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The Favor 12
It’s been 800 years and I’m sorry 😭 now that we reached this point inspo has come and gone so fast. But I got this part done and the next one on Patreon now! I would love to hear thoughts and suggestions, I’ve already implemented some of what you guys have asked for in my planned parts 🩷 enjoy! And happy holidays
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WC- 6.6k
Warnings- mentions of a Dom/sub dynamic, anxiety mention, misogyny, we hate Danny club tee shirts being passed around, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of relationship trauma
Danny hadn��t always been a bad boyfriend.
At first he had been kind and sweet. With him being a tad bit more outgoing than Y/N, he had brought her into his friend group and integrated her as one of them. He had brought her flowers for their 6 month anniversary, they went on dates on the weekends twice a month, and it was nice. Solid, steady.
Until he got a little too comfortable.
Y/N could see it now that she had removed her heart from the equation. Danny was lazy, and it had shown more and more as the year mark hit, and then two years, and she had to remind him of Valentine’s Day, make the birthday plans, schedule the dates, or go along with the plans he’d made with his friends. He would get her gifts on those occasions, yes, but the most stereotypical things. It had lacked thought. Flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day were nice! She didn’t want to come across as ungrateful ever- but when he’d gotten her dark chocolate when he should have known she really disliked it, it made it a little less sweet- pun intended.
If someone were to ask Y/N why she stayed so long, she wouldn’t have one singular answer. Comfort? Familiarity? Routine? Perhaps lack of self esteem? She wasn’t sure. Being raised to think you had a specific way of doing things, of dating, engagement, then marriage, she hadn’t really been given many other examples. Growing up, her parents had been high school sweethearts, as had both of their parents. There was no breaking up, it was a one and done type of deal.
She wasn’t sure if that was set in stone, though. It was an unspoken rule, something left unsaid like a thinly veiled threat in the night air. They spoke of the great love story of finding your one and only and it made her feel like she had to stick to that too. She’d never asked her mother about it, because she never really entertained the idea of having any other partner.
It was easy with Danny in the way that she knew what to expect. She knew his habits, she knew his work, his schedule. She knew his friends, his plans for life, there were no surprises. Nothing that would jump back out and bite her, catch her off guard as he slowly leaned into being less attentive.&
Maybe that’s why even when she started having doubts she had stuck them to the back of her mind.
There was no denying that Harry had been a very, very big part in all of it. The funny part of it was, she wasn’t sure that the sex bit was what truly got her to reconsider even if it had started it all. As incredible, euphoric as she felt- it was the way she felt afterwards. Before, even. When they sat in his bed and he stroked her cheek, feeding her cubes of cantaloupe or strawberries sliced in half, or when he’d picked up a carton of her yogurt and granola after mentioning what she usually had for breakfast at home.
It was how gentle he handled her not only physically, but emotionally. He checked in, he cared, he asked her multiple times what she liked and what she didn’t. If it was okay to touch her certain ways, if he could kiss her. Just little things that seemed so minuscule in size if you looked at it from the outside but felt so big to her that it tore at her heart.
He’d gotten her that damn water bottle, he’d gotten used to washing her hair when they shared showered, he used that tender tone of voice that had her bones feeling flexible as she melded into him each and every time.
And another thing she had found to like about Harry, was the fact that he was just… dominant in most regards.
It wasn’t overly so. He wasn’t this complete alpha, macho man, fists banging on the chest sort of guy. He didn’t walk into the room and demand to be the biggest and baddest in the room. It was understated, quiet. If you looked at him you could just… see. Feel it. You could see he held it together well, that he liked control in the way he kept things organized and held eye contact regardless of who it was. He very rarely shied away from a situation. In fact, Y/N felt very special for being one of the only people she had seen make him blush or get flustered.
It was second nature to him to just do. To pick up where she left off. So it did make her wonder what else she could do for him. How she could help him relieve stress. Yes, there was the sexual aspect that she was more than willing to hand over whenever he wanted (no exaggeration- any time, any place) but she wanted to be the person he allowed himself to loosen up with.
She’d seen glimpses. Silliness and joking, that sort of tenderness that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else, but she wanted to make his life easier. Researching the dynamics between dominants and submissives, she had some questions- but the first thing she needed to do was cut off the dead weight- the only thing holding them back.
—-
Meeting at the park was a good idea. She could tell by his face that he had a clue what was going to happen and as much as she tried not to, she did feel a tiny sliver of guilt.
Y/N didn’t necessarily cheat, no. She’d had full permission, ecstatic permission, actually. He’d handed her over to Harry. Being realistic she knew he didn’t realize it would be an option that he wouldn’t get her back. Danny was headstrong in a way she found a lot of men were. He didn’t consider the possibility that she actually did know what she wanted and once she had a taste, she would want that for herself all the time.
“You’re leaving me for him.”
“Not necessarily.” She sighed, crossing her arms around her body. “It isn’t just about him. It’s about the fact that we aren’t compatible anymore, and we haven’t been in a long time.”
Danny scoffed, tilting his head towards the sky. “So, what? I’m nice? I let you go and see and play around to explore that shit and now you’ve gotten addicted to that sort of stuff? We can get you to therapy, because it isn’t healthy. But obviously it was a mistake to hand you off to him-“
“Yes. If you loved me, if you truly wanted me, Daniel- you’d never, ever want someone else to touch me.” She remembered how Harry had said he didn’t want to share her. Look, sure. But never touch. “You said the shit I’m into is weird, you shame me, then pawn me off to your friend which… it’s dangerous. The both of us are lucky Harry is genuinely an amazing guy-“ she shot him a look as he let out a noise but continued anyways. “Harry is amazing and kept me safe. He taught me the safe ways of doing things. And I liked it. I’m not going to lie to you, I really liked all of it and I know you aren’t into it.” For once, her face softened.
“And you don’t have to be. I don’t judge you for not wanting to do it. I never have. I was upset by your reactions and how you made me feel bad, but I would never ask you to do something you truly aren’t comfortable with. But if this is something I want, something I find myself needing to be fulfilled, I’m not going to try to change you or myself to try and salvage a relationship that was barely working anyways.”
“Barely working?” Danny looked genuinely confused. “The fuck are you talking about.” Again, her anger bubbled under the surface, but the exhaustion of the whole thing kept her from exploding.
“Danny, you barely gave me attention. When you apologized the first time and we went out to the bar, you brushed me off the whole time. You treated me like an accessory. There was no passion to our relationship.” Y/N wasn’t sure how he didn’t see that. “We had the same conversations every day, barely had any excitement. I don’t think you loved me- I think I was convenient. And I don’t hold that against you either, but I think I was convenient to you.”
“That’s just how relationships are! They even out and get a little boring.” He defended, nostrils flaring as he was obviously offended with her observation. She had a feeling he would get that way. It was just another reason why they needed to end things.
“To a degree. After years of marriage and things settle down, your partner is supposed to become your best friend. And we barely speak to each other if it isn’t about plans, or something you want to. If I feel like talking about something I can physically see you tune me out. This was happening far before you even handed me off to Harry.”
“And he’s going to give you that?” He sneered, looking at her like she was some sort of idiot. It had been very clear since the beginning that Danny really did put people into boxes, and Harry was in the sexual deviant one. He had no ability to see the depth in people and that had always been something that bothered her about him, but seeing it now towards someone she was falling for made her angry.
“I don’t know.” She snapped. “But regardless if it is him or not, you need to stop that. You just… you learn something about someone and you completely disregard them as people. You knew he was into some different stuff and all of a sudden he’s a whore, some kind of sexual deviant that can’t commit. He’s had partners, long term. He’s caring. He’s kind. He listens to what I have to say. It isn’t just sex every time I go over to his place, you understand that right?”
He didn’t, obviously, but the way his brows pulled together and he looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Did you expect him to string me up and hit me with a paddle a few times and me to run back to you?” She was positive that was the thought process as it was as soon as she saw the face he made. “We bond. We make breakfast or go out for it, we watch shows, we take his dog on a walk- the dynamic of this whole thing goes far past just sex, Danny. It’s trust. I know you did minimal research into what this actually is, but I’m telling you that we weren’t just going at it like bunnies. I’m not hypnotized by his dick. He’s so nice to me, and he listens, and he….” Y/N could feel herself getting emotional, so she had to reign it in. He didn’t need this sort of response from her.
“Listen. I’m sorry. I know we had plans, but they’re not for me anymore. I have no idea if Harry wants to actually date me or not. I have no clue where my life is going, but I just don’t see us being together anymore.”
——
It was a bit anticlimactic. Danny couldn’t really argue with her, (even if he did try a few times). Not when it was so abundantly clear her mind was made up. It was over. Regardless of what he thought about Harry or her sexual preferences or anything she liked, it was her opinion that mattered. She’d been coasting for so long that she had forgotten how it felt to actually be behind the wheel. As terrifying as it was to navigate- it felt good.
“A mixed box, please.” Y/N politely asked the worker at the donut shop, knowing Harry was a bit of a fiend for a donut with his coffee. “An extra chocolate though, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course! Half or whole dozen?”
“Whole, please.”
She checked her phone to see a text waiting from him, her mood lightening immediately as her eyes traced over the screen.
H: You alright, sweetheart? Please text me when you’re on your way here x.
H: p.s. I miss you a little.
Her heart felt like it grew too big for her chest as she took a shaky inhale, thumbing over the keyboard to reply to the man. It had been ages since she had gotten giddy over a man texting her, Harry being the first one since she’d left school honestly. It wasn’t that she wanted to constantly compare her past relationship with him, but it was hard not to when everything felt so much better.
Y/N: hiiii ❤️ I’m good. I made a stop but as soon as I’m done here I’ll be on my way. Maybe 20?
Y/N: p.s. I miss you a little bit too
Tucking her phone back in her pocket, she thanked the girl and checked out at the register, tapping her card before taking the box and walking back out to her car.
She was a single woman, now. Sort of? That was sort of a mystery. She was Harry’s. The fact was clear both in her heart and the bruises sucked over the swell of her breast, also coincidentally over her heart. The question laid in his hands, if they were an actual item or not. He’d proclaimed she was his what seemed to be a million times but how far did that go?
It wasn’t like she was dumb- she knew there were feelings in both ends. Men didn’t act like that unless they were actually wanting you. She knew she wasn’t completely naive for feeling somewhat confident that Harry would want her, but it was the question of in what way. As a submissive? As a girlfriend? That question would be asked tonight, but right now she really just needed a hug.
There was no need to knock anymore as she scales the porch steps and approached the door, instead punching in the code to his security system and pushing the door open. The clicking of nails alerted her to Buttons before she even saw the pup, eagerly running towards her with a happy yip.
“Hello, my darling.” She cooed, hanging her purse up on the hook and toed her shoes off. “These are not for you, M’sorry. We can get you a treat though. Where’s daddy, hm?”
“Kitchen!” He called through the house, making her smile widen. She could smell coffee, the dark roast permeating the air as she padded towards the room. It was one of the best times of day to be in the room, sunlight pouring through the wide windows. Even better to frame him as he leaned against the island, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
He was always beautiful, but seeing him in this light- literally and metaphorically- had her tummy swirling. His hair fluffy from the shower this morning and pushed off his head, the facial hair he had let grow because she said she liked it, the tee shirt tucked into linen pants, all of it was enticing. It felt more intense now that there was no real barrier holding her back from allowing her to think those sorts of things about him.
“Excuse me, miss? What’s in that box?” His voice tilted as his smile grew, looking at the familiar pink box.
“You know what’s in the box.” She hummed, placing it down next to him. “It’s where I stopped. I’m sorry to say I broke into them and ate a chocolate one on the drive here, but there’s 11 others in there for you to choose from.”
“How will I ever forgive you.” His eyes rolled as he uncrossed his arms and pulled her into them, seeming to know what she needed before she could even utter a word about it. He knew what she went to do and while it was exciting, he knew she had been slightly anxious about the reaction. “You alright, darling? Seriously?”
Y/N wasn’t sure if it was being in the safety of his arms and realizing that he was the only one she felt this safe with, if it was the slight exhaustion from not being able to sleep well, or the emotion of letting go of something that had once felt like her life, but she felt the wall hit her. Nodding into his chest, she stayed buried there as the tears bubbled over her lashline.
“Oh, Angel. M’sorry. That’s a dumb question.”’he sighed, curling his hand around the back of her head and gently running his fingers through her hair. “I know. S’been a lot, the last few weeks. But you’re safe here, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it, or we can. It’s up to you.”
She knew he did want to. He wouldn’t press her because he was a good man and he was considerate of her feelings, but he wanted to know what happened and considering the entirety of this, she wanted to. It just… needed to be in a minute. Arms wrapped around his form as she took in unsteady breaths, trying to calm herself down. It was easier said than done when he felt like the lifeline now, but she didn’t want to cry over it.
“We can.” She gave a watery laugh as she turned her cheek to rest on him, letting herself breathe properly instead of keeping herself shoved against his body. “I’m not upset because we broke up. I-I don’t really care about that, actually. I’m glad. He didn’t take it well but he also didn’t throw a tantrum. It just upset me because I was seeing him for one of the first times as who he was instead of m-making excuses and I felt a little dumb for staying for so long.” It was embarrassing.
Harry knew she wasn’t done so he didn’t interrupt, continuing the soothing strokes as she stayed leaning against him. “He puts people in boxes. Like he… he thought you were one dimensional and so was I. Thought that I didn’t actually know what I w-wanted, and that we were just fucking this whole time. Couldn’t believe that we were actually bonding and that you could possibly like me, or vice versa, outside a bedroom.” Her scoff made him chuckle just a bit, leaning his head down to kiss the top of hers, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.
“And it really hit me how he couldn’t fathom that you have feelings that go past sexual deviancy or that I actually know what I want and I wasn’t just addicted to sex or something. Did you know he used to get me chocolates for Valentine’s Day but he’d get dark, and I hate dark chocolate.” She sniffled. “Or he’d make me plan stuff because I was ‘better’ at it. I just felt in charge of everything except plans with his friends, unless it had to do with getting a gift for a wedding or baby shower or birthday. Then I could handle it because… I don’t know. I was leading the whole thing and I wasn’t getting anything in return and I’m just now realizing how shitty I felt the whole time. I think I just coasted the whole time b-because my family did the whole high school or college sweetheart things and I felt like I needed to, too.”
It made a lot of sense to him, now, why she felt she needed this. The dynamic. Naturally submissive, he knew, but being forced to take the role that she didn’t want for the sake of a relationship she was trying to keep afloat merely because she felt a responsibility? His poor fucking girl.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing you want to hear and it won’t make it better, but I’m sorry. It hurt you, it made you feel under appreciated and taken for granted. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
It wouldn’t make a difference now but he wished he had met her first. Met her before Danny had gotten to her and been able to snatch her up, give her the sort of attention she properly needed, take care of her the way she had always been craving. For someone who didn’t naturally have that sort of instinct he had to imagine it was exhausting. Harry took pride in being the planner, the provider. He liked being in charge and knowing what was happening, making things easy and smooth. But for Y/N who already didn’t want to be doing it, he knew it had to have felt like she was trapped.
“M’never going to make you do those things.” He murmured. “Not if you don’t want to. I don’t… it isn’t something that I’d ever want you to do if you didn’t want to. There is no right or wrong way to have a relationship, but the burden shouldn’t fall on only one person if they don’t want it to.” He smeared his lips in a ring of kisses around her hairline. “I know you don’t need me t’tell you that how you were treated wasn’t right, but I hope you know that you can tell me if you ever feel that way. If you… if you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to.” There was a pause. “When we’re not playing.”
“I was gonna hold you to that.” She laughed against him, pulling her head back to look at him. “So, um.. I didn’t want to assume anything, but I’m gonna now and think that you want to.. that you like me enough to keep me around?”
Harry looked at her for a few moments before shutting his eyes, dropping his head to rest on hers. “If I hadn’t made it clear before, I think M’gonna make it even clearer now.”
Y/N didn’t have a chance to breathe before he scooped her up to sit her in the counter, their lips fused together in a kiss she hadn’t fully felt before. Something he had held back, it lingered under it all as she easily melted into him. It felt different, like a barrier had fallen off with the way he handled her. It was still delicate, still tender, but there was no hint of hesitancy in the way he led the kisses, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face in those massive hands she loved so much. Unhurried, unrestrained but no sense of urgency.
Like he knew now he didn’t have to rush, that he had more time to prove to her that he meant every unspoken word he poured into this.
The slight salt of her tears reminded him to pull back, to pace himself. Oddly enough, he had no urge to have sex right now. Everything was soft. Silky. Lovelaced and sweet, hinted with the motivation to give her the relationship that she deserved. It meant he’d have to ask her what she would want, but right now he just wanted to bask in the feeling of her in his palms and the warm sun and sugary donuts in the box and the strong coffee finishing its brew across the kitchen.
“Hi.” He smiled lightly as he pulled back, eyes hooded as he watched hers peel open to meet his own. Her lips were bare of anything but chapstick he had faint taste of- strawberry, he was positive of it- and slightly puffy from the kiss that had gone on for a bit longer than they should have been able to breathe.
“Hi.” Her voice was a peep as the shyness took over her face, but Harry didn’t let her move from it. As much as she wanted to burrow back into his chest, he kept her chin up. The energy was palpable, giddiness rocking his belly as he tugged her lip from her teeth. No biting of lips near him, not right now. Even if it was cute.
There was a lot to speak about in regards to them as a pairing, but he wanted to soak in this warmth for a bit before getting down to the gritty bit of it. The girl had brought him his favorite sweets, and he wanted to enjoy them with her.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“Tea, please.”
—
Harry hadn’t been positive Y/N would go through with it.
That wasn’t a fault or doubt of her person, not at all. But he knew that she really didn’t like hurting people. That much had been something he’d learned very early on in knowing her. She had been mindful of Danny’s feelings the whole time, trying not to flaunt any of it in his face and not giving details unless he asked- which he hardly did.
They’d not really gotten any sort of response about what they’d done in front of him but Harry knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it because he would be too ashamed to admit it. He wasn’t shocked, though, when he got text messages during the day while Y/N slept soundly on his lap while watching a movie as Harry worked on his phone. She never could stay awake when the movie turned on and he played with her hair. One hand had been gently massaging her scalp while the other typed on his screen when the message popped up on his screen.
D: I don’t know what the fuck you did to her but I hope you’re happy. I trusted you with her, man. And you fucking stole her. She was mine. That shit you’re into is disgusting and you’ve brainwashed her or something, it’s fucked up.
Harry almost laughed at the message until he remembered what Y/N had been so upset about. The fact she hadn’t been seen as a person with her own emotions and feelings during the duration of the relationship had hit her. It may have started out good but it ended badly when she realized that he didn’t think she could choose what she liked. This was a prime example of it.
HS: I get being upset, but I didn’t steal her. She isn’t property. She’s capable of making her own decisions and you texting me something like that proves you don’t trust her judgment yet again. I’ll do my best to make her happy, I care about her more than you can fathom.
HS: I won’t be by any group gatherings, so don’t worry about that. Bye.
Harry muted the conversation.
It really wasn’t something he needed to talk to about with him anymore. He wasn’t sorry, he didn’t regret anything, he didn’t think what they did was fucked up. He could go back and forth about how Danny had been the one to hand over his girlfriend and push her right into Harry’s arms but at what cost? Why would he bother?
She was curled in his lap, head on his thighs with soft breaths puffing against his shirt. Buttons laid at his dog bed near the fireplace and he felt that happiness bubble up in his stomach again. This was what he wanted.
The dominant and submissive dynamic was something he loved and he enjoyed, absolutely. But the base level of his desires was wanting a real relationship with this before all the rest of it fell into place. Happiness at the most base level, trust, peace. Finding the delicate balance.
His eyes traced over her features as his mind wandered a bit. Was a full dynamic what she wanted? Was she looking for commitment right off the bat? Or did she need a little breathing room?
That didn’t seem as likely considering how she’d come right back home to him.
The knowledge that she didn’t have anything holding her back was something that pleased him endlessly. He didn’t have to worry about stepping on toes. While they hadn’t expressed out loud that they wanted to be in a full and committed relationship, he knew she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be.
If he was honest with himself, he knew that an emotional affair had played a part in it. The both of them had been feeling things for each other for a bit, at least for him it had been a while. Y/N had poured her trust into him and he had taken that very seriously. He’d done his best to keep himself in check but now he really didn’t have to.
It was astounding how fast emotions could form, how feelings could grow from a seedling planted in the pit of his belly to a full bloom that burst through his chest. She’d made a garden inside of him and he wanted her to see just how beautiful it could be, if she gave him the chance. A real one.
Harry the dominant was one part of him but it wasn’t the whole part. He was a fully fleshed out human with faults. He was picky about keeping his house clean, he could be a bit pushy sometimes, he tended to isolate when he was upset about something. There was hints of insecurity and possessiveness in his personality, jealousy. God, he was a pathetically jealous person even if he tried to keep it under wraps. These were things she hadn’t exactly gotten to see, even if there were glimpses here and there. The underlying anxiety was there and prevalent that maybe she’d see those parts and not like him as much.
The reminder that Y/N wasn’t that cruel circled back around and called him some, smiling as he felt her stir and scoot closer to him. Her nose nuzzled into his stomach, slow breathing evening out as she got comfortable again pressed up against him. The reminder that she also had faults that he hadn’t exactly seen yet was a comfort. He doubted that anything would truly scare him away, though. The obsession was already in place.
“M’gonna do my best.” He whispered quietly, letting the back of his hand brush her warm cheek as she snoozed, unaware of his tender words under his breath. Unaware that it felt like he was holding the world in the palm of his hand now, and it was slightly terrifying as he tried to ensure he wouldn’t break it. “Gonna take care of you, sweet girl. Promise.”
——
Their dinner was quiet. Harry had put on jazz music that was understated beneath their talking, the food was good, but there was no denying that they both knew a conversation laid ahead that would be a defining factor.
As much as Harry tried to be calm about it, he was slightly nervous. Y/N looked slightly anxious and he tried to keep his shoulders relaxed but it was hard to when he was unsure what part she was anxious about. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.
“I’m over Danny.” She blurted out. The dam had splintered and she felt like she couldn’t keep it back anymore. “I think I was over him for a long time. if he was in love with me, he would have never sent me to fuck around with someone else. If I was truly in love with him, I wouldn’t have agreed. I wouldn’t have been so eager to come and see you. It has been bothering me for a bit thinking maybe I was a bad person for wanting to move on so quickly but I think I had accepted subconsciously that it had been over for so long that it made it easier for me to feel almost single when I was around you.” Taking a gulp of air, she continued. To his credit Harry didn’t interrupt, merely folded his hands on the table and looked intently at her.
“The last thing I want you to consider yourself is a rebound, though. I’ve been torn because… while I know I like you a lot, and I do- I really do like you,” she paused to give him a nervous smile. “I wanted to make sure that you understand that I never saw you as someone to move on with when I wasn’t distracted by him in the first place. Every single time we were together I forgot about him. As cruel as it sounds… maybe the first time I had thought about how much better it was and how this was what I was missing, that I knew he’d never be capable of the things I wanted- but being with you was never about him for me.”
Y/N knew she was a flawed individual and it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t morally right to most people and she understood that. But this had felt like a natural turn of events for her.
“You’ve been at the forefront of my mind since we first met up at the coffee shop. I always thought you were slightly intimidating and very handsome, very kind- but once I had the go ahead to think of you as more, it never stopped. It only grew.” Her eyes dropped to her mostly finished plate as she took a deeper breath. It felt like an avalanche of words were trying to come out, all the things she had held back coming out now that she felt safe enough to.
“I thought at first it really was a favor to him, that you were doing this because you were a good friend. But I… I’d like to think I have good enough senses to know that you enjoyed it too. You paid me more attention than anyone else ever has. From the texting to check in and remembering things I said off hand, to getting me things that are so unique to me and our conversations… it blew me away.” Her fingers fiddled with the napkin before she braved his eyes again.
“I just wanted to tell you that I… I really would like to try. With you. The um, the dominant stuff too, but… more? If that's something you’d want.”
“It is.” There was no hesitation in his answer, knowing she was losing steam in her rant. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a while. I tried very hard to be respectful at first, you know…” he swallowed, trying to find the words. “I wanted to be respectful because of you. I didn’t want to get out of turn. And then… I started to care less about it when I saw how little he cared about your relationship himself. I didn’t take the favor on directly because he asked me.” This was a revelation, just a bit. “I took it on because I knew you, I knew the… I know how it is wanting to try something and feeling like you’ve got no options. I also know how dangerous it could be with the wrong hands on you. And I cared for you, back then more so as a friend but I cared and didn’t want you to have a bad experience. I wanted it to be safe and pleasure filled and selfishly, I was attracted to you as it was.”
He may have fooled himself into thinking it was for Danny but he knew deep down why he had done it.
“I think that you took me by surprise. How well we worked together from day one. It felt like… you were made for me. Y’know?”
“Yeah.” She peeped. “I felt the same.”
The small smile on his lips was a reward for her, the table being a good divider for now. If it wasn’t there he knew he would be distracted by wanting to touch her. “Good. I was taken back by it and I wanted more n’more, I got selfish and greedy for a bit. I broke a little, having you in the cafe bathroom. Doin’ that, it was selfish for me. For us. There wasn’t anything pre planned and I knew by how you reacted I wasn’t exactly alone in the want to do more but I didn’t want to make you feel guilty, so I kept it back for a bit.”
It had been so difficult not to beg for me. Ask her to come over during the week when he felt especially lonely. Even just to have her sit in his bed and leave her scent all over the sheets or hear her padding around while he worked. That was the domesticity that he wanted. “It’s been more than sex for me for a while. I know the dynamic is more than that too, but I found myself wanting you around more. Wanting to do more things with you than what we were supposed to do. When we went out the first time together, had me all sort of nervous in the good way and I realized I was getting myself into something that could be really good, or really bad.” His heart had been on the line the whole time.
“Listen.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together again as he had her eyes. “I want t’be with you too. I want more. I want… the fun side where we play and go to the club, all of that. But I want more, too. The dinners and having you in my bed, without fucking. The softer things. I know that in the past you mentioned you had to control everything in your last relationship and I wanted to warn you that m’not like that- I like control in all areas of my life. It’s one of those things I’ve tried to work on a bit. Not necessarily of you in the traditional sense but… I like t’plan the dates. I like to feel needed, don’t mind bein’ the one to take care of you as long as you save that softness for me. Jus’ like you loving on me and being that sweet girl that you’ve shown me so far, and it’ll make me happy.” His hands itched to grab her. “Does that sound like something you can deal with.”
“It sounds like it’s perfect.” A shaky laugh left her as she felt slightly like she was dreaming. “I want to know more about how I can give back to you if you’re doing all the controlling but I… I really like that idea. I don’t mind you being the one to do all those things.” His version was exactly what she wanted.
“Good.” The sigh of relief was enough to relax his shoulders. “Now c’mon over here. You’ve been far away from me for far too long.”
Y/N scrambled up and rounded the table, a shy smile lighting up her face as she sat in his lap and giggled in surprise as his mouth met hers, eager and languid as his large hand held her hip. She felt safe. Giddy. Warm. She could get used to this.
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#the favor#favorrry#harry fanfic#harry styles au#harry styles fanfictions#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry smut#Harry fluff#Harry angst
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟
last christmas, i gave you my heart
ex!joe x fem!reader
note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.
song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.
joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.
he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.
the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.
when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.
joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.
in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.
it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.
but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.
joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.
joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.
he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.
when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.
but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.
why did he do that to you?
when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.
joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.
around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.
he should have thanked you for that.
joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.
he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.
joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.
when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.
they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.
the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.
joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.
he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.
y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.
the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?
he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.
he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.
you answered.
“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.
“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.
“are you— is everything okay?”
“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.
“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.
“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.
“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.
he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.
“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.
“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.
“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.
all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.
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Lone Bunny
Summary: Reader bumps into a man on the street, he was a stranger to her, but she was not a stranger to him.
TW: Stalker!Konig, Oblivious!Reader, eventual smut, murder of a character, NSFW!!, MDNI, Very slowburn, reader is seen as chubby and a virgin, manipulation, loneliness,
Notes: 730 words, i am a first time writer so this could be shit, if this is recieved well ill work on making a prologue or stuff like that, lots of love xxxxx
Prologue
Part One: Scoped
Alone.
That’s all you were. All that you convinced yourself you were. It didn’t help that whenever you brought up your loneliness to family or friends, the response was always ‘Well you need to learn to love yourself until you can love someone else’. How infuriating, how could you love yourself unless someone set an example and showed you how?
You were so touch-starved that the thought of anyone touching you, showing affection, or pleasuring you made you sick to your stomach. You were repulsed by touch, and you'd shy away from a hug, a handshake, or a platonic cheek kiss. You would do anything to get out of situations like that, like an animal gnawing its leg out of a trap.
That’s why you were in the middle of uni, not in a house share, but a single flat, with barely any friends, and repulsed by the thought of touch, ‘just too complicated to love’ you told yourself as you hurried out your flat to your lecture, another failed human interaction with a tinder date, you wore comfy clothes, it wasn’t like anyone was going to look at you. Why would they?
You sipped your coffee as you darted in between the crowds of people, how you hated city life. The noise, the towering buildings, the rudeness, the publicity. All of it was too much for your soft little head. Until your soft little head collided with a very hard chest.
“Pass auf, wo du hin gehst, Hase,”
“Oh my god, I am so sorry, my head is just in the clouds…with class and all.” You rambled for about a minute trying to apologise but you kept running down a rabbit hole. Until he grabbed your shoulder gently. Now this man was massive, his hand was as big as your head, and he towered way over you, and for being 5ft9 that happened on a rare occasion. You blushed a bit at the contact, not receding.
“It doesn’t matter Hase, just watch where you're going, don’t want you getting trampled.” This deep voice behind a hood chuckles a bit as he soothes you before taking his hand off your shoulder and walking off, gone as quickly as he arrived.
You were flustered, your cheeks burning up, but you lied and told yourself it was the cold. It was odd you didn’t flinch when he touched you. You should I mean this was a 6ft10 man who felt like pure muscle when your head collided with his chest. No one had ever made you this flustered, especially not a man you just met, heat pooled between your legs. Surely you weren’t that needy that the first time a stranger gently touched your shoulder, you were soaked, I mean you didn’t even get a glimpse of his face, so you blamed it on your subtle voice kink.
You hurried to your lecture but couldn’t focus once you sat, your hand between your thighs, thick thighs squished together, trying to get any friction without being too obvious, you mentally scolded yourself. Sure, you masturbated, but never really finished, finding it too overstimulating to finish yourself off, your mind scrambling too much for you to continue circling your nub.
After what felt like torture the lecture finished, you managed to push the stranger to the back of your mind. But you were still very wet. You went home for lunch, and all social interaction, or lack of it, drained you, you collapsed on the couch as soon as you got home.
Awoken by your cat licking your hand for food, you got up and fed it until you went down to the lobby to collect post, you walked down the stairs and fumbled with your keys to find the one that opened your post-box, you stopped in your tracks when you saw a single lavender flower sticking out.
Your favourite flower, maybe it was a coincidence, you were subscribed to a lot of grandmaish magazines for hobbies, maybe it was like a gift, but you didn’t want to risk anything, you saw traffickers did stuff like this. You grabbed it with your sleeve and put it in a nearby bin before cautiously opening your postbox, shutting it, and rushing upstairs, locking your door behind you, hoping you were out of view, safe, but little bunny, you were right insight of a scope.
#konig#konig cod#konig x reader#konig x chubby reader#konig!stalker#stalker bf#reading#konig x you#simon ghost riley#konig is pulling a full Joe from YOU
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Last Christmas
21/12: Dressing Up and Dry Humping - Michael Gavey Word Count: 1.8k~ | Warnings: semi-public heavy petting, fingering, dry humping
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
A/N: can be read as a little add on for this series
Even though she's wearing many, many layers of thermal clothes, she's done a good job of making it look like at least half. Black tights, skirt and the worst Christmas jumper she could find in the charity shop. Though not tacky enough to rival the ones she had back home, this one was a close second. Garish. Bright. Unapologetic.
God, it really was Christmas.
A stuffy, hot room, filled with people and steaming roast dinners, one paid for bottle of prosecco by the unj, and then on the lash before they broke up for the holidays. Sounded like a good night to her.
It was nights like this that made her remember last christmas party. Whenever she thought about it too much, the heat began to pool in her belly. Back then, she'd been fearless. Sucking off Michael Gavey in the common room while a party took place next door? She'd never imagine herself doing something so brave now.
Although, she could be tempted. Depends what he was dressed like.
In all honestly it had been a while since she'd seen him last, he'd been so preoccupied with his studies and then when he was done, it was her and…their schedules just never seemed to align at all. Until tonight hopefully.
But as she was filing into the hall, weaving through the groups of friends who assigned their seats at individual tables adorned with candles and Christmas crackers, she realised with a burning embarrassment at the back of her neck she may have misplaced what ‘dressing up’ meant.
Everyone was in smart clothes.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She was only offered a small relief when she spotted Michael, in a neat little button up and smart trousers. His blue eyes glimmered with recognition in a way that her stomach clench, until his brows furrowed in amusement at her…less than smart jumper.
“What the fuck is that?” he half laughed, trying to bite it back as soon as it left his mouth, judging the look on her embarrassed face.
She ran her fingers awkwardly through her hair, brushing it from her hot face. “I um…might have misinterpreted the theme…”
He let out a snort, holding a glass in one hand as his eyes did a full scan of her. Equal parts amused and appreciative. “Misinterpreted? I'd say you did a sharp left—”
She swatted his arm, semi-hard but not enough to hurt, “shut it. It's a Christmas dinner! I thought that meant…you know…festive.”
Michael bit back a grin, leaning over to grasp another glass to offer her, to at least calm her ever-rising nerves. She looked quite out of place amongst the smart shirts and sleek dresses.
She sat beside him at the table, her hands clasped under it to try and hide the design of her jumper somewhat. Michael in turn, patted her arm.
“Hey,” he whispers, quiet enough to not disturb the chatter at the table, “it looks cute. In a ‘holiday disaster’ kind of way.”
She scoffs, taking a tart sip of her prosecco, “thanks, makes me feel so much better.”
“You should,” he replied, leaning closer still. “You’re the only one who looks like they actually want to be here.”
She let out a breathy laugh, watching as the hum of conversation became laughter. Popping champagne corks, the air buzzing with sharp fizz. As dinner was served and alcohol flowed, combined with the holiday spirit, there was the slight edge of recklessness inching closer in.
After demolishing her sticky toffee pudding, watching as Michael beside her scooped the remnants of his crème brulé out the ramekin placed in front of him, she could feel her head swim, watching him. Even something so simple as the hair that curled at the nape of his neck, the slight bulge of his veins on the back of his hand…had that tightening tug in her stomach.
God what is wrong with me...
As the tables were pushed to the walls of the room and music blared, people began to crowd the middle, a sort of dance floor in lieu of a proper one. Those who were dressed posh, sleek, were now a mess of drunken excitement, sticky with alcohol on their skin.
Michael handed her another glass of prosecco, his eyes a little glassy behind his thin, black spectacles. “Come on,” he murmured, reaching for her hand without hesitation. His fingers were warm and firm around hers, and she didn’t even think to pull away.
“Where are we going?” she asked, stumbling slightly as he tugged her through the doorway and into the dimly lit hall.
“Somewhere less…” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, where two students were drunkenly reenacting a scene from Love Actually. “...that.”
The walls were strung with fairy lights that blurred softly in her vision, the prosecco’s fizz buzzing in her veins. Michael turned another corner, pulling her into a quieter wing of the dorm, laughing softly as their hands remained clasped, glasses clinking.
They stopped in a small, half-forgotten lounge, the kind of place nobody bothered to sit in except during exams. A sagging sofa and a low coffee table sat under a window framed by frosted glass. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, the air cooler and quieter now.
She smiled lopsided as he turned to her, giggling as her back met the wall with him crowding her.
“Better?” He asked.
“Hmm, I'm still wearing this monstrosity,” she snorted, gesturing down to her jumper again.
His gaze followed, but the flush on his face told her that he was likely looking at something else. In this enclosed space, pressed together in secret, she would be a fool to kid even herself that she didn't feel it too.
She laughs softly. A memory coming to her.
“What?” Michael asks, drawing his eyes back up to her again.
“No it's just…this feels familiar, doesn't it?” She smirks.
He raises his eyebrows, for a moment, unsure what she means. Until the realisation makes his lips turn up at the corners.
“Ah, last Christmas? i think I’m still traumatised by the sound of Jingle Bell Rock,” he quipped, his fingers tracing lazy circles along her hip. “Not to mention the fact that we were two seconds away from someone walking in.”
“Two seconds is generous,” she replied, laughing again, the memory as vivid now as it had been then.
She felt his breath against her neck as he leaned in, propping his glass alongside hers on a nearby window sill, the low rumble of his laugh stuttering against her skin.
“Different room this time, though.”
Her breath hitched but her smile remained, “It’s not exactly the same.”
He hummed, his hand tracing a ladder made up her tights, under her skirt. Her skin tingled anywhere he touched, and especially when he grazed against the gusset. So close.
“Michael, what—”
Rrrip!
She gasped and looked down, wide-eyed, to see his fingers hooked in the delicate fabric, a jagged tear exposing the sliver of black lace beneath.
“Oops,” Michael grinned.
Her mouth opened, then closed, words failing her as she glared up at him. “You didn’t just— those were my good tights, Michael Gavey!”
“Don't full-name me,” he smirked, pushing his chest against hers to further cage her in, his fingers maddeningly hooking into her underwear, relishing in the squeak of surprise she let out as he dragged his digits through her wetness. She would be ashamed to admit how the pads of his fingers combined with the cool air that hit her made her weak.
“Michael..” she warns softly, but he doesn't interpret it as one.
He's come a long way since blushing terribly, stuttering and nervous with her between his legs.
Her hand found his shoulder, a silent moan escaping her lips, fighting to remain quiet as two fingers slid inside her, too slowly. Too agonisingly slowly. He crooked them forward, towards him, finding her sweet spot after a few moments of exploration.
She internally cursed him for giving him experience he could use against her. He's getting too good at that.
He mouthed at her neck, lowering to where it met her shoulder, pushing into her to the knuckles with a deliberately unhurried pace. She tried to rock her hips to encourage him, to save her sanity and go faster at least. But he didn't.
He was preoccupied.
The way his hips were rolling against hers, the solid press of him through his jeans grinding in time with his fingers. The stretch stole the breath from her lungs but she daren’t say anything. She could feel his breath hitch against her skin as he rutted against her.
She could feel his restraint unravelling slowly, the way his hands trembled slightly even as they worked her, the way his hips ground against her like he couldn’t help himself.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as he groaned softly into her neck. “Fuck,” he murmured, though the words sounded half to himself. His voice was rough, like he was holding himself back, savouring every moment.
Too drunk, too overwhelmed to rush him, she let her head fall back, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out as his fingers curled just right inside her. He was getting off on this too, and something about that made her heart hammer in her chest.
Her fingers scraped against his scalp as she felt herself clench around him, her lips parting to utter his name but caught by the rolling waves of pleasure viewing through her body. Through the haze she felt the grind of his erection against her thigh speed up slightly, until he groaned, a low shudder, as he drunkenly spilled into his boxers.
For a moment, neither of them moved, the quiet punctuated only by their laboured breathing and the muffled thrum of music still filtering through the dorm walls. His weight pressed heavily against her, his arm wrapped around her waist as though anchoring himself.
“Jesus,” he muttered after a long silence, his voice muffled against her shoulder. He lifted his head to look at her, and she giggled slightly and righted his glasses. He pulled his fingers out from her, but stayed nestled inside her underwear. “We should…probably get cleaned up before someone comes looking.”
She ran her fingers down his face, a look of soft admiration and a gleam of excitement in her eyes.
“Or…” she offered, stealing his attention, “we could make them really regret looking.”
She would never get bored of making him laugh, or smile. And when he did, her chest fluttered with warmth, his own cheeks flushed. The grin that stretched across his face was so boyish, so disarming.
“Just like old times?”
She nodded in confirmation, “just like old times.”
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Mike Wheeler and his Promise
"It means something that you can't break. Ever."
A huge part of Mike Wheeler's hidden character arc is set up in season 1, episode 2 with this scene right here. It's pretty much the motivation behind many of his actions towards El and Will, can be a partial explanation for his internalised homophobia and explains why he seems like to have a saviour complex.
Narratively, promises are made to be broken. When writers decide to make a promise 'important' and emphasise that this promise cannot be broken, ever, it will always come back to bite that character in the ass. Promises are either made to be broken in stories like these, or they are made to make a character feel trapped. Promises are rarely ever used in a romantic fashion unless the character cannot keep their promise or they feel like they are forced to.
What makes it really seem like Mike and El are a doomed couple to me is that the writers chose Mike to say: Ever.
No word is misplaced in writing a script. There is no such thing as an unintentional line in Stranger Things tbh, and this word in particular means two things:
Mike will always keep his promises throughout time.
Mike will keep his promises no matter if circumstances change, no matter if his feelings change.
There is no reason for this line to be in there other than to foreshadow the fact that Mike will eventually have to eat the words from his naive 12-year-old self. He will eventually regret promising something, but he'll feel like he can't go back. Ever.
The domino effect Promise begins:
*Smiling* "And we can go to the Snow Ball."
*Smiling* "Promise?"
*No longer smiling* "Promise."
This promise was made in order to foreshadow that it doesn't come true right? Because that is often what happens to promises narratively, and of course, it can't come to be because they get separated and Mike thinks she's died.
But.... the promise does come true.
So instead, this promise was made, narratively, to trap Mike. While this seems harsh of course, this young Mike has no idea that what he has just promised to himself is not only to go to the Snow Ball with El (which was a promise made to comfort her here, to make her feel like she will survive). He doesn't necessarily seem happy about making this promise. He seems more... indifferent. Knowing that this is something he just has to do.
Yeah, because this is definitely the actors' expressions and lighting and scenery you want for a first kiss, right?
So not only has Mike promised to go to the Snow Ball with her, he has also promised to save her, he has promised to be with her. And he can't break this promise, ever.
Even when his feelings change:
The writers separated Mike and El and put Mike with Will in season 2 for a reason. They used it to build up a good development of Mike and Will's dynamic of course, but it was also to change Mike's feelings.
It eventually becomes apparent to the viewer that Mike has resigned himself to not finding El. In season 2 episode 2, the last time we see Mike on the walkie, he walks away. Music swells and El looks onwards. Instead of looking happy, she seems disappointed that her bond with Mike is not as strong as she thought.
Mike, after his talk with Will in the same room, has begun to give up.
And over time, he figures out that maybe... maybe finding and choosing to Will's friend is the best thing he's ever done instead. Once he figures this out, he cries, he's not loud, he's not angry. But it's at least the thing to bring Will's message forward.
Then El comes back, and Mike feels like a liar.
I've never really figured out why Mike shouts 'LIAR!' many times towards Hopper when he's clearly projecting as he starts to cry. Until now. It's the guilt that he didn't keep his promise. The promise he had made back when El had almost died, back when El had clearly thought promises could never be broken. EVER. Even when feelings change.
Of course he'd felt pissed at Hopper. Hopper was the one to keep El safe, not Mike, which is not the thing he had promised.
When El returns, Mike says:
"I never stopped looking for you."
Woops, Michael, that's a bald-faced lie, and you know it. But he also knows what a promise is, something that can't ever be broken.
Mike is now committed into this relationship. He's ready to keep El as his girlfriend for many reasons, but the next commitments he makes (i.e. saying 'I love you') are not intentional.
In season 3:
Saying 'I love her' happens on accident, she's never meant to hear. The next time he's asked about it, he fumbles and wants to deny ever saying it. But when El says it back, he realises... oh shit. I really am in this now. I can't escape, even though I know my feelings are different.
In the famous words of Hopper. "I don't want things to change." "[I want] to go back to how [we] were."
Throughout summer, before the Mindflayer, his relationship with El was easy, it was fine. He could deal with this because he can still go to movie theatres with Will and his friends and El can't go out in public. His relationship isn't real, and the fights they have are just 'silly, stupid fights'.
But then she says she loves him too and now what? He realises this is real, he can't go back on what he's said again. Because no matter what, a promise can't be broken.
Now:
He has to reject childish things and pretend to be 'normal' (but only around El).
He has to keep away from Will, who has the potential to break his promise to El forever.
He still can't say 'I love you' because of this great big commitment, this potential for change, and El clocks him, despite his best efforts to keep up the same relationship he was trying to have in season 3.
When he no longer has the threat of this great big PROMISE looming over him, when he feels that El has no broken up with him through that note signed 'From, El', he now suddenly has the ability to act close to Will. When he's confident that El's safe and that they just need to get back to Hawkins, he's able to express how he really feels.
He can finally, finally work with Will without feeling guilty.
That is, until El's in danger again. Until Argyle reminds him of the ramifications of his girlfriend being missing, reminding him of the promise that he's always made.
That's when this intimacy with Will suddenly feels taboo again:
The next time he needs to make a commitment towards her, it's through pressure. The bottom line is, Mike likes being a hero, he wants to be a saviour, but he was never ready for it to feel like this.
When Will reminds him that he's the heart of the Party in Surfer Boy Pizza, he believes that it could never be Will that needs him, but that Will's telling him that it really is El that still needs him. And that she always will.
So he holds her hand, exactly like he did back in season one, and makes his Promise again, this time, knowing that he's trapping himself.
Now, instead of a naive kid, he's a teenager, he's changed, despite not wanting to. He's resigning himself to a life without truly being able to express his feelings. He's not just some kid going to the Snow Ball with a girl that he cares about, he's promising to love her, knowing he's trapped himself in this promise again.
After all, he's already promised to save her, and if he thinks saying 'I love you' will save her, he's gotta do it no matter his true feelings right?
In season 5, someone, someone needs to tell this poor boy that he does not need to keep his promise. El needs to tell him about her growth, what she has learned from her time at the lab---that is, that she does not need Mike to love her, which she seems to have understood. She has already accepted that her lover won't arrive at the train station.
And Mike should realise that saying 'I love you' did not in fact save El. It was the reminder to fight, that Max is in trouble, that there are more important things, bigger than their relationship, that allowed her to escape the vines.
So when Mike hears that he no needs to keep up this promise, that he no longer has to hate himself for being a 'liar' to someone he cares so much about, that he can open himself up to happiness and understanding again, he'll probably feel pretty complete.
What do you think?
#byler#byler endgame#byler nation#mike wheeler#will byers#stranger things#stranger things 5#byler evidence#byler proof#byler analysis#mileven is bones#anti mileven
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OMG HIHIHI now I can pciture like, a dark!jj starting to feel his obsession be born in the very moment he lay his eyes on her from affar. And he watches her all the time, to how long she takes to take sip after sip of her drink until random things like who she talks to people around her and walks. And it scares even himself (at least at the begining), this new.. dark and delicious feeling he can't name it, he just knows it increases every time he sees her. Maybe it's the contrast of their nature, it's what he tries to tell himself. Maybe it's how his is so full of anger and complications and hers is so... pure. Full of light. All he knows is that the feeling inside him is growing and turning into a sentence in the back of his head that gets louder and louder: he needs her. He has to have her. One way or another.
Geez sorry the delulu in me got the hots and just went with the flow I guess
THATS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!!
He doesn't know why he's so intrigued with you, why he's interested in a kook of all people, but you're different, not all bitchy and spoiled or thinking you're something better than the pogues.
You're sweet, almost too pure, and he just can't help himself but keep his eyes on you the second he catches a glimpse of you at a keg party on the beach.
He studies how you don't really drink from your cup, only taking small sips as if you're scared to get caught, clenching his jaw when he sees Rafe draping an arm over your shoulder as you giggle at something he said.
That psychotic drug addict should be the last person you stand close to, but it's not surprising, you're a sight for sore eyes but JJ knows that the kook prince only looks for a little fun, not for the interesting person you actually are.
JJ thought it was just the alcohol that night that made him so obsessive over someone who he never really talked to, but somehow he finds himself coincidentally seeing you around Kildare more often...
It gets so bad that he even starts to sneak onto your family's property, hiding behind some bushes as he gets a clear view of your room from your open window, watching you get ready for bed.
You turn off the light of your vanity mirror, getting up and stifling a yawn as you walk towards your bed, carefully slipping under the soft covers and making sure that none of your plushies fall on the ground.
JJ is about to leave when you suddenly reach under your pillow and pull out a small Lovie, but what really gets his attention is when you push the attached pacifier past your lips, getting more comfortable on your bed.
Now that's even more interesting.
A few more weeks of watching you and doing his own research on his phone he thinks that he knows what this is that you're doing, that state you seem to revert to for whatever reason he hasn't figured out yet.
Normally he would just ask Pope, but he doesn't want any of his friends knowing or thinking about him being some creep that's been watching you for about a month now.
His obsession only grows the more he finds out about you, not being able to control himself anymore as he quietly climbs in through your window one night, that small voice in his head being more prominent every time he sees you and getting the better of him.
He feels completely out of place, the clean and neatly organized room mocking his appearance, but it's oddly calming with the fairy lights that adorn the headboard on your bed and the faint scent of the lavender candle that's lit up on your nightstand.
Finally his gaze lands on your sleeping figure, all snuggled in your sheets and a bunny plushie tucked under your chin as the pacifier slowly bobs in your mouth.
He knows this is sick, that he shouldn't even be here, but a part of him doesn't even care, only thinking about satisfying his need to be close to you to make that voice finally shut up for a while.
Standing beside your bed he tilts his head to the side, almost cooing at how adorable you look and completely unaware of him right next to your bed, cautiously reaching out to caress your cheek.
"I'll take care of you soon...just gotta prepare everything." He whispers more to himself. "I just need some more time but don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you until then."
You will be his, no matter what it takes, you'll understand one day and thank him for saving you.
But who's saving you from him?
Taglist
For everything:
@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse
@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16 @sweetstars-posts @rafecameronsloverrrrr @rafenroostersgirl
For JJ:
@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva
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Request please🤗: Marshall x Reader, he's extra protective of her while she's pregnant
A/N : Hey ! I know you posted that Ask a while ago but I recently found it while sorting through them, and I wrote a little blurb. I hope you like it 💕.
Shields Up
CW : Pregnancy - Mention of past miscarriage - Marshall Mathers being protective
As a public figure, you were used to rumors. You had chosen this life and you were fully aware that it came with the territory. As a content creator, your job was literally based on your ability to get people’s attention, after all. After years of hard work, you had gathered a pretty huge following and you had quickly learned that the bigger you were, the more rumors would emerge. Collaborations, alleged feuds, made-up drama and, of course, dating rumors. Nothing seemed to be off the table for the media outlets and, even though it hadn’t been easy to navigate at first, you had grown accustomed to it. In fact, most of the time, you didn’t go out of your way to confirm nor deny anything. You just focused on doing what you loved, making good content and your fans were used to you being private on some parts of your life and you were often praised for your ability to be honest, sometimes vulnerable, without giving too much away. People seemed to like the fact that you weren’t ready to commodify your privacy and your relationships for engagement and clickbait.
So, when rumors started to emerge about you dating Eminem, no one was exactly surprised that both of you stayed silent. After all, you were both known to be notoriously private, focusing on your careers and preferring that the attention remained on your work you put out. That being said, none of you got out of your way to hide the relationship either, so anyone who was looking out for subtle clues could probably find them. You followed some of his friends and family members on Instagram, were sometimes spotted to events he would perform at… It was that kind of situation of something basically being public knowledge without ever being broadcasted.
After years spend together, you were in agreement that it was better that your relationship was kept separate from your professional, public personas. Both of you were known to have a strong work ethic and, though you didn’t have any expertise in music and he didn’t understand much about content creation, you respected each other’s career too much to let your relationship overshadow anything. You knew full-well that, no matter how good you were at your jobs, some of the attention would inevitably be focused on your personal lives. Detroit being a fairly small city, it wasn’t rare for you to attend the same events as him, but you always made sure to arrive separately and not engage in PDA. At most, you’d been spotted chatting on a couple of occasions over the years, but nothing in your demeanors indicated that there was any intimacy between the two of you. Until you got pregnant, at least.
As soon as you handed him the positive pregnancy test, Marshall instantly became more protective of you. You were both overjoyed by the news. Emotional, too. Almost a year prior, you had accidentally gotten pregnant. It wasn’t planned by any means, but you both agreed to keep the baby. Sadly, you ended up miscarrying a few weeks later, still in the early first trimester. Before then, you had always said you didn’t need to raise kids to feel fulfilled, and Marshall had been pretty adamant about not wanting more kids. But the event changed everything, stirring something deep within you, and it didn’t take long before you started actively trying. The miscarriage had been a tough pill to swallow, at first, but none of you really addressed it. After all, you knew it wasn’t a rare occurence, and that these things happened. But you didn’t realized how badly it had left its marks on Marshall until you got pregnant again.
He did not become overbearing of controlling - it just wasn’t him - but there was a new, unmistakable layer of attentiveness and protectiveness. It started with him making sure you were alright throughout the day, reminding you to eat, hydrate and rest, often checking in on how you were feeling. The second you expressed any discomfort, such as fatigue or nausea, he would step in, ready to do anything to make it easier for you. The thermostat would be perfectly adjusted, the fridge always stocked with your favorite snacks and he even got some of the specific teas the doctor had recommended. Of course, he absolutely refused to have you carry anything remotely heavy - not even your oversized tote - and whenever you started talking about deadlines for your projects, he reminded you that the last thing you needed was stress.
You thought he’d keep on maintaining his distance at public events - at least as long as you kept the pregnancy hidden. However, you were proven wrong when you both attended a fundraiser for some Detroit charity. As usual, he skipped the red carpet while you did the photo call but, as soon as you were done, you spotted him, waiting for you. Usually, he’d be in some corner of the room, talking to Paul or some acquaintances, but his attention was unmistakably on you. Throughout the night, he didn’t hover or smother you, but he kept closer than usual, and when you walked through the crowded room, he guided you with a hand placed on the small of your back, shielding you from jostling bodies.
« Are you alright? » you asked quietly, to which he hummed and nodded. « You don’t have to stay so close, you know, » you gently reminded him, your tone teasing and affectionate, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. « Just looking out for you both » he murmured with a faint grin. Your heart swelled and you couldn’t help but find him adorable, so much so that it took a lot of self-control on your part not to kiss him right then and there. Instead, you simply stood there, smiling at each other. As the night event on, you were both solicited by friends and acquaintances, but you could still feel Marshall’s sharp gaze on you, scanning each and every individual that engaged with you, as if to make sure they weren’t a threat. As the night wore on, Marshall’s vigilance didn’t waver. He made sure you always had a glass of water nearby and checked in with you subtly, asking if she needed to sit or if you were getting too warm under the venue’s lights. At one point, when he noticed the press swarmed near the entrance, he positioned himself slightly in front of you, a silent barrier that made it clear you weren’t to be overwhelmed or bothered in any way. By the time you left, you were both exhausted and grateful. You expected to leave in separate cars, as you always did, but instead of sticking to the usual routine, he opened the door and helped you in. Cameras flashed, capturing the rare moment, but none of you really cared. You were simply looking forward to the perspective of heading home for some much-needed rest, and you could tell that he needed to have you close, at least for his own peace of mind.
By the next morning, the Internet was ablaze. Photos and videos from the fundraiser were everywhere, showing the two of you together in ways that left no room for ambiguity. People were notably crazy about one picture, where he could be spotted guiding you through a small crowd, one hand on your back. Twitter threads speculated wildly. « We’ve seen him with her before, but this? This is different, » one user wrote, linking to a clip of him helping her into the car. « I’m telling you, they’re not hiding it anymore. ». The speculation grew more intense with every passing hour. Was this your way of confirming the relationship? Were you going public after years of silence? Marshall, as always, ignored the noise. He spent the morning in his home studio, tinkering with beats, while you scrolled through your phone, half-amused and half-exasperated by the Internet’s obsession. You walked over, wrapping your arms around him from behind. « You know, you’re kind of bad at the whole ‘keeping a low profile’ thing lately. ». He tilted his head back, looking at you with mock indignation. « I’m just making sure you’re good. They’re the ones reading into it. » You laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. « Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing. »
#eminem fanfiction#eminem fluff#marshall mathers imagine#marshall mathers x reader#eminem x reader#eminem imagine
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i hear your heart, now it’s racing.
synopsis — you were very aware of how possessive lara could be and despite the obvious interest from others, you only had eyes for her.
established relationship, high school au, fluff, possessive!lara, loser!reader, like two cuss words.
now playing: you belong to me, ari abdul.
a/n: came up with this after thinking about hot and sexy gf!lara. i need her to claim me so fucking bad... anyway, this includes reader being apart of the loser club with winter, yunjin and minji lmao.
this is a lot longer than what i usually write, so get comfortable :’) apologies for any typos & as usual, happy reading!
at the sound of the school bell ringing you let out a relieved sigh, finally able to leave the place everyone thought was hell on earth. quickly packing up your chemistry textbook and pencil case, you shoved it in your bag, already standing up and walking away from the desk.
you rushed out the classroom, barely hearing ms. park’s voice over the cluster of her students hurried footsteps, all trying to make their escape. the walk to your locker was short, feeling lucky that the hallway wasn’t nearly as packed as you expected it be considering it was now the end of the school day.
when you reached your locker, it didn’t take long until another presence was beside you. with your peripheral vision, you see that it was minjeong.
“hey,” she greeted you. minjeong blew up a piece of her blonde hair, the bangs almost covering her eyes. “do you wanna come over after the gig later? i got new a lego set for us.”
she rocked back and forth on her heels, the excitement clear on her face.
you and minjeong were similar in many ways. both of you were more on the quieter side, preferring to observe rather than interact with others. you both took your studies seriously, being top of your class. you also enjoyed the act of building lego’s together, bonding over it after she’d brought it up one day after band practice. and, you were both what your girlfriends described as ‘a loser in a hot body.’ you didn’t understand what it meant, but lara claimed that’s what you were so you didn’t question it.
“can’t.” you replied, shutting the locker door. “it’s date night with lara, and we’re going out after.”
minjeong pouted at not being able to hang out with you. building lego’s together was her favorite pastime between sleep, studying, band practice and hanging out with her girlfriend.
you flicked her forehead at the sight of her lips jutted out. “stop that, jimin may find it cute but i don’t.”
“ouch!” she yelled, rubbing at the now sore part on her forehead. “you’re so mean.”
you snorted, “and you’re so weak.”
minjeong scoffed at your words as you began to walk towards the double doors of the school, her hand tugging on the sleeve of the brown and white flannel you wore.
“we can’t all be jacked like you, ass.” she complained, moving to sling her arm over your shoulder.
“you can’t even see it!”
“that’s the problem.” minjeong huffed, raising her arm in the air. “you see this? these noodle arms look exactly like yours, except mine doesn’t bulge out when i flex.”
you had a bit of a sleeper build, the muscles only showing when there was tension. minjeong made a grunt, bending her arm as if she was flexing in order to add to her point. you laughed at her, shoving her arm down.
“whatever.” you shook your head at her, leading the two of you towards your car.
when you reached the parking lot, minjeong pulled her arm off you and got in the back seat once you’d unlocked it, leaving the door open for any conversation that came up. leaning against the gray vehicle, you pulled out your phone, shooting lara a text that said you were waiting outside for her.
the redhead spotted you as soon as she walked out the double doors, saying a goodbye to her friends and reminding them of what time you’d be playing tonight.
she approached you with a coy smile, looking you up and down. “well, you look absolutely delicious right now.”
the possessive streak ran through her body, realizing that everyone at school could also see how good you looked.
a blush appeared on your cheeks as she snaked her arms up your neck and locked her fingers together. “hi baby.” you mumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
minjeong couldn’t help the cackle that escaped her when she saw your bashful state. pulling away from your girlfriend, you scowled at her.
“i don’t know why you’re laughing, i’ve seen you gay panic way worse around jimin.” you shot back, while minjeong flipped you off.
lara giggled at the interaction, placing a kiss on your neck and walked around to the passenger side. you both got in the car and the drive to minjeong’s place began. you’d be taking her home first before making your way to your place with lara.
after dropping minjeong and starting the route to go home, you glanced to look at the indian girl, who busied herself with looking through stories on instagram. you placed a hand on her thigh, tapping twice to gain her attention.
“are you sure you wanna come with me? the girls and i have to be there an hour before.” you asked, double checking if it was still alright with her.
“yes, i’m sure.” she looked up, locking her phone and lifted her arm to place it behind your head, nails softly scratching the lower part of it. “i want to be there for you.”
lara was an extremely supportive girlfriend, which you were grateful for. even back when you were just friends she gave you her full support, coming to a few band practices and going to all your shows. it was one of the reasons you fell in love with her, among many others.
“okay.” you said quietly, sending her a grateful smile and continued the drive home.
“and now, introducing fallen angel!”
the loud cheers of the crowd had your adrenaline rushing as you stepped out onto the stage. you walked over to your positioned spot, eyes searching for lara in the dimly lit place. finally catching her gaze, she waved and blew you a kiss, your smile so wide it hurt your cheeks.
“woo!” the scream came from daniela, who sat to the left of lara at the round table.
yunjin chuckled as the clapping and cheering died down. she reached up to hold the mic, her raspy voice echoing through the speakers.
“hello, we are fallen angel, and we’ll be doing a cover of about a girl by nirvana.”
the crowd erupted in shouts once again, a few loud whistles here and there. when everyone settled down, yunjin did the count down in her head, then began strumming her guitar. she and minji were on vocals, with you playing the bass and minjeong on drums.
the crowd was hyped as the song played, all four of you feeding off of their energy. you smiled when you caught lara staring, feeling your heart hammer in your chest against your ribcage. you weren’t sure made you more nervous, playing in front of all these people, or the look your girlfriend was giving you at that moment.
lara sang along to the lyrics, her upper body moving with the beat as she turned to face daniela, screaming along with her. her confidence in you swirled around in her chest. she was so unbelievably proud.
as the song began to end, she told the kats’ she’d be back soon, getting up from her seat and swerved through the people. minji thanked the crowd for their support, a couple more cheers being let out. their loud noises were still ringing in your eyes when the four of you walked to the side of the stage that was hidden from everyone.
as soon as you saw lara, you carefully placed down the bass and hugged her tightly, pressing her body against yours.
“you did so well, baby!” she rubbed your back as a sign of support. her mouth was by the shell of your ear, breath tickling you.
“thank you, my darling.” you mumbled into her hair, closing your eyes for a second as you basked in the comfort she brought. “i loved seeing you out there.”
lara leaned back, your arms still wrapped around your torso, cupping your cheeks. she smiled brightly, her pearly white teeth on display.
“and i will be at every show until the end.” she whispered, leaning in until you felt her lips on hers.
the indian kissed you with passion, adrenaline now coursing through her veins as well. her lips were soft like always, the lipgloss making them sweetly sticky, but you were used to it at this point. your hands gripped her, squeezing gently. she broke the kiss, her smile even wider than before and she pecked your lips a couple more times before pulling away completely.
“ugh, you guys make me sick.” minji commented, taking a sip of water from her water bottle.
minjeong hummed in agreement, sitting on a chair that was off to the side, her legs stretched out. yunjin, who was busy packing her guitar in its case, turned to face the rest of the group.
“tell me about.” she quipped, tucking her dark blue hair behind her ear.
lara turned around in your arms, her smile now turning into one of amusement. she raised her up arm up until her hand reached your neck, hanging it loosely as she gripped the back.
“sorry, which one of us has a girlfriend again?” you asked rhetorically, knowing that yunjin still had yet to make a move on her crush.
she grumbled under her breath, harshly zipping the guitar case closed. yunjin walked off after that, stomping her feet on her way out. you snickered at her antics, always taking the opportunity to tease her about her single status, even though you knew without lara you would probably still be in the same situation as yunjin.
minji pulled a jacket over her shoulders, ready to leave as well. “i still don’t get how you two happened.”
“me neither.” you said, looking down at lara with an adoring gaze. she could easily see the love in your eyes, and it made her feel warm all over. “but i’m lucky to have her.”
the redhead felt her heartbeat stutter at your words, her own eyes shinning with deep affection for you.
“mh, you’re all mine.” she told you, her voice low. she kissed you once again, before stepping away from you, her hand falling from behind your neck. your arms unwrapped around her, intertwining your fingers together once she turned around to face you again.
“let me pack up real quick and then we can go, okay?”
she nodded, giving your hands a squeeze before walked away. your hands lingered together, outstretched until she was out of your reach.
you picked up the bass that was leaning against the wall and placed it in its case, zipping it up and slinging it over your shoulder. bidding a goodbye to the two other girls, you looked for lara in the mass amount of people. spotting her with her group of friends, you wandered over to her. before you could reach her though, a girl stepped in front of you, blocking the sight of your girlfriend.
“you were really good out there.” she grinned, the corner of her mouth curving upwards.
“uh, thanks.” you told her, accepting the compliment with gratitude.
her eyes trailed down your body, the black and red jersey you wore hanging baggy on you. the girl ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it and tilted her head to the side. she thought you looked unbelievably hot.
“i’m haewon,” she introduced herself, hand outstretched for you to shake. you took it gently, letting go after a second. “it’s nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you too, haewon. my name is yn.”
she chuckled at your words, her voice dropping an octave. “oh, i know. i’ve seen you play before, one of my friends knows you from your school.”
haewon trailed a finger down your chest, but you didn’t pay any mind to it. you glanced over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of lara but the voice of haewon gained you attention.
“tell me, yn, have you ever written a song about someone before?” she questioned, her eyes quickly glossing over your lips.
“a couple, but i’m not sure if they’re good enough.” you told her honestly, holding onto the strap of the black case.
her hand dropped, and she stepped closer. you didn’t think anything of it, being completely oblivious to the tone of her voice.
“sounds like you don’t have the right motivation.” she leaned up, looking into your eyes. “if you want, i could be your muse.”
she was flirting with you, but you didn’t know that.
the oblivious look on you face made this even more fun for her. you were like an untrained puppy, being clueless to her intentions with you.
as you were about to respond, saying you already had one, lara came into view from behind haewon, her eyes sharp and filled with a fiery twinkle.
she’d noticed the shorter girl leaning closer from where she was with the girls, not even letting sophia finish her sentence before she was stalking over towards you. her jaw was clenched, feeling her body light up with jealousy and the territorial thoughts began to spiral.
“there’s my girl.”
she wrapped an arm around you waist, gripping tightly. yours immediately went over her shoulders, smiling down at her with a lovesick look. haewon was forgotten about in your mind, all your focus on the girl under your arm. lara’s mind, however, was screaming with foul words that she wanted to spit out at the dark haired girl.
she wanted to make her crumble, because who was she to flirt with you?
“oh hey,” you beamed, and lara tried not to rip a whole through your jersey with her nails when you gestured to the girl in front of you. “this is haewon, she’s a fan of the band.”
haewon fixed her stare on lara, eyeing her up and down. she gave a sickly sweet smile, waving.
the indian didn’t bother with politeness, a fake smile taking place on her lips. in a demanding tone, she barked at her. “back off.”
her fingers dug into the jersey, strongly pressing them against your side. you furrowed your eyebrows at her behavior, confused on why she was acting like. haewon was nice, thinking that she didn’t deserve the crude treatment.
“woah, lara,” you shot her a look, but she didn’t take her eyes off haewon, glaring at her. “i’m sorry, uh— again, it was nice meeting you.”
haewon didn’t give your girlfriend the satisfaction off backing down, shamelessly looking you over while lara tried to control her temper.
“likewise. i’ll see you around, yn.” haewon said, turning away from the two of you.
hearing your name falling from her lips, lara could feel her sanity slipping away. she was so close to tackling haewon, but the strong hold you had on her weighed her down. once the other girl disappeared into the crowd, you looked at lara with genuine confusion.
“what was that?”
she faced you, taking her arm away from your torso, and crossed her arms. “she was being way too friendly with you.”
“huh? but she was only talking to me.” you stated, thinking over the interaction in your head. your words caused lara to scoff.
god, lara hated how oblivious you were sometimes.
“i saw it, she touched you. leaning in close to you like she was about to kiss you.” her voice shook, the image of haewon’s finger on your chest burned into her mind. it only fueled her rage more, wanting to walk over to the girl and tell her off. “i’m the only person who gets to do that.”
now realizing how lara was feeling and the reason behind her behavior, you sighed. “baby—”
she cut you off with a light shove. it wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to have you stumble back, falling onto a chair that was placed at the bar, the case of the bass slid off your shoulder, it now being beside and you slipped the strap off completely.
the chair at the bar was one of those high stools, which made it easy for lara to step in between your legs as you widened them to make space for her.
the look in her eyes made you fearful, not that you were scared of her, more so of what she could do when she was like this. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d been so possessive with you.
“listen very closely to me…” she started, her hand gripping your chin harshly. the many rings on her fingers were cold against your skin as you craned your neck upwards.
lara’s eyes were filled with a dark look, her jealousy getting the best of her.
“i don’t care what she said to you. you are not to talk to her again, you hear me?” you nodded at her words, the grip she had on you tightening.
despite lara being aware of your faithfulness, you still felt as if you had to reassure her. “you know i only have eyes for you.”
she chuckled. “i know that, but other people don’t. and i fucking hate to see them trying to take what’s mine.”
there was no denying how hot she looked right now, but you didn’t voice your thoughts as to not wanting to upset her further.
you brought her closer by the waist, squeezing them to let her know you understood. lara peered over at you, leaning down until she captured your lips in a rough kiss. her tongue danced over your lower lip, wanting access to your warm cavern. her tongue flicked over yours, all around the inside of your mouth. her hand moved away from your chin, up your jaw and behind your ear until both hands were in your hair where she tugged cruelly. lara used them to pull you away from her, smirking devilishly at your flushed state.
you were breathless, feeling lightheaded from the angry kiss. your heart was beating rapidly, body temperature rising. the place suddenly felt hot, and the jersey wasn’t helping either.
lara ran her thumb over your bottom lip, the color red and bruised.
“let that be a reminder of who you belong to.”
possessive lara pls save me 🙏🏼 hope y’all enjoyed, i’m taking a much needed nap now.. but sophia imagine coming up soon!
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SONIC 3 POST CREDITS THOUGHTS
Spoilers obviously…
So as we now know, Metal and Amy are confirmed for Sonic 4. As an Amy fan, I am thrilled that we FINALLY get to have her in the movies, albeit rather late into the movie franchise. I wanted to talk a little bit about what we are seeing in this scene, as well as some of my hopes for Amy Rose’s movie portrayal.
As we can see, Amy’s combat seems like it will be different from her game self. Whereas game Amy uses her hammer and relies on her physical strength to defeat enemies, it seems like movie Amy will have some extra abilities with her hammer. In a way it seems to work like Thor’s hammer, where she can use it as a projectile against multiple enemies and summon it back.
Amy’s origin is that she uses her tarot cards and they basically tell her she will meet Sonic. This was something about her that had kind of been forgotten with Sega, up until recently. In Frontiers, Sonic make a few references to Amy and her fortune cards, and Amy actually uses them in the DLC. Some of her attacks also involve the cards.
It seems like in her portrayal, she will probably have some sort of magic, as we can see she appears to be able to float (or maybe she just jumped but it looks like floating to me). She very clearly has some combat experience and it’s interesting that the first time we see her, it’s a lot like Tails where it seems like she’s specifically trying to find Sonic. My prediction is that she will probably explain that she used her cards to find him, which is a nod to Sonic CD.
In terms of her seemingly having some sort of magical powers, I kind of have mixed feelings on that. I feel like part of what made Amy special is that she never really had special abilities the way others in the main cast do, but yet she’s still able to hold her own and be a hero in her own way. She’s also extroverted and kind hearted, which is why she’s able to so easily make friends and connect with others. I’m honestly scared that they’ll tone down those parts of her character just to make her more visibly “flashy.”
Her design is kind of perfect imo. At least, her face and hammer is. Im hoping she’ll have a similar outfit to her modern one under the cloak. It looks like they actually took a lot of Amy fans headcanons about her appearing in the cloak and decided to actually make that a reality. I’m sure the original fan who came up with that is gonna freak out when they see this.
As happy as I am for her appearance, I can’t help but feel very nervous for how her personality will be, especially when she has a reputation of being butchered. I really hope they don’t go the route of “girl character is stronger than the boy characters,” as that imo is actually more offensive than progressive. I am a woman btw so I think I’m allowed to have this opinion lol. A female character doesn’t have to be this overpowered character that is stronger than her male counterparts to be strong. I feel suggesting otherwise only implies that girls/women can only be alongside boys/men if they can prove to be better than them. That is simply not true. They can be equals. They can be strong in their own way. Amy does not have to prove anything to the Wachowski boys or to the audience. She is canonically strong and can fight. She is bubbly, she is kind, she is a romantic, she can be hotheaded, she is girly, and she is STRONG. All those things can and SHOULD coexist in her character. I don’t need her to be mellowed out into a stereotypical “I’m a girlboss who doesn’t need help from men” character. Amy’s crush on Sonic is important to her character because it shows that love is not a weakness, it can be a strength just as much as anything else.
My biggest ask for her character is to just LET AMY ROSE BE AMY ROSE.
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|Ink|
Tattoo artist!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
Genre(s): Strangers to lovers, One night stand, Unexpected relationship
Smut Warnings: Intoxication, unprotected sex, Soft!Dom Chan, Switch!Reader, Degrading, Creampies, Breeding kink
Synopsis: You needed to get a tattoo covered up, one you got for your ex. You’re in a new city and go to the closest tattoo parlor by your apartment. The main tattoo artist and owner just so happens to live across the hall from you. Drunken actions turn into a spiral of emotions and your first healthy relationship.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Part 2 ࿐ྂ
The black ink of a slightly faded tattoo stared back at you, right on the inner part of your left wrist.
It’s been almost a year since you broke up with your last boyfriend, the relationship lasting far longer than it should have. The toxicity and constant insecurity while being with him took a toll on you until you finally broke.
Moving to Seoul was an abrupt decision. Your main goal was to just get as much distance as you could from him, in hopes he’d fade with your memories.
This tattoo on your wrist fails to help you forget about him though.
You had gotten it as a matching couples tattoo. Despite all the warnings from people and the internet to never get matching tattoos with someone, you had made yet another impulsive decision.
Your old tattoo artist, who’s worked on majority of your tattoos, is now too far away. You’d have to take time off work to see her, and with the recent dent in your bank account due to the move, you couldn’t afford missing a day.
You turned to face your nightstand and grab your phone off the wooden furniture.
A quick google search leads you to: Stray Kids Studio. It’s not a common name for a tattoo parlor, but the prices are in your range. Ratings say they’re good and when you’re able to find their Instagram account you see countless amazing pieces.
Still, with another glance at the tattoo, you don’t know if you’re able to cover it up well enough to forget the original design.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“The 16th?” A smooth voice confirms, the subtle sound of clicking on a keyboard could be heard over the phone.
After a week of consideration you finally decided to make an appointment at the tattoo parlor.
“Yeah, any time after… 3 pm? It’s a small tattoo, fine line.” Another hum is followed after you answer. “We have an appointment for 3:30 pm, two of our artists. Are you looking for color or traditional?”
“Traditional.”
“That works! Our artist Chan will be the one to cover your tattoo up. Just make sure to bring in some sort of identification and payment, we’ll get you to the back as soon as we verify everything.”
You had already given them your name, so the appointment was finalized after you gave them your number and email so they could contact you in case you forget.
You still weren’t sure how the tattoo will end up, it’s almost worst to have a shitty scribble on your wrist than an old couples tattoo.
Luckily it isn’t his initials, only a small outline of a hummingbird from an intimate inside joke between you two. It’s totally not as if it makes your chest burn hot with rage and jaw clench at just how fucked up that relationship was.
Maybe a blacked out wrist wasn’t so bad after all.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
“You sure you’re up for going out tonight?”
One of your friends sit behind you, sitting on the edge of your bed as she watches you get ready in your mirror.
You glance at her through the mirror with a beauty blender in hand. “It’s been a while since I went out, I need to make the most of my twenties.”
She sighs with a small smile and shake of her head. “Your impulsive decisions are going to get you in serious trouble. Not just shitty tattoos or moving to a whole new city. We’ve made it this far without my phone ringing from the county jail.”
You roll your eyes at the hint of sarcasm in her last sentence, shoulders slumping. “I’m not going to hop in someone’s backseat of their car or anything. I’ll stay close.”
“Sure.” She chuckles before pushing off the bed to help you with your hair.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
It’s been what feels like years since you last were at a club. The hot air from a crowd of people and the nauseating bumping of loud music.
Some places could be really chill, not so cramped. This place, the White Rabbit, is extremely busy on Saturday night.
Knowing this however, you’ve taken some precautions.
A group of your friends already have a booth claimed, a tray of clear liquor shots.
“Tito’s, Everclear and Absolute Vodka.” One of your friends, a small and usually energetic blonde, pointed at each round of shots.
“I can alreayd feel the vomit in my throat.” You mumble, grimacing but picking up one of them readily. With a chaser in hand you shoot back the first one.
Then the second, third, onto your fourth.
Throughout the night, past 3 hours, the shots kept coming. You tried your best to pace yourself, not wanting to get alcohol poisoning.
It was hard when you wanted to get that fuzzy warm feeling fast in your chest. Fast, ended up with it all crashing at once like a train wreck.
“Where are you going?” One of your friends slurred, trying her best to yell over the music and conversations all at once. “Bathroom!” You lied, purse around your shoulder and phone in hand.
You can’t remember if you still had your wallet, but you left your credit and or debit cards at home beforehand. You could afford to get another ID if you did happen to leave it.
What you instead did was go outside, taking in the biggest breath of your life to calm down the spinning feeling in your head.
A groan slipped past your lips, squatting down to the ground to clutch your head between your hands.
You took deep breaths to stop your chest from heaving and trying to throw up the poison in your system.
Your ankles felt weak, vision going spotty. It had been so long since you last partied that you didn’t realize your tolerance was so shit. It made you want to take the longest sleep of your life.
Something cool touched your temple, leaving a wet spot on your flushed skin.
To your right was a man, all black outfit and bottle of water in hand. The streetlight did a poor job of providing enough lighting to see his face but you could make out the slight smile of amusement.
“Where’s your friend? Friends? Need me to call a taxi?” His voice is slightly deep, a little more raspy than anything but what catches your half lidded eyes is the silver jewelry on his lips.
You point to your own lips, head tilting to the side absentmindedly.
“Did that hurt?” You mumble, eyes widening at just how slurred your speech sounded.
He chuckle, squatting down to mimick you and press the water to your free hand. “Did them myself, always hurts more.”
That’s when you notice two other guys, seemingly hanging back and waiting for him with the open door of a taxi.
He follows your gaze and points at the yellow car with his thumb. “Wanna ride with us? Or we can call a different one for us and you take that one.”
The answer is obvious in your drunken mind, a car ride with an attractive sounding man makes your face flush more.
“Friend.” You mumbled back instead, your mind not letting you forget about your friend you drove with you. Your car should be nearby, she said she’d be the designated driver but you lost each other in the crowd after your something odd shot.
He nods with a hum and stands back up, the water still in your hands. He looks back at his waiting friends who almost instantly sigh and close the door.
It makes you raise an eyebrow as the two walk over and the stranger pulls you up abruptly.
You would have screamed in fear, the situation suddenly feeling like a kidnapping, but he set you back down immediately as soon as you regained proper footing.
“Do you have your phone with you? Try calling her.”
Your purse suddenly felt heavier, the reminder of the cellular device in there making you blink your eyes rapidly and look down at it.
Luckily muscle memory helped you type in your password without much thought, but you held the screen up to him with squinted eyes.
“Her name is Haeji.” You slurred, feeling too nauseous suddenly to stare at the bright light for too long.
The stranger looked down at the phone screen and let out another small laugh. He hesitated at first, but clicked on the contact app nonetheless and scrolled till he found Haeji’s name and number.
She was panicked at first, hearing a male voice after picking up the call, but he was able to explain before she drew conclusions.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t run off!” Haeji sighed in relief, crouching down to your drunken form as you hummed back. “Nooo, I said I wouldn’t get in someone’s car.” You replied with a slurred giggle.
Haeji looked up to thank the three men, but found them already waving down another taxi and preparing to leave.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.” She mumbled, looping an arm under your left arm with your right arm over her neck.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Getting a tattoo post hangover is not ideal. You hoped they couldn’t tell how exhausted you were, with sunglasses and hood up.
You hadn’t bothered applying anything more than mascara and lip balm, not in the mood to try and look presentable.
The person at the counter you spoke with truly didn’t match his voice, it was only did he address you by confirming you’re who you are, did you realize it was the same guy.
“I’m Felix, if you decide to book another appointment with us; I’ll be the one you’re most likely talking to.”
He smiled a sweet smile, pearly white teeth and slightly scrunched nose. You couldn’t help but internally oogle at how attractive he is.
Next, he gestured to a curtain, pulling it back for you to see a short and well lit hallway. “It’s the one in the far right.” He pointed to it, the door with a big silver 4 on it.
“He’s just coming off lunch break so you won’t be waiting for long.”
You nodded and stepped into the room, the decor minimal but sleek at the same time. It didn’t feel cold like a standard office would but the lack of colors and mostly blacks with dark grays provided a layer of mystery to whoever your tattooer is.
Hopefully he’s not the opposite of Felix, zero smiles and a deadpanned voice. At the same time you didn’t care, just wanting to cover this tattoo up as fast as you can.
“I’m sorry- usually I like introducing myself in the lobby but I ended up a few minutes behind.”
The rushed words and opening of the room’s door made you break out of your thoughts.
Familiarity struck you, silver lip piercings and protective atmosphere.
He seemed to recognize you too, a smile breaking out on his face. “You sure you shouldn’t be at home right now? You looked pretty shit faced the other night.”
Your tongue clicked and shoulders sagged at his easy teasing. “I was just a little rusty, should I be concerned about you though? Don’t want my tattooer to be hungover.”
He mimicked the noise you made earlier with a slightly more sarcastic click of his own. “I’m guessing you made it home fine?”
His coat was hung up on the door, making your eyes trace his bare arms. In the middle of August it’s to be expected people wear tank tops but you weren’t prepared for the gains this guy had.
Not the mention the think black lines of a tattoo of his own swirling from his elbow up.
“Who did that peice?” You hummed absentmindedly, head tilting to follow the curves. He glanced down at his own arm and tapped it twice.
“My good friend, he works here too. Changbin. If this is your style I recommend coming back for something similar.”
He grinned at being able to promote one of his friends, and bringing back another customer at the same time.
“Maybe, I’m more into meanings behind tattoos.”
“What meaning is the one I’m covering up then?”
As he asked this question he’s pulling out a drawer to gather his things and snap on black rubber gloves.
You laid back onto the tattoo chair, left arm already stretching out to rest on one of the arm rests.
“Something to do with my ex.” You mumbled back, shoulders slumping.
“I know- cliche, and not a good idea.”
He chuckled in agreement, eyebrows raising at he looked at the poor quality humming bird.
He grabbed a tablet from one of the cupboard tables off to the side along with his Apple Pencil, drawing app already pulled up and ready to do.
“So what style are we going for, any inspos?”
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
Making a design went smoother than you thought, he was able to draw a sketch pretty fast with help of your input.
When he put the stencil on your wrist, it looked promising as it did well to blend in with the muddled lines of your old tattoo.
The finish work as way better however.
“You can’t even see it…” You mumbled in shock, moving your wrist side to side as if trying your best to pick out the old tattoo.
“That’s the point.” He replied with a small chuckle, always prideful when a client compliments his work. Even more when said client is gorgeous.
He did a last wipe before applying the protective layer over it. “You know how to care for it as I’m assuming, and if you ever want to add something more or schedule for another I’m sure any of us will be more than happy to.”
He lead you back out to where Felix was still stationed, the blonde giving his usual friendly smile.
“Everything go well?” He asked as he pulled up your name. “Definitely, glad I was able to find such a good parlor. I was nervous since it’s obviously not my usual.”
“What place do you usually go to?” Chan asked, right hip leaning on the counter as he took off his gloves to throw away.
“It was called 8-Teez, it’s far away and I just moved.”
Felix turned around the monitor as he finally was able to pull up the payment screen.
You grabbed your card along with cash, knowing to always tip your tattoo artist.
“There’s a really good Pho place over at 7th Street, if you ever need a good food suggestion.”
You grinned at the hidden implications of his words, or, what could be there at least unless he really was just being nice.
“Yeah? I live right by there. Those new high rise apartments.”
Chan’s eyebrows seemed to raise at what you said before pointing a finger at himself.
“Me too, Apartment 143.”
You gasped as you grab your Apartment key and show him your number. “146!”
"Only 3 rooms apart." He said with obvious shock in his voice, Felix leaning over the desk to look at the key too. "Wow, what a coincidence!" He laughed while tilting his head to the side to make sure he was reading it correctly.
"Guess I'll have to drop by one of these days, Y'know, see if you're taking care of my work right."
You shook your head with an amused smile. "Totally; and I'll make sure to order takeout for two, Y'know, because starving artists and all."
#skz#stray kids#bang chan skz#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#bang chan fluff#tattoos#tattoo artist
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Abby will have beef with toy Bonnie in FNAF 2..
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#abby schmidt#toy bonnie#fnaf 2#fnaf movie#fnaf bonnie#withered bonnie#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#ABBY is gonna throw hands with toy Bonnie#toy Bonnie has no idea what danger he is in#tbh Abby probably will love the toys#up until she finds out they are made up of her friends parts#especially toy Bonnie give back og Bonnie’s face#if you don’t hand it over Abby will take it herself…#don’t mess with Abby…
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i've gone to sleep angry and woken up angry every day since last saturday
#the flatmate who moved out was made CRYSTAL clear of her contractual duties to keep paying rent until she's been replaced on the lease#just like the other flatmate who moved out (and flatmate B is a student who works part time and has a deadbeat dad she can't move home to)#flatmate A works full time and will be living at home rent free and only moved out to go on a free holiday to mexico with her sisters#but it's flatmate A who's throwing a tantrum saying she wants her bond back and wants to stop paying rent now#even though no one's moved in to replace her on the lease WHICH WAS THE STIPULATION OF HER BREAKING IT EARLY#she KNEW this and she avoided all attempts at conversation about it before she moved out#but now that we're not face to face she's so brave over text with her lawyer sisters in her ear trying to tell us we're fucking her over#and trying to get us to pay HER RENT on top of our own#it's a fixed term lease you can only break it if you abide by the conditions the landlord sets#and the conditions were that she find someone to replace her on the lease#she's claiming that bc flatmate c (who's staying in the flat) moved into her room out of his couples room (bc him and flatmate b broke up)#that that somehow counts as her being replaced on the lease#no matter how many times we tell her that's not the case because how the fuck could he replace her when he's already on the lease#she refuses to listen. IT'S A ONE IN OUT SYSTEM BABE AND YOU'RE STILL IN#it's just soooooo shitty and sneaky like we've been friends for three years and now she's throwing it all away for WHAT#i hate people pleasers i hate people who hide their selfishness and sneakiness behind smiley faces and kisses#how is it in ANY way fair that the rest of us pay her rent so she can go on holidays. yeah i'd fucking like that too girl#it's stressing me out so bad because she's trying so hard to get between us all and tell one person that the other person said something#and then you ask the other person and they say no i absolutely did not say that#and we have proof evidence and facts on her side but she refuses to believe them#anyways. we've referred this all on to our landlord now so now it's her problem and out of our hands#ugh. it just sucks because we were really close friends and now what are we
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bad dating stories time: the shoe incident
so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.
at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.
he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?
and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.
but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.
i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?
(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)
and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.
i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.
that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.
i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.
anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.
i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.
we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.
he was okay at it.
eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.
soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.
realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:
"i can't get pregnant"
which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.
still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"
and then i was in my car, and i drove away.
if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.
and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.
WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.
we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.
do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.
and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.
then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.
and then they started making out.
i was close enough to hear it.
i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.
so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.
now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.
so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.
about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.
my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.
my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.
they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?
and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.
#dating stories#anecdotes#long post#funny story#babylon#im really bad at dating#like i can do a lot better than this but also it just was kind of a nightmare for me#shit like this did make the whole thing easier tho#like#every date after this i could go you know ive seen how bad it can get#and i lived#didnt even get shot#writing
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need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!
Two lines — Rafe Cameron
Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)
Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)
A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!
Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.
There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.
I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.
“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”
He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”
His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”
I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.
He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.
“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.
He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”
I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.
As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.
"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.
I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.
Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"
I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"
She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."
Oh, right. That one.
I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"
Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"
I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."
She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.
After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.
The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.
We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.
As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.
JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.
"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.
"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.
I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.
JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.
"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.
"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.
Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.
"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.
I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.
"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.
Oh god, here we go.
Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.
"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."
The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.
I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.
"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.
Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.
"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"
"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.
The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.
Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.
"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.
Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.
I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.
"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.
For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"
I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.
"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"
Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.
My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.
"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.
Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."
For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.
I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.
Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.
His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.
I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.
“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”
His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.
I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.
He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”
I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.
Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.
“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.
“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.
I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.
They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.
As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.
The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.
Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.
I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.
He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.
In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.
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𝒥ust a bet﹕hyung line
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ︎︎⚹︎ cw: angst, no fluff (yet), reader is mostly viewed as a loser and nerd, lowercase intended, kinda went overboard with hoon's, reader gets called a bitch once, not proofread!
sypnosis﹕after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.
part two !
★ LEE HEESEUNG (wc 0.3k)
you and lee heeseung has been dating for a total of five months, and throughout those months you can confidently say that you were the happiest. he was the perfect boyfriend, his family loved you and so did yours.
today, heeseung promised he would take you on a date after his basketball practice despite your protests on how he should be resting instead. you wouldn't have agreed if it weren't for the fact that he had shot you with his pleading big doe eyes that never fails to make you agree on whatever he asks for.
so here you were, making your way towards the gymnasium with your bag hanging on your left shoulder. the lack of dribbling and smacking basketball noise from behind the closed doors told you that their practice was done.
entering quietly out of habit, you were about to approach your boyfriend when you overheard his teammates talking to him.
"don't tell me you're still with her?" asked one of boys, an amused smile on his face. heeseung only raised a brow.
"what? you won the bet, you can dump her now. you're ruining our image you know? plus she's a total nerd and loser, you're much better with someone like yunhee." and with only just a few words, you felt your world crashing down.
right, who would date someone like you? you always found it weird, that heeseung just approached you one day in your biology class with the cheekiest smile on his face. the fact that he wouldn't leave you alone until you've agreed to go on a date with him. it all made sense now, why the popular basketball captain suddenly gained interest on the school's "biggest nerd."
"speaking of.." another guy spoke, nodding towards you with a cheeky smile. heeseung turned around only to be met with your glassy eyes.
you didn't move, wanting to hear him defend you. wanting to tell his teammates that you weren't a bet and he actually liked you throughout the months you two have been dating.
his silence said everything and with that you turned away and ran out of the gym.
"shit." he muttered, running after you.
★ PARK JONGSEONG (wc 0.3k)
"i'll pick you up later, okay?" your boyfriend of almost a year said softly through the phone. you've been dating jay since the first week of your first year in uni, others found your relationship weird. maybe because back in high school, jay never and refused to even spare you a glance. he was an asshole who looked at you as if you were the epitome of disgusting.
but the past is in the past now, right?
"okay baby, see you." you reply and put your phone down on your table, knowing that he's usually the one who ends the call.
you go back to the papers scattered on your table. the silence in your room was disturbed by sudden noises in your phone, turning to look, you see that jay hasn't ended the call.
picking your phone up with a smile, you were about to call out for him but a voice stopped you.
"i can't believe you've gone this far dude." you recognized the slightly muffled voice, it was a friend of jongseong's.
"what do you mean?" your boyfriend grumbled. the audio was muffled, you figured he was moving and the phone was in his pocket.
"you're still dating her!" the voice exclaimed, as if amused. "seriously, i didn't think you'd take that bet seriously. fine you win, i'll clean your car for a month. but you've gotta cut it out, you're starting to disgust me." the boy laughed.
before you could hear what your boyfriend would say, you ended the call. your hand was trembling and tears were falling from your eyes unconsciously.
were all those months just a joke to him? were your feelings really worth a free car wash for just a month? were you that unworthy?
jay was an asshole back in high school, you thought he changed. turns out he didn't, you felt like a fool for falling for his antics.
★ SIM JAEYUN (wc 0.3k)
if someone would be asked who you were, they'd all say the same thing. a loner, pathetic loser, and a nobody with a pretty face.
because what was a pretty face if you had no friends and a social life?
you almost believed you would die alone, you were too socially awkward to make friends. so when sim jaeyun, the transferee, approached you with a warm smile and a hand outstretched for a shake, you were beyond shocked.
your relationship went from being block mates, friends, then next thing you knew you two were dating. at first you were reluctant to enter a relationship, scared that it would ruin your friendship, but he insisted you both tried. that was three months ago.
you didn't have any friends, but atleast you had jake.
jake who smiles at you as if you had carved the stars in your hands. jake who would never forget to bring your coffee every morning. he was everything you ever needed. he was it for you, you only hoped he felt the same towards you.
walking through the hallway of the school, you stopped infront of your locker only to be met with a sticky note on it.
HOW LONG CAN JAKE LAST WITH LOSER L/N?
A WEEK : 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - III
FIVE MONTHS : 卌 - I
A YEAR : II
Furrowing your brows, you stare at the note as your breathing grew heavy. It was obvious that the paper was old, it had folds and it was only stuck on your locker with a washi tape.
"what are you doing l/n? go on, cast your vote." a mocking voice said from beside you followed by a bunch of laughter. "personally, i thought he'd last a day. i guess i'll vote for five months then." then the hand went and tallied on the five months category.
"what's going on here?" upon hearing your boyfriend's voice, you fled away immediately, not wanting to face him. everytime something good happens in your life, it's always ripped away from you. jake was just like them, you were just a toy for their own entertainment.
★ PARK SUNGHOON (wc 0.5k)
"i'm sorry baby, i really am busy with practice tomorrow." your boyfriend, sunghoon, says in genuine sorry. it was the fifth time you have asked him to meet your parents, who also by the way was so desperate to meet the boy you've been dating for seven months now.
every time you ask him, he's always busy. either with practice, a project, a family matter, or whatever excuse he can come up with. but you always brush it off, knowing he means well and he really is busy as he's an athlete student.
"i'll meet them next week, okay? i promise." that's also the same thing he says everytime too, and once again, you only nod in response.
you and sunghoon met in a physics class. he was clutching his head with a frown on his face as he desperately tried to understand what the professor was going on about.
you remember clearly the way he approached you in the library, a physics book on his left hand as his right scratched his nape. "can.. i noticed- uh, can you help me with this topic?"
that was where your relationship started. you tutored him and helped him improve his grade. when he got an A on the finals, he kissed you on the lips in glee. he was taken aback by his own actions but nevertheless asked you out after.
"i love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. "let me get something from my room." you hum in response as he takes his arm that was previously wrapped around you before going up to his room.
you can't help but notice the way his phone was blowing up from beside you.
you weren't the type to snoop around other people's phones, especially your boyfriend. it just felt wrong, you trusted him fully. but the way it kept ringing with text notifications, you just couldn't help it.
looking back to the stairs, you note he isn't back and there was still rummaging noises from his room.
taking his phone, you enter his passcode and read the messages from one of his group chats.
JONGSU
lol don't tell me she asked again.. em ba rrah sing
DAEHYUN
hahah when is she gonna take a hint?? 💀
JOON
you gonna blame her? hoon's been at it for months lmao
DAEHYUN
i actually can't believe he went that far, wasn't it only supposed to be for a month? 🗿
JONGSU
a week actually, but ig that bitch y/n was so easy. yk hoon likes to get his ego fed 💀💀
putting the phone down, you exhaled in disbelief. you took your bag from the floor and threw it over your shoulder and went to the door of his apartment to put your shoes back on.
"baby?" sunghoon emerged from the stairs, looking at you curiously. "you're going already?" he asked, extending an arm towards you but you slapped it away. the tears on your eyes shocking him.
"hey, hey what's wrong?" he tried again but his hand was yet again slapped away.
"i don't want to see you ever again." was the last words you uttered to him (shakily) before leaving his apartment.
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen#enhypen angst#enha fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#sunghoon angst#sunghoon imagines#heeseung angst#heeseung x reader#sunghoon x reader#jongseong angst#jongseong x reader#park jay x reader#jay x reader#sim jake x reader#sim jaeyun#sim jaeyun angst#jake angst#jake x reader
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I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.
When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.
When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.
Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.
And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.
Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.
Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.
Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.
That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.
Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.
Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.
Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.
Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.
#batfamily#batfamily headcanons#batman#nightwing#dick grayson#red hood#jason todd#red robin#tim drake#robin dc#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#duke thomas#barbra gordon#batgirl#drabble#batfam#alfred pennyworth#dc comics#comics#superheroes#how many rooms does the manor have? no one knows#i'd assume a lot though#like so many#i hope i did okay with Cass and Duke#i don't know a ton about them
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