't want to do that, so i purposely avoided physical contact with you."

there was a few seconds of silence before he could even respond to that. "idiot," he whispers while keeping his head down, but loud enough for you to hear. you look at him, quite embarrassed that you just lowkey confessed to him, and now he's calling you an idiot. he takes a breath and closes his eyes. "why? i just answered you—"

"i want to!" he shouts, his voice rising sharply.

now, you both keep surprising each other.

"i'm not complaining here just because i think you treat me differently from them! hell, i couldn't care any less if it was anyone else. but it's you, y/n."

"i'm frustrated because i want to touch you like that too!"

he looks away, feeling shy. "i want to hold your hand and pat your head when i want to. i want to stand and sit close to you so i can feel you beside me. i want to be able to hug you when i score a point during a match," he pauses, "although i don't think you're allowed on the bench during a match—but that's not the point!"

he looks so cute, but this is also all new to you. you don't know how to feel about his confession. you don't know if this literally means he likes you (which you do too), but one thing is for sure.

you weren't being selfish after all.

"so, please, y/n…"

"let me. and don't avoid me," he says. "it hurts when you do, you know."

your eyes fill with concern. you take a few seconds before speaking again, "kageyama."

he looks at you shyly. "what?"

you respond by grabbing his hand, intertwining it with yours. "okay."

he looks down to see your hands together, and his face turns bright red. "you can hold my hand." he looks up to see your smiling face.

"i'm sorry for avoiding you like that. i thought you really didn't mind. and cared. thank you for telling me what you felt," you apologize.

he shakes his head. "no, you did nothing wrong. and i'm not actually mad, you know…"

"i was just frustrated. i'm sorry i kind of shouted just now."

you shake your head and start to walk again, letting your linked hands guide him as well. "no, no. i know. i'm even glad you let it all out. that's a big step, in my opinion, after knowing you these past months," you say.

he looks at you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. it's as if he didn't expect you to notice. you didn't show any trace of anger or hurt after how he acted just now—you even cared about what he felt. his expression softens, a mix of amazement and shy delight flickering across his face and looks away again. "well, that's what i'm trying to learn these days."

"that's good," you give him what he thinks is the sweetest smile.

you both continue walking hand-in-hand towards the street corner where you usually part ways—kageyama takes the bus while you head in the other direction to the train station. after your intense and revealing conversation, the rest of the walk is quiet.

"y/n," he breaks the silence, and you look at him, urging him to say what he wants.

"uh, you know," he looks shy again, scratching the back of his head.

"what is it?" you ask.

"i'm just saying this to put it out there, but…" he squirms, "you can call me by my first name if you want to."

you are taken aback first by what he says. after absorbing his words, you laugh, and he continues to blush.

"all right, tobio."

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #tobio kageyama #kageyama tobio #tobio x reader #kageyama x reader

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