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#From the Academy of Revelations
clockworkbee · 3 months
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heyy
can u pls recommend some decent sapphic fae romance books?
thanks <3
Hey! I wish I could and I hate that I can't, not in a faerie book, esp. with the main couple being sapphic 🥺 still, what I can tell you,
The Folk of The Air has a sapphic romance between side characters (with not that much page time) and that couple is soon getting a short story of their own in an anthology called Faeries Never Lie: Tales to Revel In.
The Dark Artifices (a trilogy in the shadowhunters chronicles) also has a side sapphic ship (not much page time) but that couple does have a few lovely cameos in other books set in that world such as, Red Scrolls of Magic and Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.
I'm not big on fae romances, I'm just a Holly Black faeries lover-girl 🥺 I have read some other faerie books (the enchantment of ravens, acotar & tog - all straight romances, not that I love any of these) so like, if you've read some really good ones, tell me your one most favourite sapphic fae book/series?
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taiturner · 2 years
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VIKTOR HARGREEVES 3x01 | “Meet the Family”
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yzzart · 4 months
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"𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫."
pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.
summary: the only one who could calm a winter was you.
warnings: +18!, oral sex, f!receiving, biting, mention of manipulation, sexual content, explicit content and explicit words + take a look at the masterlist!
word count: 1.055!
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Feelings of dissatisfaction, injustice and stress dominated Coriolanus Snow's chest daily; not to mention the sparks of anger that his heart fired every day. — Stunned thoughts circled the boy's head.
And it was, in fact, impressive how Coriolanus knew how to disguise, and even control, what he felt; no one from the Capital could describe or bring out anything bad in his beautiful, young face. — Besides Casca Highbottom, of course; one of the reasons for the boy's countless headaches. — He remained neutral, sometimes with a compassionate smile and moved on.
He acted as if nothing and no frustration were in his life.
However, Coriolanus had a peculiar and unique way of releasing everything he felt, all those mixed emotions and sensations; and involved you. — Specifically, being between your thighs.
Coriolanus loved —no, he loved— devouring you. Boy Snow, if he had the chance or the power, could stay all day, all the time, with his face in your beautiful, oh-so-good pussy; and that is not an exaggeration, ever. — He never believed in words of belief or rumors of the second plane of life that was perfect, but Snow had found paradise between your thighs.
Before eating your pussy, Coriolanus always leaves small, wet kisses near the area; at certain moments, some small provocative bites. — Such a affectionate, sweet and intimate gesture and you fell even more in love with that white-haired boy. — Soon, he attacked like a hunt after its prey.
Coriolanus's poisonous tongue ran through your folds, sucking them with pleasure and desire; quickly, paying attention to your swollen and needy clitoris with great pleasure. — He licked, sucked and sucked your little bud with exuberance and dedication; the Snow boy gave his best, especially to you.
The environment in his room, besides being hot and dimly lit, was full of moans and whimpers that escaped your lips. — God, your moans were so sweet, naive and formed a melody in Coriolanus' ears; the sounds that came out of your mouth were divine. — A piously work of art.
The name of your lover, which came out inappropriately and stuttered, echoed through the walls and if you doubted it, it could be heard in the other rooms of your house. — Mentally, you were grateful for your parents' prolonged absence. — Like the song of an extravagant bird.
Those crystal blue eyes, clouded with pure desire and lust, gazed at you; more than usual, in fact. — Your beautiful and so cute little face reveling in pleasure, your cheeks in a reddish tone and some strands of hair stuck to your forehead; discreet tears were present on one of her cheeks. — You were the most beautiful thing Coriolanus saw in his entire life.
And the fact that you belonged to him made his ego-swollen chest even better.
There were no more financial problems, family matters to be resolved or the academy or fucking Highbottom, there was no longer anything that made his life hell. — Only you were on his mind, his attention and focus.
"Coryo…!" — His name came out in a slurred and fragile way as more tears slowly fell from your graceful face; a shock when you felt the contact of Coriolanus' teeth on your clitoris awakened in your body. — He would be, at least, a little cruel to you, however, you denied that with all your strength.
A vibration in your wet region accompanied your warm body, an enigmatic laugh from the Snow boy upon witnessing your reaction. — Making a point of making one more contact, but leaving a gentle nibble; eliciting a thin scream from you.
Your legs were shaking, your chest was rising and falling without any kind of control, not to mention that your head and mind were completely melted; no thought with notion or consciousness presented itself. — Pleasure, distress, pain and a burning sensation of being used by Snow ripped through your heart. — On the bright side, you were helping your dear lover, right?
"C-Coryo, Coryo!" — The stimulation and speed of his tongue began to accelerate and become more abrupt, becoming too much for you. — "I'll go... I'll go." — You couldn't even complete a mediocre sentence.
You were so naive, such a precious little thing, trying to warn him that you were about to cum as if Coriolanus didn't recognize your body. — He knew when you were about to cum, Coriolanus knew your body better than you. — Like a book he read countless times to the point where he memorized every word written in it.
Oh, the Snow boy was proud of that.
"Come on, my little bird." — Coriolanus hated, perhaps that's too strong a word, birds, but you were an exception; a beautiful and unique exception. — "I want you to let it all out." — It wasn't a request, a loving request, it was an order along with a pinch made by his lips.
Regardless, your orgasm was intense, causing a strong delirium in your delightful and sensitive mind. — Coriolanus was definitely in paradise and his taste was magnificent; a flavor he could never get sick of. — He licked and sucked your release, delighting himself and getting it dirty on his sculpted chin.
Coriolanus's large, thin hands opened your thighs even further with the intention of not leaving even a drop of your juices. — Like a hungry animal, not even leaving the carcass for others.
The heavy feeling of exhaustion and a drowsy wave controlled your body slowly even though you forced yourself to stay awake and full. — Snow sucked your energy, leaving nothing left for you. — An exhausted smile formed on your lips as you looked at Coriolanus; now, he left affectionate and grateful kisses on your thighs. — You loved that damn young man.
"My good girl…" — Coriolanus felt your heavy gazes. — "…you did such a good job for me." — Your heart accelerated, you didn't know how to answer if it was about what had happened or the affectionate way he praised your; you didn’t care either way.
You didn't even have the strength to answer him, so just your sweet and tired smile was enough for Coriolanus. — He was so proud, more than he already was, and he longed for more; he always wanted more.
And in the end, he would have. — Like every animal, it would get its prey in the blink of an eye.
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phfenomena · 3 months
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❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader
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| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.
| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻
| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)
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the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.
he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.
he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.
she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.
“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.
she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.
“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.
“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.
“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”
the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.
that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.
“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.
“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.
she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.
as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.
the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.
after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.
the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.
coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.
“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.
coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”
he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.
“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.
“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”
she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?
“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.
she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.
“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”
he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.
the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.
as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.
coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.
“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.
their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.
she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.
her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.
festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.
she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.
“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.
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frankenkyle19 · 1 month
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Necklaces and Potato Chips
Coriolanus Snow x Female reader (smut)
warnings/description: smut; oral (m and f receiving), kissing, Virgin!Coryo. Reader and Coryo are both 18 in this. Mentions of Coriolanus’ poverty, etc.
Word count: 3.4k
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Coriolanus Snow was never much of a gentle man. He was poised and perfect. There was never any room to make mistakes around him, because even if he didn’t specifically point it out, he somehow always knew. And would relentlessly tease you for it. 
You saw right through him though. His carefully crafted exterior, hiding underneath it a fragile ego that was nearly a decade in mending. After the war and the death of his father, the Snow family had nearly no money to their name. They lived up in their penthouse, worn and falling apart from the war. 
Not even a pot to piss in.
You’d never told anyone that you’d overheard Dean Casca Highbottom speaking to Coriolanus in such a way, and seeing the fear in Coriolanus’ eyes. It clicked. It was all true. He wasn’t eating steak for breakfast. He didn’t have maids waiting on his hand and foot. Hell, you’d seen the way his outfit frayed at the edges from countless washings. He couldn’t afford a new one.
At first the revelation rocked you to the core. He’d kept up appearances so well… but for what? For high social standing? To avoid the gossip? Yes. 
Your own family wasn’t filthy rich. Nothing like the Plinth family, who it seemed everyone but you despised. But your family was living comfortably in the Capitol, in a modest but neatly decorated apartment that made you feel secure.
You didn’t show you knew. You didn’t look at Coriolanus like he was anything less than. Why would you? You’d never understood the needless drama and gossip that surrounded the kids at the academy. It was unbearable at times. You had to be perfect 24/7 so your name was kept out of people’s mouths, and even then that wasn’t guaranteed to work. Sejanus Plinth was a great example. His family, originally from District 2, came over during the war when his father had sided with the Capitol and helped them subdue the other Districts. Traitor much? At least that’s what Sejanus had called him the few times you’d spoken with him. Been the only one to give the poor boy any attention. Coriolanus had as well, but you could tell from the look in his eyes he was less than happy about it.
Coriolanus had always been around. He was at nearly all your birthday parties throughout your childhood, until about when you turned thirteen. Then he just… stopped going. Maybe because he didn’t have a gift to bring. Not that you cared, but because apparently everyone else did even though it was none of their business.
You just let it go, glancing his way in the hall every now and then. Only sometimes he would look back. 
Until your sixteenth birthday party. Suddenly he just… appeared. You were having it in the mess hall at the academy on a Saturday afternoon. You weren’t even sure how your mother and father had booked it, but you didn’t ask. You’d learned by now not to ask lots of questions.
But when you saw that blond head of curls bobbing through the crowd, you had several dozen questions that you needed answered lest you go insane. Why? Why after three years had he suddenly decided to show up?
You hoped that he’d at least be able to enjoy the food, maybe even sneak some home to his family. Maybe that could be arranged. You felt bad for them, but not in a babying way. Just a genuine person who felt bad for another’s misfortune that was no fault of their own.
You don’t pursue him. Didn’t make your way over to him. You didn’t want to scare him off. He’d come to you if and when he was ready.
And he had. He’d come up and given you a shy greeting, wishing you a happy birthday in a voice much too meek for the Coriolanus Snow.
He’d also left you with a little wrapped gift and the second he gave it to you, he practically bolted. Left the party and you didn’t seem him till the next Monday in clases.
You’d waited till you’d gotten home to open the gift, and inside of the carefully wrapped paper was a necklace. A beautiful sparkling necklace. You had no idea where he’d gotten it from, but it looked almost antique, a red shining…. No it couldn’t be. A red ruby? But you knew there was no way they could afford that. So you’d come to the conclusion that either he’d stolen it, or he’d gotten it from his grandmother, or kept it after his mother passed away. It made your heart clench.
You wore it every day since and everyone ooo’d and ahh’d over it, asking where you’d gotten it, but you never told. You weren’t sure if he’d wanted everyone to know. With the way he quickly scurried away after giving it to you, your guess was no, he didn’t. 
He was at your seventeenth birthday party as well, though he hadn’t brought a gift that time and he only wished you a quick happy birthday before disappearing into the crowd of people. Weird. He was so weird.
The two of you spoke here and there until your eighteenth birthday. He’d turned eighteen just a few weeks to a month before you, and just like the last two years, he came to your party. It was a smaller party this time around. Your father and mother had insisted on going all out. You only turn eighteen once, but you’d refused. You didn’t want a bunch of people. Didn’t want to have to worry so hard about keeping up an appearance. 
Coriolanus, once again kept his distance from you, even with the smaller group of people, but he stayed for the whole party. You’d always made it a point to let him come to you, when he was comfortable. Like trying to gain a feral animal's trust.
As the party began to subside and everyone began to leave, you tried to make your way over to the blue eyed boy. You’d just reached him when he was at the food table set up before he turned and walked away.
This time around the party had been at your family’s apartment, reason for the much smaller group of people. You furrowed your brows as you followed him down the dimly lit hallway. He paused outside of your bedroom door before walking in. What the fuck?
You followed him, listening outside the door after he’d closed it, ear pressed against the wood. Really you should have burst in there. Should have yelled at him and asked him just what the hell he was doing in your bedroom. 
Until you heard a little sigh, a release of breath before the crunch of a chip, and then another. He must have stuffed some of the the refreshments into his pockets before scurrying off somewhere to eat them in peace. Your heart broke for him. Broke for the young boy you used to see sitting alone at lunch at the academy. Who only had superficial friends. Never anyone who truly liked him for who he was.
You stayed with your ear pressed against the door for a while, debating on what to do when you saw someone making their way down the dark hall. You couldn’t make it out but it looked like your father. Shit. If he saw Coriolanus in your room he’d flip out, totally get the wrong idea.
So, without much thought at all, you reached for the doorknob and shoved your way quickly into your room before closing the door behind you. You heaved a breath out, facing the door before you whipped around and faced the man that was, for some reason, in your room.
His blue eyes were wide, chip crumbs on his lips, a chip in his hand as he looked at you with the saddest eyes ever. Fuck, he’d been caught. 
His mind began to reel. God, he could only imagine the gossip that would start from this. It would be all over for him. He’d die of embarrassment he was sure of it.
But you didn’t instantly run out to tell everyone how you’d found him. You stayed planted in front of him, looking him over. He wore an off white dress shirt and a little black vest that fit his chest snug. Had he always been this pretty? Had his eyes always been so blue? 
He cleared his throat, stuffing the chip back into his pocket as he reached for the doorknob over your shoulder. He was trying to run. Just like he always did.
You grabbed his arm before he could reach the knob and you held his bicep with your hand, squeezing just tight enough so he knew you weren’t letting him leave. Not like that.
“I-“ He started, looking at you with a panicked expression. A dear in headlights if you will. It was, again, sad to see. He was always so put together and seeing him with the beginnings of tears in his ocean blue eyes made your expression soften.
Your free hand reached up to wipe the chip crumbs from the corners of his mouth but Coriolanus must have thought that you were going to slap him or something with the way he flinched. This poor boy…
“Coriolanus…” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand and leaving it there. He seemed to lean into your touch the slightest bit, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky sigh.
“Yeah?” He responded, blue eyes peering down at you. He was waiting for the ball to drop. For you to yell at him. To hit him and kick him. 
“Why are you in my room?”
“I didn’t know it was your room- I’m sorry- I just… I wanted a few more chips before I left but I’d already eaten enough to almost be suspicious and I didn’t want anyone to see. I’m really sorry-'' hearing an apology from Coriolanus Snow’s mouth was a weird thing. It didn’t seem to belong there. He seemed so unapologetic.
“Coriolanus-“ you sighed, giving him a sympathetic look that had him shaking his head and pulling away from your touch, standing up to his full height.
“Don’t look at me like that,” He started, embarrassment covering his features as he turned away from you.
You followed him. He wasn’t getting out of this that easily. Hell no. Not after all the years of confusion he’d given you.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and he tensed once more, but for this time it seemed to be a different reason. The air around the two of you changed. Electrified. Currents of energy spun around you, danced in circles, growing stronger by the second. All this time. All these years. Had it all led up to this?
Coriolanus turned around, most likely to apologize again but you caught him by surprise, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down to meet your lips.
It was just like you’d imagined it. Warm, soft, electric. He was stunned into shock for several seconds before he melted into it, closing his eyes and kissing back. There was a hunger behind his kisses, one that showed desperation. A need for this. He’d wanted this just as long as you’d have, if not longer. More pieces of the puzzle fit together at that moment. All those years.. All those parties. He was trying to get your attention but he didn’t know how. He was trying…
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him, your lips molding together. A need overtook you in that moment and as the kiss got more heated, your hands found their way to his belt that held his black slacks up, and you brushed your fingers against his bulge.
He pulled back with a shocked noise in the back of his throat, chest rising and falling heavily as he looked down at you. 
“I’ve never-“ he started breathlessly as he watched you, almost warily.
Oh. He was a virgin… You weren’t. You’d lost your virginity to Festus Creed some time last year. It was very uneventful but you still had more experience than Coriolanus. Something about that made you clench your thighs together. You wanted to ruin him.
“Coriolanus…” you cooed, your hands coming to rest on the loops of his belt, but slowly, giving him time to pull away if he really did decide he didn’t want this.
“Let me? I can make you feel so good…” Your tone had dropped, and Coriolanus swore your eyes darkened as you stared at him.
He thought about it for several moments before he gave a sheepish nod. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself, but he had been fantasizing about you for so long now…
“Yes…” He breathed. “Yes I want that..” 
A few more seconds of silence before you two fell into even more bruising kisses. Despite how much taller he was compared to you, you were able to lead him to your bed very easily, pushing him back onto it before crawling over him.
Your hands were everywhere and Coriolanus was overwhelmed as he tossed his head back into the pillows. The pillows that smelled like you.
“I don’t want to go all the way…” he blurted out, cheeks flushed.
You looked up at him, giving him a gentle smile. “Of course. You let me know if I’m doing too much and we stop.” You said firmly so he understood.
Your hands came to his belt and slowly began to undo it before sliding it from the loops on his dress pants.
He sat up and helped you kick off his too tight, too small pants with a huff before he laid back, now only in his black boxers. He strained against them and your mouth watered a bit, not even having seen his cock yet.
“Going to use my mouth on you, pretty boy. Going to make this the best night of your life,” Your finger slid under his waistband and before he even knew it, you were pulling his underwear down his legs and his cock sprang free, slapping against his lower stomach.
For how frail he looked, he was packing. He was longer than he was thick, and the idea of him inside you made you a bit dizzy. But not tonight. He’d said he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. 
Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him, causing his eyes to go wide and his hips to buck up into the touch. He was nearly searing in your hand, drops of pre-cum leaking steadily from the tip. 
He was in heaven, eyes closed, head tossed back, and when he felt you press a kiss to his tip, a tiny little whine left his parted lips.
“Shh my sweet thing, it’s okay, giving you all the love you need. You’ve got such a pretty cock,” you accentuated your words with a few more kisses to the tip, his pre-cum coating your lips before you licked it off. 
Coriolanus moaned softly, eyes open as he looked down at you. He twitched in your hand, legs trembling beneath you as he waited for your next move.
Your lips wrapped around him and he waited for you to take him deeper in your mouth, but you stayed just at the tip, suckling gently on him. He was so fucking sensitive that it almost hurt from how good it felt.
“Fuck,” He cursed, and that’s how you knew he was loving this. In all your years, you’d never heard him curse.
You made sure to keep eye contact with him, letting your tongue roll over the tip, collecting the beads of liquid that fell.
Finally, after you really got him whining, you took him further into your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose and hollowing your cheeks as he arched his back up off the bed.
Your throat seized around him and you nearly gagged, having to pull back just a bit. Your throat was already scratchy from it and you could only imagine just how sore it would be tomorrow after deep-throating him. But that’s all it was. Imagining. Because without any warning he came down your throat with a choked groan, tummy tensing. 
You swallowed his release with a slight grimace, easing him through his release before pulling off of him.
He had a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleepy for several moments before he finally managed to peel his eyes open and look down at you with a fucked out expression, a lazy smile on his lips.
“Jesus…” he murmured, sitting up on his elbows to look at you. He looked you over, still completely clothed and an idea came to his mind.
“Can I do that to you too?” You wanted to tease him a bit. Suck your dick? No Coriolanus couldn’t do that because you didn’t have one. Silly. But you didn’t say that, you just nodded your head as you looked at him.
“If you want to, yeah. Of course sweetheart. Anything you want.”
Anything.
What a dangerous word.
In an instant he had you flipped and was pulling your little skirt down your legs right along with your panties. You crossed your legs shyly but Coriolanus wasn’t having that as he used his hands to part them, sliding in between them and getting comfortable.
“How do I…?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your dripping cunt.
You too one of his hands and brought it to your core. He gasped at the warmth and the wetness of it. You helped him run his fingers across your folds, dipping into you just a bit before pulling back.
Soon though he grew bored of that and dipped his head down, inches away from your core. He really was going to eat you out… you were surprised.
He surged forward that last little bit, his mouth connecting with your clit, sending a shockwave up you.
He closed his eyes, well, more like they rolled into the back of his head once he properly tasted you. And then he was off, lapping at your folds, getting really messy with it. He needed almost no guidance. It was like he was born to eat pussy.
“Fuck, Coriolanus- Coryo-“ He really seemed to like that with the way he moaned against your core, beginning to fuck you with his pretty pink tongue.
You already felt extremely close and you weren’t sure if it was because he was good at what he was doing, or if you’d just been needing this for so long that anything felt good.
“Oh fuck Coryo, I’m going to come if you keep that up- good boy, that’s it-“ You hissed out in pleasure, head thrown back. Your fingers carded into his hair and he let out a little whine as you tugged on his blond curls.
He felt the way your body tensed and he knew you were close. That did wonders to boost his ego, and he really doubled down on eating you out, tongue fucking you hard now, his nose brushing your clit.
You came hard on his tongue, practically grinding up against his face, and he let you, too pussy drunk to complain. Not that he ever would. He never realized how much he enjoyed this. 
He kept at it until you were whining and pushing him away. He himself let out a little disgruntled whine, obviously upset that he had to stop, before you pulled him up to cuddle next to you.
The two of you were still half dressed, shaking and recovering from your releases.
Coryo watched you with a smile on his lips that were still coated in your slick.
“Jesus, coryo. Clean yourself off.” You shook your head with a laugh before you gasped when he surged toward and kissed you once more. You cupped his cheek and kissed back after a moment, grinning against him. 
He pulled back for a moment and reached for your neck. You gave him a confused look before you saw him take your necklace chain in his hand, looking it over. The necklace. You’d almost forgotten. You’d worn it every single day since he’d gifted it to you.
“Stay here tonight?” You asked with a soft smile. You didn’t care what your parents said. You were an adult now, and hell, they didn’t even need to know that Coriolanus was here. 
He gave a quizzical look before he seemed to realize you were being serious and then he nodded.
“I’d like that. A lot.”
And that was how you ended up on Coriolanus Snow’s arm. The only person who he truly trusted outside of his family. 
659 notes · View notes
itsbuckytm · 4 months
Text
Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow
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summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.
notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.
ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!
Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate. 
Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you. 
He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you. 
To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games. 
Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.
Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear. 
While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.
The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return. 
However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.
This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.
On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.
Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words. 
Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."
His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable. 
“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.” 
A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation. 
He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command. 
"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back." 
Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence. 
"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.
"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."
Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.
595 notes · View notes
sokoviansimp · 2 months
Text
Control
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✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader
✒ Summary: Tension builds when Wanda and Y/N, who hate each other, are sent on a mission with Y/N's best friend, Natasha, and her wife Maria. The mission doesn't exactly go to plan.
✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, kidnapping, chemicals, hospital, bickering, enemies to lovers, slow burn
✒ Author's Note: not proofread, because I'm really high rn and want to get this out because it's been in my drafts for like a month but I've been so busy with moving, and working 2 jobs, and just life changes.
✒ Word Count: 9523
✒ Read Time: 24 minutes
Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist
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The dimly lit, high-tech briefing room at the SHIELD headquarters buzzed with anticipation. Agents of all kinds filled the seats, their eyes trained on the enormous screen at the front. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, stood at the head of the room, her signature poise and confidence emanating from her.
You sat nearby, attention locked onto the screen. You had earned your place among the elite Shield agents through sheer skill and determination, graduating early from the academy. Your sharp mind and lightning-quick reflexes made you one of the best in the business. 
Natasha, after glancing over to her wife, Maria, began the mission briefing. "Our intel suggests that a rogue group of Hydra operatives has obtained a dangerous chemical compound. We need to secure it before they can use it for any nefarious purposes. We’ll be sending a small team in to infiltrate, if all goes to plan we should be in and out within 2 days. Y/N, you’ll partner with Wanda, and Maria will come with me,” Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes and let out a small huff at being paired with you, “The tac team will meet us on day 2 by the south entrance to secure the base. Everyone clear?” Nat finished as she looked around the room to see a bunch of heads bobbing in confirmation. 
Once everyone had filed out, you and Wanda hung back to discuss infiltration plans with Maria and Natasha. Nat explained that the trek to get to the area undetected would take a day, you would sleep at a small cabin safe house on the outskirts of the forest, and then the next day you would stealthily breach the border to the Hydra base and seize control of the chemical before letting the tac team in to finish up. 
“Sounds like a plan, but why do y/n and I have to be partners on this?” Wanda added trying everything she could to get out of being stuck with you by her side. 
“Now, I know you two love to bicker, but we’re all adults here. I’m sure you two can push your differences aside for 2 days.” Natasha explained as she shot Wanda a pointed look. She knew the brunette had her grievances about you and, as much as Nat loved you, she also knew how annoying you could be on the surface, but you two were also the ones Nat trusted most, aside from her wife, to have her six.
“I don’t see that being a problem, do you Wanda?” you confirmed with a smug smirk on your face, knowing you would have ample time to get under Wanda’s skin. Bickering with the brunette was something you would never admit you actually enjoyed, but you did. You loved getting her going and sometimes you could even imagine the smoke blowing out of her ears from how much you drove her crazy. You found herself drawn to Wanda's reactions, the way her cheeks would flush with annoyance, or her lips would curl into a sly smile when she caught on to your teasing. You unknowingly reveled in the attention it garnered from Wanda.
Wanda’s gaze shifted back to the screen as her brows knit tightly together forming a slight furrow in the middle of her forehead, “Guess not, when do we leave” she asked tightly pressing her lips together.
“Wheels up in 30” Nat informed as everyone filed out to pack. 
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You leaned against a nearby table, eyeing Wanda as she adjusted her gear. "Wanda, are you sure you're ready for this mission? I mean, it's not as easy as manipulating some red energy."
Wanda shot you a withering look, her scarlet eyes flashing. "Not everything can be solved by punching first and asking questions later, Sprints. Some of us have to use our brains."
Wanda had given you the nickname, Sprints, one day when you were training in the compound with Nat. Shield agents don't typically train at the compound, but your close friendship with Natasha made you an exception. This day, you had been bragging about setting a new in-house record for the 100-meter dash.
You chuckled, unfazed. "Brains, huh? Well, I'm glad one of us has 'em."
Wanda smirked, her accent lacing her words with a hint of sarcasm. "And I'm glad one of us doesn't rely solely on brute force."
You couldn't resist a playful jab. "True, but at least when I hit something, it stays down. Can't say the same for your mind tricks."
Wanda's lips curled into a wry smile. "Wanna test that theory?" she said pointedly as she raised her hand and her magic swirled around in her fingertips. 
Just then, Nat entered breaking up the standoff between you and Wanda, “Knock it off you two, the jet is taking off in 5, get loaded up,” Nat instructed as she watched Wanda walk by you and slightly nudge your shoulder as you innocently raised your hands toward Natasha, “Now.” she said firmly causing you to scurry off with your bag in Wanda’s trail. 
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As the quin-jet roared to life, and with Nat and Maria both in the cockpit, you couldn't resist the urge to tease Wanda. You knew how to push the right buttons, and her playful, sometimes very real, annoyance was on full display.
You leaned across the narrow aisle, grinning mischievously at Wanda, who was quietly reading a book on her tablet. "Hey, Wanda," you began, your tone a touch too cheerful, "since we're going up against Hydra today, maybe you can use your mind tricks to make them forget they ever messed with us."
Wanda glanced at her with a bemused expression, clearly unimpressed. "Y/N, my powers don't work that way, and you know it."
Y/N pretended to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin with a playful smirk. "Hmm, shame. It would've made our job so much easier. But hey, don't worry. I'm sure you'll find some other way to be useful."
Wanda sighed, shaking her head as she shifted her focus back to her book. She was clearly unamused by your antics.
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As the quin-jet touched down in a remote area, nearly 10 miles from their target location, the four of you gathered your gear and prepared to embark on your covert trek. The evening was closing in quickly and with the loss of the sun, it would start getting cold soon.
Natasha, the team leader, huddled the group together for a final briefing. "Remember, we need to reach the cabin undetected. This is a highly secured area, and any alert could jeopardize the mission. Y/N and Wanda, I need you two to put your differences aside and work together. Our success depends on it." 
Y/N exchanged a begrudging glance with Wanda but nodded in agreement. "Got it, Nat. I'll try not to annoy Wanda too much."
Wanda rolled her eyes but remained silent, her focus on the task at hand.
The team set out on their trek, moving silently through the dense forest, their footsteps muffled by the fallen leaves and underbrush. Y/N and Wanda found themselves side by side, each step of the way requiring them to cooperate and coordinate their movements to avoid detection.
Every now and then, an armored personnel carrier would drive by causing the team to utilize nearby ravines, trenches, and coves to avoid detection. At one point, they hid out in a culvert for a few minutes waiting for the oncoming trail of vehicles to pass. A crinkling sound eventually made its way to Wanda’s ears and her head snapped to you as you tore open a granola bar, “Really, is now the best time for that?” Wanda whispered, trying to keep quiet as she scolded you, “Oh yes, you do not want to see me when I’m hangry,” you quietly responded as Natasha hushed you both to keep quiet. 
Despite your earlier banter and rivalry, you and Wanda fell into a rhythm as you navigated the challenging terrain. You took point, your sharp instincts and knowledge of the wilderness guiding the path. Wanda, with her enhanced senses, scanned for any signs of danger or hidden threats.
As you moved deeper into the night, the initial tension between the two of you began to dissipate. You began communicating with subtle gestures and exchanged information about the terrain and possible obstacles. Gradually, a sense of unity began to form between you two, as you realized that your success truly depended on your ability to work together.
Hours passed, and the mission team finally arrived at the remote cabin where they would be staying for the night. Nat and Maria thoroughly cleared it to make sure there were no unexpected guests. Once it was clear, you and Wanda made your way in. The cabin was rustic, with only two bedrooms, and it quickly became apparent that accommodations would be tight.
Natasha and Maria, who were married, naturally gravitated toward one of the bedrooms and claimed it as their own. They exchanged a knowing look, then turned to the rest of the team.
Wanda, ever the enigmatic one, made her preferences clear with a cool, unwavering stare. "I'm not sharing a room with Y/N," she stated firmly.
Realizing the implications, you tried to defuse the situation. "No problem, Wanda. I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor. It's not a big deal."
But Natasha, always the pragmatic leader, stepped in. "Actually, it is a big deal. We need both of you at your best tomorrow. We can't afford any tension or lack of rest. You two are sharing the other bed, there’s plenty of room."
Wanda's lips formed a thin line of irritation, but Natasha's word was final. She begrudgingly agreed, her tone laced with annoyance. "Fine, but I'm taking the left side of the bed."
You nodded following Wanda to the other room, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Works for me, Wanda. I promise not to steal the covers."
With the sleeping arrangements decided, the team settled into their respective rooms, though the atmosphere in the second bedroom was palpably tense. You and Wanda each occupying your respective sides with a noticeable gap between. Tension hung in the air, and you both lay stiffly under the covers, each determined not to give an inch.
The initial discomfort led to a silent battle for the covers. Your fingers twitched slightly as you subtly attempted to pull the blanket your way. Wanda, sensing the movement, tightened her grip on the fabric. This quiet tug-of-war continued for a while, neither of you willing to relinquish control.
But as time passed, exhaustion began to take its toll. The temperature in the room dropped, and the comfort of the covers became increasingly irresistible. Unbeknownst to either of you, both of you gradually drifted into a fitful slumber, with both your subconscious minds seeking warmth and comfort.
In the dead of night, your bodies shifted ever so slightly. In your sleep, you unconsciously turned toward Wanda, your back now touching Wanda's side. Wanda, still asleep, feeling the unexpected contact, hesitated for a moment but soon found herself subconsciously gravitating closer to your warmth.
Your movements continued to synchronize in the depths of sleep. Slowly but surely, the gap between you vanished as you instinctively nestled into each other. Your arm draped over Wanda's waist, and Wanda's head nestled into the crook of your neck. The covers you had fought over earlier now cocooning you both, providing warmth and security.
Though you had started the night as adversaries, the quiet intimacy of your subconscious movements told a different story. In the stillness of the cabin, with the moonlight filtering through the curtains, you and Wanda had found an unexpected source of comfort in each other's presence. It was as if you two were pieces in a puzzle that fit perfectly with one another as your exhaustion-riddled bodies melded together after a long day. 
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The morning sun filtered through the cabin's curtains, casting a warm and gentle glow across the room. As you and Wanda began to stir, you each gradually became aware of your compromising position. Your bodies were entangled, limbs intertwined, and faces mere inches apart.
For a brief moment, your eyes fluttered open and met Wanda’s gaze, your heartbeat picked up nearly drowning out any source of sound for you as your cheeks reddened, you knew you should want to move, should be upset, but you froze like a deer in headlights, like if you stayed still then she wouldn’t notice and would stay as well. For a moment, you enjoyed the comfort of the witch’s grasp. That was quickly replaced by your mutual disdain from the previous night as the tension resurfaced with the disgusted look Wanda shot over to you. You locked eyes, both startled by the proximity and the realization of how closely you had been clinging to each other in your sleep.
Wanda quickly pulled away, her cheeks coloring slightly with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. She shifted to her side of the bed and cleared her throat, avoiding your gaze. "This is... not how I expected to wake up."
Equally flustered, you hastily withdrew your arm and adjusted your position to sit on the edge of the bed, cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly my ideal morning either."
The tension that had momentarily dissipated during the night returned in full force. Both of you were acutely aware of the compromising position you had awoken in, and it only served to highlight your ongoing rivalry and mutual discomfort.
As you both jumped to get out of bed and prepared for the day ahead, your distaste for each other remained palpable. The events of the night had not erased your differences or any of the underlying tension, and you were both eager to put some distance between each other and the uncomfortable intimacy you had experienced in your sleep. Was it really uncomfortable though? You couldn’t deny, it was the best you had slept in weeks. No, it was. Just remembering the look of pure disgust on Wanda’s face puts the bad taste right back in your mouth.
“You two are up early, figured I’d have to come in clanging some pans the way you two like to sleep in.” Nat teased as you and Wanda entered the kitchen, “How’d you sleep?” 
“Goo-” you began but were cut off but the louder brunette beside you, “TERRIBLE” she groaned in response, not wanting to re-live what she woke up to. 
Nat glanced at Y/N knowingly, “What was that, Y/N?” she continued to tease as she poured the coffee that she had just made into 2 mugs in front of her for each of you. 
“Yea, grossly bad. Just- what she said” you stammered to get out, trying to remember what exactly was so bad about it. Then you remembered the look on Wanda’s face full of disgust again, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that she felt that way toward you. 
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Once you were all geared up and ready to leave the cabin, Natasha went over the plan one more time before you all stealthily headed back out into the forest. The weak spot that you were looking to infiltrate was about 5 miles from the cabin and you thanked whatever gods may exist that it wasn't winter yet. The air was cold against your cheeks, enough to tinge them a slight red from the wind burn, but not so frigid that you were shivering or unable to focus. 
Wanda, on the other hand, curled in on herself any chance she could in order to keep warm and ward off the shivers that threatened to take over her body. As you were waiting in another culvert for a line of trucks to pass by, you noticed from the way Wanda was curled up that she was struggling. Knowing you could survive without the jacket you were wearing, you went to offer it to the witch, “Cold?” you whispered softly and placed your hand on her shoulder to get her attention from behind. 
Her eyes snapped over to meet your gaze and she pulled her arm away from your touch like you were a deadly disease, “I’m fine,” she whispered back icy and dismissive, making a mental note to hide her discomfort better. Her disgust for you was clear, little did she know, you were only trying to help.
Taken aback by her response, your initial concern became clouded with frustration. All you wanted to do was see her light up in your direction and yet everything you did caused her to hate you more. If she’s going to act this way, may as well give her a reason. Two can play this game, “Oh right, I forgot you’re made of tougher skin than the rest of us peasants,” you mocked, keeping your tone low so as to not give up your position. 
The look that Wanda shot back your way sent shivers down your spine, “Should’ve come more prepared, like me,” you say flaunting your jacket and digging the metaphorical knife deeper as Nat waved an ‘all clear’ signal.
“There it is,” Wanda snapped back at you,  “every chance you get to be a coc-“ Natasha cut Wanda off, silencing her, before she could finish her point.
You caught Wanda’s gaze as it happened and pointed at your ears tauntingly. Her jaw tightened and her anger brewed as she continued to move through the culvert, following Nat and Maria’s lead.
As the team made its way out of the culvert and trekked along the route, you noticed Wanda was no longer shivering, all the pent-up anger toward you providing her warmth that would last at least a couple of minutes as you smirked to yourself.
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Once inside, Natasha and Maria took point in clearing a path and disabling guards with precision and stealth. You and Wanda had been tasked with obtaining the chemical agent that had been noted on the radar. The crucial task brought you both further into the facility, and as much as you each had trouble being in one another’s presence, you put your differences aside to work well as a team.
As you moved deeper into enemy territory, you settled back into the unspoken language of signals you had used the previous day together. Wanda was easily able to disable the camera feeds with her telekinesis while you took out any remaining guards and covered your tracks.
Soon enough, you both came to a secure-looking door, its lock was intricate and seemed heavily fortified with barometric readings and sensors. Without hesitation, Wanda focused her energy on the lock’s mechanism, using her powers to manipulate the gears and pins. You had her back, keeping watch on the corrodor, as she fell vulnerable to an attack from behind with her mind focused elsewhere.
A stray guard came out of a room down the hall making his way in your direction as he began to yell and pull out his gun, “Don’t lose focus Wanda, I got your back,” you assured her as you swiftly disabled the guard. As much as Wanda may hate you, she knew deep down that she could trust you and kept her focus on the door.
Once you settled back beside Wanda, you couldn’t help but let out a snarky comment as she was otherwise engaged with her powers, “You know, Wanda, it’s almost like having magic hands comes in handy on a mission like this,” 
Wanda shot you a side-eye glance with just a hint of a smirk on her lips, “Oh, so now you like my powers, huh?”
Grinning, you responded, “Let’s just say, I’m starting to see the perks.”
With that, Wanda was finally able to get the door lock to yield to her magic and open up. With the granted entry, you both slipped into the room beyond, only to be met with dozens of eyes from scientists working in the lab you just entered, “What’s up fellas, I heard you’ve been playing with a new toy,”
The scientists, startled by the sudden intrusion, immediately recognized the threat and reacted swiftly. They shouted in alarm as you charged at them causing one of them to activate a security alarm, triggering a set of reinforced doors to slam shut, attempting to neutralize the largest threat they saw, Wanda.
Before she could react, you pushed her out of the way, finding yourself locked inside a sealed chamber, cut off from Wanda and the rest of the room. Panic coursed through your veins as you realized the predicament. Seeing that you’re in no position to look out for Wanda any longer, you began pounding on the glass door, shouting for her to get out, but the scientists weren’t done quite yet.
In a desperate bid to incapacitate you, originally Wanda, and prevent any further interference, one of the scientists had activated an aerosol dispenser in the sealed chamber. A fine mist of the chemical agent you had been tasked with retrieving filled the air around you. All you could do was gasp as the toxic substance began to take effect. Desperately trying to hold your breath and shield yourself from exposure, your focus shifted from escape to self-preservation. Your skin became overrun with a dark crystalized rash, similar to obsidian growing like a vine on the side of an unkept building, scaling up and down your arms as it spread out. 
On the other side of the sealed door, Wanda fought to free you from your captors, her powers surging as she attempted to disable the security measures and reach you as quickly as possible. She knew the amount of time it would take her to break through the mechanism would be fatal for you, so she desperately took to screaming at the scientists to unlock the door and sending a wave of magic knocking them against the wall when they wouldn't cooperate. The scientists, however, were determined to keep you separated and eliminate the threat they posed to their operation. The mission had taken a treacherous turn, and you were left alone in a race against time to survive the effects of the chemical while Wanda fought desperately to save you. 
As the seconds flew by, your vision grew hazy and Wanda knew you were reaching critical condition as the rash spread to your face. When brute force failed, she surged into the minds of the scientists standing before her to figure out how to disable the chamber. Once she was deep enough within their mind to bend their bodies to her will, she was finally able to free you.
As soon as the doors opened to allow Wanda to reach you, she rushed in without a second thought, her magic almost working subconsciously to move whatever was left of the chemical in the air. You laid on the floor hanging onto any bit of consciousness you could grasp onto as you faded in and out, just hoping to make it out alive. 
The witch scooped you up and darted for the exit, “Nat, we have an emergency situation here. Need medical evac NOW!” Wanda said over the comms. Her sprint turned into a quick glide through the air as she found it easier and quicker to let her magic take you both through the base and toward the exit. 
“Roger that, contacted HQ for the tac team and medical. 10 minutes out.” Nat responded, “What hap-” 
“Fuck- 10 minutes? I don’t know if she has that long,” Wanda responded with worry, as she looked down at you shaking in pain as you drifted in and out of awareness, “Y/N, hey look at me, can you hear me?” Wanda spoke gently but with urgency, as you met her gaze briefly before your eyes rolled back slightly in a blur, “Medical is on the way, you just need to hold out for 10 minutes, I’m going to get you there, just- hang on” Wanda stated as her grip on you tightened and her magic quickened in pace. 
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Within minutes, Wanda met up with a medical team that arrived on the scene. They assessed your condition and quickly realized the severity of the situation. You were unconscious, struggling to breathe, and not only displaying signs of chemical poisoning but also a rash they had never seen before.
Working together, Wanda and the medical team carefully stabilized your condition as best they could on-site. They administered oxygen and provided preliminary treatment to counteract the effects of the chemical agent.
Recognizing the urgency of the situation, the medical team made the critical decision to transfer you to a nearby hospital equipped to handle chemical exposure cases. They carefully loaded you onto a gurney and rushed you onto an awaiting helicopter.
During the tense journey to the hospital, Wanda rode alongside you holding her hand and offering silent reassurance, while Nat and Maria stayed back to work with the tactical team. The situation remained dire, but they were doing everything they could to give you the best chance of survival.
At the hospital, a team of specialized medical professionals took over your care, working tirelessly to detoxify your system and stabilize your condition. The chemical exposure had taken a toll on your body, and even after all this time, your prognosis remained uncertain.
Wanda, exhausted and fraught with worry, refused to leave your side. As if every reason she had to hate you flew out the window, she was determined to stand by her partner throughout this ordeal, hoping and praying for your recovery. 
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Wanda was pulled from her spiraling thoughts in the waiting room as she heard a nurse utter, “She’s stable,” in a very neutral tone, so neutral that maWanda was unsure if it was actually good news, “but she’s not out of the woods yet.” she warned as she motioned for Wanda to follow her in to be by your side once again. 
The brunette stood to follow, “Is she awake?” 
The nurse shook her head, mentioning that she doesn’t expect you to wake up for at least 12 hours. They needed to ensure that your body has flushed out the toxin before allowing it to exert any more energy. 
Wanda took the seat by your bed and notified Natasha of the situation. She was hopeful, knowing you're a fighter, and Wanda tried to be optimistic as well, “It should’ve been me, Nat,” Wanda stated full of guilt and regret. Nat did her best to assure Wanda that she would’ve done the same and your situation was in no way her fault. Deep down, she wonders if she actually would’ve done the same. 
“You better wake up, Sprints, or I swear. How dare y- why do you have to be the best at everything?” She sighed as her body trembled and a tear spilled from her eyelid.
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After two long and agonizing days of unconsciousness, you finally began to stir in the hospital bed. Your vision was hazy at first, and you struggled to regain full awareness but as your senses gradually sharpened, you slowly became aware of the sterile hospital room that surrounded you.
The first thing you noticed was Wanda, sitting by your bedside. As your eyes met Wanda’s, your heart skipped a beat, you could see her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and relief. It was unlike her, but you couldn't help but smile weakly, your voice hoarse as you croaked out a greeting. "Hey there."
Wanda's expression softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "You're awake," she replied, her relief evident in her voice until it starkly changed to anger, almost like a mask, “Don't ever do that again!” she warned, brows furrowing.
“Wow, not even a thank you.” you teased as Wanda bit back to reiterate, “I’m serious y/n, I could’ve protected myself.”
“Yeah, but I protected us both,” you snarkily replied letting the brunette build up steam as you dug further.
“Protected? You almost got yourself killed, for nothing! God you're insufferable!” she exclaimed, not even wanting to be in the room with you anymore. Remembering just how annoying it is to even hold a conversation with you.
“Didn’t realize you cared,” 
As your eyes continued to scan the room, you spotted Natasha and Maria entering the room with a tray of coffee and snacks, “Coffee anyone? Oh Y/N, you're awake!” 
You smiled in response as Nat took the coffee from her wife with a smile, letting the tension built between you and Wanda disipate as they took over the conversation. 
“You gave us quite the scare there, y/n,” Nat noted, as much as she worried for you, she knew you were a fighter with the best medical team in the country. 
“Aw, you were worried?” You teased, knowing Nat to always keep a stone cold exterior to most, only letting ones that she was close to, like you, really get to see her emotions. 
“Not one bit,” she lied and everyone in the room knew.
As Nat and Maria took over the conversation, Wanda sat there brewing. Not only could she not understand the emotions she was feeling for you, but they just kept brewing as he sat in silence. Anger, relief, annoyance, worry, it all swam around in a confusion pool of questions. Her abrupt departure was without a word and you looked to Nat as she left, “Guess she’s tapped out on me for the day,”
Nat knew that you and Wanda had a rocky relationship but she felt that the brunettes behavior was quite uncalled for given the circumstances, “mm, I’ll talk to her,” Nat hummed as she got up to leave the room in pursuit of Wanda.
“And then there were two,” you joked with Maria. 
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Nat found Wanda in the hallway walking toward the exit of the hospital, she was headed back to the cabin as that’s where the 3 of them have been staying while you were stuck in a foreign hospital until you were ready to be transferred back to New York, “What the fuck was that?” Nat aggressively shouted in Wanda’s direction. 
Wanda quickly snapped her head around to the familiar voice, eyes landing on the angry Russian, “Not now Nat, please.” She dismissed as she stayed on her path. 
“No, Wanda, you don’t get to pick and choose. Y/N was practically on her deathbed to save you and this is how you want to act? What’s so terrible that you can’t even spend more than 5 minutes with her?”
“I didn’t need her to save me, she just made it all even more,” Wanda paused before bursting out, “DIFFICULT!” 
Nat could tell this was about more than just getting you to safety after the mission. She knew Wanda had dealt with a lot and always had a hard time getting her emotions in check. Instead of pressing further, she decided to switch up the metaphorical cards in her hands, “well all she wanted was to make sure you were safe.” With that, Nat turned to head back to your room. Wanda stood there watching her walk away, knowing she was right.
Before Wanda could decide what to do next the ground began to shake. It was subtle at first but soon, the items lining the walls and the structure of the building began to tremble along with it. Nat turned back to Wanda, who was still standing behind her, “Is that you?” She raised her brow, knowing the answer would be no, but hoping that it was by chance as that would make their job much easier. 
Wanda shook her head, confusion written all over her face as Nat turned again in the direction of your room in a full sprint, Wanda following Nat’s lead closely behind. Nat easily put the pieces together that the chemical agent you were exposed to would have effects that they could not predict. 
When they made it to your room, they were met with Maria trying to calm you down as you shook and writhed on the bed in pain. Your skin felt like it had just been dipped in lava causing your temperature to rise so much that you could visibly see a slight red tint on your face. Inside was arguably even worse as the uncontrollable shivers caused you to feel lightheaded and nauseous. 
Nat tried calling for a doctor through the hallways as the building began shaking even more. The worse your condition became, the more aggravated the building shook. They had to do something before the hospital filled with hundreds of innocent people became rubble. Wanda came to the side of your bed opposite Maria, shock prominent on her features as she watched you squirm, not knowing how to help. 
Maria could tell that Wanda was struggling with how to help, honestly, she didn't know exactly what to do either, but she did know that they had to get the building to stop shaking, and she was sure with Wanda’s magic, they would be able to help you somehow, “We have to neutralize the seismic waves emitting from her somehow,” Maria told Wanda as she kept her eyes on you, trying to figure out a solution. 
With that, Wanda was snapped out of the frozen state she was in as her eyes lit up red and she dove into your mind, trying to get answers. Near instantly her body began to tremble as a whimper fell from her mouth at the pain that radiated from you, “Y/N you have to calm down, the whole building is about to collapse”
“I’m not doing anything,” your thoughts fighting to make sense of the situation, “I-I can't control it! H-HURTS!”
Wanda’s balance faltered as the building’s shaking became more intense, her grip on the railing of your hospital bed tightened, and it became clear to her that her best option was to sedate you. She reached her hands toward your temple and let the red tendrils of her magic flow freely toward your skin as they rooted themselves within your mind. Taking hold and lulling you into a calm state of peaceful sleep. Slowly but surely, the building stood still again and soon after, a doctor came in to assess the situation. 
“About time,” Natasha spat with clear irritation towards the doctor.
Wanda, felt a growing unease as Dr. Scholt entered the room. His icy, judgmental gaze fell onto you as he began to examine your medical chart and machines. It was clear to Wanda that his discomfort with powered individuals was not something he could easily hide.
Ignoring Nat’s comment, Dr. Scholt made his way over to assess your condition eventually swaying from their original plan of keeping you until you were stable enough to be transferred, “I've seen too many of their kind, causing nothing but chaos and destruction. We don't have the resources to deal with creatures like this in our hospitals,” unaware that one of the most powerful enhanced individuals was standing right beside him, his disdain for you was clear with his tone and judgmental words. 
With a mixture of anger and concern, Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a hint of impatience as she retorted, "We're here because we need medical assistance, Doctor, not a lecture. Y/N's condition is the priority, and I expect her to receive the same care as any other patient. Your personal opinions have no place in a hospital room."
Before the doctor had the chance to respond, Wanda cut in, “No, it’s fine. He made his stance awfully clear,” she quarreled with a head tilt toward the doctor before turning back to Natasha, “We’ll take it from here,” 
“Great, I’ll get her prepped for transport,” the doctor mentioned as he attempted to grab sedatives to administer to you for the ride. However, Wanda wasn’t going to let him or his team lay another finger on you after the display he just made, knowing even from his thoughts, that his ill intentions may get the better of him. 
Before he left the room, Wanda caught his attention, “Maybe I wasn’t clear, Adam,” refusing to use his doctorate title, “we will take it from here.” she precisely articulated in a sharp manner, “Our transport team is on the way, You and your team are not to lay another finger on Agent y/l/n. Are we clear?” she flared, starring daggers into his soul. 
“How do you know my name?” he bit back as if that was the most important thing that Wanda said. 
“Are we clear?” Wanda repeated, without any explanation for the extra information. The doctor quickly took the hint as he nodded and scurried out of the room.
Wanda’s gaze shifted to meet Nat’s gaze who stood by the door as she watched the doctor walk past her to leave the room, “All that for someone you hate, can’t imagine what you're like when you actually like somebody,” she teased. 
“I don’t hate her,” Wanda defended as she tried to hide the growing smirk on her face, “She’s just the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she added to keep her position on you clear and she couldn’t have anyone thinking she likes you in the slightest, “But he wanted to do more to her than prep her for transport,” She informed the two other agents that stood with her in the room around your bed. 
“Well, Y/N’s lucky to have you in her corner, once Fury hears about this, Mr. Sholt can kiss his doctorate goodbye,” Maria reassured as she took a seat beside your bed to wait for the transport team to arrive in a couple hours. 
Once SHIELD’S medical team arrived, they administered sedatives to keep you unconscious during the flight and prepared you for the jet before you woke up. Wanda was instructed to be by your side as an extra precaution, in case you somehow woke up or your unhinged powers started going haywire in your sleep. 
The ride back was tame with no real issues, at one point Wanda could sense your consciousness creeping back in but she was able to quickly lull you back to comatose with her magic. Once the jet landed, they quickly got you set up in the med bay at the compound in Upstate New York. This was not typical protocol for the team. Since you were not an Avenger and merely a Shield agent, proper protocol would be to take you to the medical facilities at SHIELD headquarters. Natasha wouldn’t allow that to happen though, under her authority, she made sure you were overseen by the best team available and close enough to keep watch on.
In a matter of hours, the team ran all the tests they deemed necessary, concluding that the chemicals you came into contact with ignited something that laid dormant in your DNA. The gene acted as a sponge for the toxins, without it, the poison would’ve continued to spread and shut down every part of your body slowly and painfully. Instead, the contagion was absorbed into the gene strand, which was subsequently sent into its next phase. Without the toxin, this gene could’ve laid dormant within you forever, instead, it entered a new stage, triggering your new abilities. 
“Was anyone else in contact with this chemical?” Dr Cho asked out of an abundance of caution, knowing that if they had been, they probably wouldn’t be in such good condition.
Nat looked to Wanda for a response, knowing she was the one in the room with you when it was released. Wanda’s gaze fell to the floor for a brief second before she began, “No, they meant to expose me but Y/N pushed me out of the way,” Wanda explained as she recalled the events from a couple of days prior. 
Dr. Cho nodded slightly in acknowledgment before responding “It’s a good thing Y/N was the one affected by this in all honesty. Without running tests, there’s no way to know whether the rest of the team has the gene structure to survive such an attack. She got real lucky,” Dr. Cho explained as she went over the results of the tests. 
Wanda struggled with this internally. Part of her was thankful things unfolded the way they did because if they hadn't the situation could've been a lot worse, but the other part twisted it to figure that you must have just been trying to 1-up her. You never do anything nice without something in it for yourself, at least in her eyes. This wasn’t anything new when it came to the way she thought about you. It was often that your intentions were competitive and came off abrasive, but she tended to use that model of thought for anything you did in her presence. Shaking every bit of sincerity off for a hidden agenda, and refusing to see any good in you. Deep down, maybe she didn’t want to see the good in you, it was so much easier to be closed off. Afraid that once she starts to unravel you, she’ll have no more walls to hide behind. No more armor to keep her from falling for you, to keep her safe from the pain she’s always known to follow. So, she doesn't think too deeply about it, instead, she lets her thoughts protect her. 
It was easier for her to paint you as an asshole than to deal with the mixed emotions she felt for you. Blaming everything on your lack of empathy acted almost as a shield for her, enabling her to bury other emotions so deep that she could forget about them. After replaying the events over and over in her head on a loop, she was able to spin the story in her head and concluded that you must’ve known about your genetics. You had to go through genetic testing to be a field operative with such high clearance, surely that’s how you knew. So the only reason you even pushed her out of the way was to look like the hero, to make it look like she needed saving, knowing full well you’d make it out just fine. Ugh, you’re the worst. 
With that, it was like a switch in Wanda flipped. As if her emotions were immediately shut off, she stopped visiting you at the medbay and was happy to go about her daily life without a care in the world of your condition. 
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You spent the next few weeks recovering. Natasha was by your side every step of the way, acutely aware of who visited you and who didn’t. Wanda never did. Tony came by a few times, you two weren't very close but he felt the need to show face at least. With nothing much to talk about, Tony always defaulted to talking about work when he was nervous. He didn’t find himself in too many situations without anything to say, but when he did, he attempted to claim the room with his confidence as he always had in his career. Almost as a nervous tik, he defaulted to talking about things that he knew a great deal about, even if the people around him didn’t. 
To his surprise, you were easily able to keep up with his shop talk jargon and follow along with the schematics he propped open as examples. The two of you quickly began bonding over your love for science and math. Nat noticed the uptick in visits from Stark and was happy to see you making more connections with the people she called family. 
Some of the other Avengers made their way down to the medbay as well after Nick encouraged it in a meeting. He knew how good of an agent you were, following your progress ever since word spread about you during your time at SHIELD Academy. It was practically unheard of for an Agent to graduate early, only 2 had ever done it before you. Since then, he made sure to check up on your progress every few months, hoping you’d grow into a top agent so he could use you on one of his special teams. With your new onset of abilities, he figured that eventually, you’d fit right in as a new addition to the Avengers. 
Fury rarely leaves anything to chance though, including your development. In order to get you comfortable with your newfound abilities, you’d need a mentor. Someone who has gone through a transition like yours before. After giving it some thought, there was only one other person on the team who could relate to you in that sense. 
Thor, while he did have to prove he was worthy to his father and himself in order to unlock his full potential, his powers always belonged to him. There was nothing unexpected or confusing about it. He has always wielded his power with knowledge and confidence. Similarly, Steve’s transition was also foreseen and he was able to quickly and seamlessly get a hold of his powers. 
Bruce on the other hand, still struggles to keep the beast inside of him under control. While he may be able to relate to the situation you’re currently experiencing, he wouldn’t be the right fit to mentor you with the way he is still trying to figure things out for himself. 
It was clear that Wanda could relate to your situation most closely. While she may have volunteered in the experiments carried out by Hydra, the outcome was something she never could’ve expected. For a while, she struggled to come to terms with what her body was capable of. Fearing that she would lose control and hurt someone unintentionally, and deep down the fear always lingers, but she has learned how to control it; and while she may not believe it herself, her team trusts her and her ability to keep her powers in check. 
Fury knew the two of you were far from besties, but he hoped this mentorship could double as a bonding experience to help get you more acclimated to the team. Wanda would need to get used to you being around more often, whether she was okay with it or not, he hoped this could help nudge her in the direction of welcoming the transition. 
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“No. Not a chance in hell.” Wanda argued as she stood from the chair opposite Fury in his office. Nick didn’t offer a reaction, instead, he kept his face neutral and waited for Wanda to come to terms with the arrangement. 
Noticing that Fury was not giving in, Wanda broke the silence to add, “Why me? I have nothing to teach her, she’s insufferable. This seems like more of a Rodger’s job.”
“The arrangement isn’t negotiable, Maximoff. Y/N has a lot to learn from you and I’m sure you’ll be a great teacher once she’s back on her feet.” Wanda scoffed, anger beating off her, as she went to leave the meeting.
“Oh, one more thing,” Nick added causing the brunette to pause and turn by the door, “Y/N will not know about this arrangement of ours, and I intend to keep it that way, are we clear?” without giving a clear response, Wanda rolled her eyes and stormed off to the gym, wanting to let her anger out on something meant to be hit before she ended up taking it out on the nearest wall.. “Oh, and I expect an influx of visits from you to the medbay!” He shouted towards her retreating form down the hall.
Straight from Fury’s office, she stormed into the gym with a palpable aura of frustration and anger. Her usually calm and composed demeanor had given way to an agitated energy that practically crackled in the air around her.
Nat, who happened to be in the gym working on her own training routine, turned her head as she sensed Wanda's arrival. The room seemed to darken with Wanda's stormy presence, and Natasha knew that something had clearly set her off.
Wanda didn't waste a moment. She approached one of the punching bags, her eyes flashing with a mix of determination and anger. Without saying a word, she unleashed a series of powerful punches and kicks that sent the heavy bag swinging wildly.
Wanda's frustration reverberated through the gym as she relentlessly pummeled the punching bag, each strike carrying the weight of her annoyance. The ferocity of her strikes was a clear indication of her irritation. Natasha, noticing the intensity of Wanda's training session, decided it was time to address the obvious tension. Wanda's training strikes were powerful and precise, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.
Once Nat felt that Wanda had gotten out her initial anger, she approached her friend cautiously, waiting for a break in the flurry of punches before speaking. She knew better than anyone that sometimes words were not enough, and physical exertion was the only way to cope with intense emotions, "Wanda, what's going on?" Natasha asked, her tone laced with concern as she held the opposite side of the punching bag sturdy for Wanda to continue laying on punches.
“Fury.” She growled, “He wants me to.” *PUNCH* “mentor y/n” *PUNCH* “he won’t let” *PUNCH* “Steve do it.” *PUNCH* “He wouldn’t listen” *PUNCH* “ugh!” the punching finally stopped as she left a hand on the punching bag for balance while she caught her breath.
Natasha peeked around the bag that she held steady for Wanda to give her opinion, trying to approach with caution, knowing Wanda wouldn't like what she had to say. 
Natasha didn’t know what triggered it, but she noticed the stark change in the way Wanda went from caring about you in the foreign hospital to completely shutting herself off from you as soon as you got back to New York. 
Nat took a step back from the bag to gather her thoughts, “Let me get this straight, you’re throwing a fit because the girl who just saved your life is going through life-changing trauma right now and Fury is asking you to help her through it because you have experience and have been through a similar situation?” with one eyebrow slightly raised, she shot Wanda a pointed glare. 
With her frustration rebuilding as she processed Nat’s words, Wanda pushed the bag away and turned toward the door, “Oh, here we go again. Poor Y/N she’s always the victim,” Wanda marched toward the door, not wanting to hear another person defend you. In her eyes, you were conniving and everything you did was calculated, other people just couldn't see past your charm to expose how much you actually tormented her. They couldn’t see how she was so clearly the victim in this circumstance. They couldn't see how twisted you made everything. She could though, she saw right through you. 
Nat wasn’t letting her get off that easy. She chased after the brunette trying to storm out and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to be face to face. Against her own desire, Wanda’s feet stayed planted to see what Nat had to say. 
“Are you serious? You two may not be friends, but she saved your fucking life. She was there for you, the least you could do is offer her some support and show a sliver of gratitude! You need to take a good hard look at yourself, this isn’t the Wanda I know.” Nat scolded 
Seething, Wanda bit back through gritted teeth, “I didn’t ask her to.” without giving Natasha the opportunity to speak, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the gym. 
Natasha stood there nearly dumbfounded, wondering what had gotten into Wanda to make her so heartless and cruel towards you. 
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From the gym, instead of wallowing alone in her room, Wanda decides to leave the compound for a walk around the grounds. As she walked alone with her own thoughts, she desperately tried to calm the anger within. Spending more time with you was the last thing she wanted to do, especially after coming to the conclusion that your heroic act was just a ruse. 
As she strolled, she went through countless scenarios for ways that she could get out of this whole situation. There wasn’t a single one that she thought was good enough to change Fury’s mind. 
What if I broke my hand? No, I'm sure he’d still make me teach her. What if the compound mysteriously caught fire? That would probably only delay things. What if there was an Avenger’s level threat? He’d probably just make me do it when I got back. What if I became evil and left the Avengers to take over the world or something? That could work, though it’s a bit dramatic and I don't even want to take over the world.
Knowing that Nat was on your side about this already told her that everyone else at the compound would share Fury’s opinion. Out of the whole team, Nat was the one most likely to take Wanda’s side for anything. She always knew that if Natasha’s opinion differed on a subject, the others were bound to as well.
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Wanda took the rest of the day to decompress and attempt to accept that she’d have to mentor you. The next day during breakfast, she heard Tony and Thor mention they’d be visiting you once they finished their meal. Knowing she’d have to see you eventually, Wanda’s ears perked at the opportunity to tag along and not go alone, “Can I come?” Wanda’s eagerness came as a shock to the two men sitting across the counter from her, but also to everyone else within earshot who wasn’t involved in the conversation. 
“Come to see y/n?” Tony clarified, not sure if Wanda had heard them correctly but she nodded in confirmation, “ye- yea of course.” he confirmed, surprised Wanda had any interest in visiting you.
The hum of medical equipment filled the medbay as Tony and Thor entered, their presence bringing a dynamic shift to the room. You were still in the process of recovery, looking up with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as the two Avengers approached and Wanda trailed behind. She didn’t say anything as the two of them greeted you, and instead, she took the furthest seat in the room from your bed. 
Tony, always one for theatrics, struck a dramatic pose. "Fear not, citizens! Iron Man and the God of Thunder have arrived to grace you with our formidable presence."
Thor chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Indeed! We heard tell of a valiant warrior in need of cheering, and so we have descended."
You couldn't help but smile at their playful entrance, a welcome distraction from the monotony of the medbay. However, as the three of you continued the banter, Wanda lingered at the periphery, sitting leaned back with her arms crossed and a subtle expression of indifference on her face.
Not letting her get away with sneaking in unnoticed, you broke the silence that lingered between the two of you, “Wasn’t expecting you to be here, Wanda. Did someone force you to be here or something?” You saw right through her, but before she could lie through gritted teeth and say that she was there of her own volition, Tony spoke up instead, “Believe it or not, she actually asked us to come,” Tony defended. 
Riding along Tony’s explanation, Wanda forced a smile to sell it. She was grateful that he had beat her to it, she was never much good at lying. You weren’t fully convinced that there wasn’t some underlying explanation for her presence but you accepted it with an impressed look on your face, “Wow, no hidden agenda?”
“Actually there is one,” Wanda clarified as she began to explain, “I’m going to mentor you.”
“Mentor?” You were taken aback. Why was Wanda suddenly interested in mentoring you and what made her think you wanted to be her mentee?
“Yeap, we’ve both been through similar experiences and you have a lot to learn about controlling your new powers,” she added with passive aggressiveness dripping from her words. 
You wanted to question her further, but you also didn’t want to push her to rescind her offer. Truthfully, you were kind of excited at the thought of Wanda teaching you how to wield your newfound abilities. You knew that she went through a similar situation while she was with Hydra and the thought of spending more time with her, though you would never admit it, made you excited, “oh- okay.” you accepted. 
Wanda expected more of a fight with you about this but was relieved to get it over with easily.
“How exciting,” Thor announced, “I know a thing or two about using powers myself if you need help or anything.”
“I’ll be sure to give you a call if I find a magical hammer,” you teased making the other two chuckle. 
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Taglist: @marvelogic @esposadejoyhuerta @ju-maxi89 @gingiesworld @simpforlizzie @bigbattygyal585 @cakechan123 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
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sleepydeprived · 2 months
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A Chance for Redemption
—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham’s greatest detectives.
[chapter 2]
| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader
The Batcomputer hummed with activity, casting an ethereal glow on the somber faces of the collected vigilantes. Five figures stood in a semi-circle, their eyes fixed on the screen.
"It seems we have an unexpected addition." Bruce, the one who called for their presence, broke the heavy silence.
The images of the young high school student continued to linger on the screen. Bruce's gaze drifted to Damian, the youngest among all of them, whose narrowed eyes betrayed a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"What nonsense is this, Father?" The young boy’s voice cut through the air.
Bruce spared a glance at the stoic faces of his other sons, each processing the revelation in their own way. Dick's expression held concern, and Tim seemed lost in thought.
"She is a potential blood relative, a daughter,"
Hearing Bruce’s explanation, the rest stayed in a deafening silence. Silence in which did not last long as Jason was the first to break it with a cynical smirk.
"A long-lost daughter? You sure know how to keep things interesting, Bruce."
The man in question’s jaw tightened, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. "This is no time for jests, Jason."
The youngest of the bunch crossed his arms. "This is preposterous. We need evidence, not some blurry images claiming to be family."
Bruce, torn between the skepticism that fueled his vigilante persona and the yearning for a connection lost in the echoes of tragedy, took a deep breath.
As the initial shock settled inside of Dick’s inner turmoil, he stepped forward, his eyes meeting Bruce's with a hint of understanding.
"Alright, what’s our next move?"
Returning his gaze to the screen where the same haunting eyes looked back at him, he answered,
“We can’t disrupt her life until we have concrete evidence.” Looking back at the faces of his sons who looked back at him expectantly, he continued, “For now, we observe.”
Through the symphony of slamming lockers and loud chatter, a figure clothed in the infamous Gotham Academy’s prestigious uniform navigated through the school halls, a mysterious aura surrounding her.
Her demeanor was an ironic mix of grace and clumsiness, her backpack swaying with each step. Unbeknownst to her, the school’s surveillance cameras tracked her every move and captured her interactions with fellow students, the footage easily accessed by those who were over taken by curiosity.
Being one of the said individuals, Damian Wayne—who fortunately goes to the same school as the said girl—observed his potential sister from a distance. His piercing gaze followed her, skepticism etched in his features.
Nothing extraordinary.
She seems normal enough. Too normal to be considered a Wayne.
As she approached her locker, Damian skillfully maneuvered through the crowd, ensuring a safe distance. He observed her interactions; the genuine smile that adorned her face, and the unintentional charm that seemed to draw people toward her.
The boy had attempted to interact with her at least once, yet couldn’t bring himself to think of a topic to talk about, as the girl was as much of a mystery as the shadows that cloaked Gotham City.
The school day continued, each passing period carrying the young girl further into a world where her identity remained a mystery, and her every move became a piece of the puzzle for those who watched in silence.
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I wanna make a prompt out of this but don't know how to so bare bones time!!!!!!
. Everlasting Trio + Jazz move to Gotham to take care of de-aged Dan and Dani because Amity Park is no longer safe
. Danny doesn't go to college because he flunked out of high school and decided that college isn't worth it. So he instead opens a space-themed bookshop/ cafe. It's an instant hit.
. Sam is a trust fund baby. Not because she wants to be but because taking care of her boys + 2 kids is fucking expensive.
. Tucker is an intern at WE, and because of an 'incident,' he's set to be hired by them after graduating college while now being under constant surveillance from the bats. (He knows and revels in it)
. An irl slow burn enemies-to-lovers romance between Jazz and the local crime lord, and all of Crime Ally is enjoying it.
. Dan and Dani go to Gotham Academy. They're in the same class as Damian. Dan calls Danny Mom and Dani calls him Dad (this is important). The three of them + one other poor soul get put in a project together. Chaos ensues.
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totaly-obsessed · 3 months
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Revelations
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Katie McCabe x reader request
-> Katie and you watch Aine play football for the first time
-> 2 requests in one - I hope you like it!
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
‘I want another one’ somehow happened quite fast and not even a year later – Aine was getting ready to be a big sister. Telling her didn’t quite go as Katie or you had planned…
“Baby in Mummy’s tummy!”
A deadly silence had fallen over the kitchen as your wife and you just exchanged glances, trying to figure out who had snitched, both convinced that it was not you.
“What do ya mean lovie?” Katie tried to act unknowingly but apparently forgot that Aine had gotten the sass from her.
“You need to listen better!” You could barely hold yourself up with how much you were shaking with laughter and the Irishwoman’s shocked face. “Watch ya tone, Missy!”
By now the young girl had attached herself to your leg, clawing at you for ‘uppies’ as she had once called it. When you finally caved and sat her on the kitchen counter, she was quickly joined by Cooper who nuzzled his head into her side.
“You’re right doll. There is a baby in Mummy’s tummy – you will be a big sister.” Both of you were curious about how the seven-year-old would react to the news, not even caring at this point how she had figured it out.
“Like Mama and Auntie Lauryn!” Cooper by now had enough of the excited bouncing, opting to leave and look for a pretty spot in the sun where he could nap until his small human companion would inevitably find him and smother him in pets.
“That’s right bub! What do you think of that?” Back was the tense silence, as Katie grabbed your hand, giving it a loving squeeze – this was much more terrifying than you had thought. At least you didn’t need to actually tell Aine the news, she had taken that upon herself.
The small brunette looked around the open kitchen and living space, her pigtails swishing through the air as she scooted closer to the edge of the countertop, getting her face right next to yours. Katie’s hands were ready in case she fell, which she wouldn’t but Katie would always worry. “Pssshh! Don’t tell - this was my biggest wish for Santa! And it came true!”
Your wife couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her daughter's forehead before hiding her face in the very familiar brown hair. “Well, Santa came early then, huh?” It was in the middle of November, but ever since last Christmas, the seven-year-old had started a wish list. “He did! Cause I wanted it so badly – and Mummy did too!”
This had gone over much better than you could have imagined, and for now, you were just fine with her thinking that Santa was the way her little sibling would find its way to her. “You’re right Lovie. Mummy and Mama wished for it really badly too.”
---
---
It was no secret that Aine wanted to be just like her Mama, so her playing football should really not come as a surprise to either of you but it turns out that seeing her little girl get accepted into the Arsenal U8s team was something entirely different.
The little brunette had tried out for them, just like any other kid (no matter what haters would say), and got accepted with no problem. At their age group, it wasn’t considered as ‘Academy’ training, but rather ‘Pre academy’, with two training sessions a week and ten games across the whole season. They also weren’t separated into a girls' and boys' team just yet, so the Arsenal U8’s was a mixed team that would compete against other fixed games and also just boys teams.
With spring break coming up, Aine’s first match was also coming closer and closer. Katie had never felt so many emotions. Seeing you at six months pregnant and now well rounded while her little girl went to training after training, each time coming home with a bigger smile.
“Look at this! You’ll look just like Mama!”
Katie really couldn’t hold her tears anymore – with you holding her hand Aine admired herself in the mirror, wearing her game-day kit for the very first time.
But instead of Katie's 15 on her back, she had a 10 – for Kim Little, the best Midfielder there was and your daughter's biggest idol, much to her mama's disappointment.
“You look so grown up, Doll.” Seeing your wife this emotional, and Aine so happy gave you the rest. Now both of you were bawling your eyes out while the little brunette hopped around the house, before running back with Katie’s phone in her little hands.
“Take a picture, Mummy! For Auntie Kim!”
In the picture you were holding the grinning girl in your arms, as she proudly kissed your tummy, refusing to properly pose as she wanted to show Kim her little sibling as well.
This was the best day yet for the young gunner. After all, she was going to be a big sister, so she had to be a good example and play good football – just like the grown-ups.
“Do me a favor, my love?” Aine stood in between her mother's legs when she finally composed herself a little. “Hmmm?”
“Grow up a little slower, will ya?”
---
---
Turns out preparing for gameday, and actually experiencing one, were completely different experiences – especially when it was a double game day.
Aine was already hopping through the house like an excited bunny when Katie made her way down the stairs to make breakfast.
The Irishwoman had kissed your forehead, gently waking you up with a mumbled “Mornin Love. Thirty minutes.” Before going downstairs. God was her morning voice attractive.
It was seven in the morning. On a Sunday. Entirely too early for a six-month pregnant you who had put a giddy child to bed, that didn’t want to sleep. But your wife was gracious, giving you thirty more minutes to wake up fully before helping her daughter bring breakfast in.
You could get used to this – a delicious meal in bed with your wife and daughter, although a little later would have been nice.
“Mummy, when do we have to go?” This was the third time Aine had asked in the last ten minutes, and every time either Katie or you had given her the answer but the small brunette couldn’t help herself – she was just too excited.
This was the fastest you had ever seen the seven-year-old get washed and dressed after breakfast. She was so fast, that she had gotten impatient with your much slower speed. Aine took it upon herself to get you dressed while you brushed your teeth while sat on the closed toilet.
“Foot please Mama!” You did as asked, picking up your legs off the floor so that your daughter could slip socks over your feet.
And with a quick zoom, she was in your bedroom again, just to return with wide, comfortable pants that you just knew that your wife chose. Instead of giving them to you, she threw them on the floor. “Step in please!” Good thing you were already wearing underwear, huh? As good as she could, Aine helped you get them up and over your bump, but not before giving it a kiss and whispering a small “Hi!”
It went like that until you were fully dressed and she pulled you to the hallway, where your wife helped you into shoes as you could barely see the ground anymore.
“Is this okay? I thought maybe I should have given her longer socks because it will be cold – but then we have a blanket so maybe you will get too hot an-“ Katie’s rambling was cut short with a passionate kiss. “It’s perfect – Thank you, my Love.”
“Let go, let go, let's go!”
---
---
“Now you know how it feels to watch you play!” Katie was tense as she leaned against one of the beams that surrounded the football pitch.
The drive here had gone by fairly quickly as Aine made sure to tell your wife all about her teammates. You had met most of them already during practice or while picking her back up again – the small brunette would always chat with anybody who would listen until you walked over to take her home. Her chattiness definitely came from your wife – but right now there was nothing in the world that could make the Irishwoman relax.
“She’s tougher than she looks, my Love.” By now you had taken the footballer's hand, rubbing calming circles on it in a desperate attempt to calm her down.
Aine was one of four girls on the pitch – two on her team and two on the other. The rest were all boys. And while you knew that she was feistier than she looked, much more like her mother than you, the size difference between her and some of the boys was terrifying.
“Oi Ref!” Your wife’s hand shot up when an opposing boy had clumsily taken your daughter down with him in an attempt to stop her from getting even closer to their goal. “That’s a free kick! Ref!” The guy refereeing the game didn’t see the incident at first, angering Katie even further – but when he did look over the first thing that he saw, was a tiny brunette shoving a boy at least a head taller off of her.
The shrill sound of a whistle agreed with Katie, and the Arsenal U8s were indeed allowed a freekick in a very good position for them, as your daughter had been very central on the field and closing in on goal.
Katie’s grip on your hand tightened with stress – she knew what she would do in this situation. But did her seven-year-old know it as well? They spent countless dinner conversations talking about football and plenty of different techniques, with impressive input from Aine, so she had to know what she was doing, right?
 And she did.
The brunette passed to one of her free strikers and started running through the masses. She was small, fast, and agile – and before the opposing team could blink, her striker passed back to her when she was standing directly in front of the goal.
“Yes! That’s my daughter!”
Katie couldn’t contain herself any longer – the ball had hit the back of the net with a surprising amount of force, their keeper jumping in the other direction, making this a perfect goal. Her first goal.
After high-fiving every player on her team your daughter sprinted over to where you stood and gave a quick kiss to your belly just like she had done earlier in the morning. “For you, baby!”
The match ended shortly after Arsenal's third goal, assisted by your daughter who once again looked at you and Katie, to see if you watched her – which you did.
One of the trainers had brought a box of mixed ice-creams and even though the young brunette wasn’t supposed to, she took three of them and quickly made her way to you and your wife.
“Don’t you wanna eat with your friends baby?”
“Nuh-uh. You are my best friends.”
Well, there go your hormones again as you couldn’t hold your tears at bay any longer. “I love you so much Aine. And you played so well.” The seven-year-old kissed your forehead much like Katie did, before ensuring that someone had recorded the game so that she could show Auntie Kim her goal.
“That was my first win for baby sister, Mommy! Now Mama needs to win tonight so it’s a perfect day!”
“Geez no pressure huh?” Everything was packed up now and the pitch was getting emptier by the minute as multiple parents made their way to their cars at the same time you did.
“Aine I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“What if it’s a baby brother instead?”
She was now buckled into her car seat, with Katie still at her door trying to work out something that has been bothering her ever since your daughter had announced that you were pregnant again. Neither you nor Katie have been told the gender of the baby, yet the youngest family member seemed sure that it would be a girl again.
“It’s not. It’s a baby sister.”
“How do you know that?”
You tried to watch their interaction as well as you could from your passenger seat. Your Wife’s eyes were wide with curiosity, something that you saw in Aine nearly every day.
“I just do.”
“You terrify me, Kid.”
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leahwllmsn · 3 months
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someday when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around | leah williamson x reader
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Five years after you leave Arsenal, you see Leah in the streets of London. You think that seeing your ex’s smile after all this time shouldn’t hurt this much.
; angst
Nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down
y/n
The first time you kissed Leah was when you were fifteen and Leah was sixteen in your shared hotel room during an away game for Arsenal academy.
It was sloppy and awkward but it was perfect.
At that moment, with your laughter echoing throughout the small room and your eyes reflecting a newfound happiness, you figured you were destined to fall.
At fifteen, you knew you were too young to know what love was. But every time Leah laughed, you also knew that you were one step closer to figuring it all out.
Despite everything, you kept it all to yourself. Even after your first kiss, you never brought it up—and Leah didn’t either. You were glad. You didn’t think you were ready to have that conversation.
Still, you and Leah kept the secret glances, the longing stares, and the kisses shared when it was just the two of you in your bedroom (you had a bunk bed so the two of you mostly spent time at yours, on the top bunk, just in case someone was able to enter despite the locked door).
You were never going to become an actual couple. You knew this. While dating a teammate wasn’t prohibited, it was surely complicated. Let alone dating someone of the same gender—you didn’t know how your parents would react to that. But you figured that the fleeting moment of happiness whenever Leah kissed you wouldn’t hurt if nobody was to ever find out.
When you lost Leah in the end, you didn’t let yourself cry because you knew it was coming; your relationship was doomed from the start. 
It was an unspoken ending that you had foreseen the moment Leah kissed you back that first time.
(No matter how hard you tried to change the ending, you couldn’t).
Leah
Leah met you when she was twelve and you were eleven. You were there to protect her from the hurtful words of boys at the park and you were there to comfort her when thunderstorms came and she was desperately trying to hide her shivers. 
Since the first day you two met, Leah knew that you would be someone important to her—she didn’t know how, but Leah had a feeling that you were going to be someone to her. And that became true with the way you were always there at every important moment of Leah’s life.
After Leah’s first terrible game, when one of the coaches were too harsh on her and she ran to the changing room crying, you were there to hold her. The first time Leah missed practice because she fell sick, you were there to distract her with cookies and silly jokes and goofy faces.
And the day Leah Williamson did the unthinkable and told everyone that she was leaving Arsenal, you were there to hold her hand the entire ride back to her apartment from the training ground.
The only time you weren't there was when Leah left for Barcelona, and it was because Leah specifically asked you not to come. 
You texted her that day, but Leah didn’t reply. And for five years that text was the last thing Leah had from you. Leah figured it was for the best.
y/n: safe flight leah
y/n: i love you
y/n: i always will
y/n
You moved to Los Angeles a month after Leah left. Leah was off to a fresh start, you wanted—no, you needed to do the same.
Everyone wondered what happened between the two of you that made Leah leave her most beloved club, and with the most shocking revelation that you weren't coming with her.
You only shrugged every time, forcing a wave of dismissal, “people drift apart. It happens all the time. Life goes on.” And it was true, you and Leah weren’t meant to last forever. You didn’t know how Beth got the idea that your love was written for the stars and that it was going to last a lifetime.
You knew from the start that you were a ticking time tomb, you were even surprised that it lasted that long.
Leah
“You never really tell us what happened between you and y/n.”
Leah looks at her teammates, an amused expression on her face. “It’s been years and you’re just asking me this now?”
Lucy shrugs indifferently. “You two clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so Kiera and I agreed to not touch the subject. But like you said, it’s been years, and you’ve probably moved on, so it should be fine in asking right…?”
“But,” Kiera interjects, her face full of worry. “If you don’t want to talk about it then it’s fine. As long as you’re fine then it’s great.”
Leah averts her gaze away. She doesn’t think she would ever be fine without you, but she’s able to get by her day without the pain in her chest, so it’s something. 
“I was willing to let everyone know that she was the love of my life, yet she was more than fine with keeping me a secret,” Leah answers simply and that’s the last time Lucy and Kiera ever bring the topic up.
y/n
“Are roses really your favorite flower or are you just saying that because it’s the most basic flower ever?”
Leah laughed at her question. “What?”
“I’m just curious.” you wrapped an arm around Leah’s waist and cuddled further into her.
“What is your favorite flower?” Leah asked back.
“Daisies.”
“Then it’s my favorite too.”
You giggled and placed a kiss on Leah’s shoulder. “You’re silly. What if I told you my favorite flowers are actually sunflowers?”
“Then sunflowers are my favorite too.”
“Leaaah.”
Leah giggled along and turned to her side. You were face to face, so close that you could count the barely noticeable sunspots on her face.
“You remind me of sunflowers,” you admitted in a whisper.
“How so?” Leah whispered back.
“You’re so full of happiness and… and sunshine. Sunflowers are the embodiment of summer and that’s exactly what you are to me—the summer warmth from the blaring sun that burned me up yet I do not mind it one bit ‘cause I feel happy and content.”
Leah stared at her, you couldn’t piece what she was thinking. “Didn’t know you were this cheesy,” was what Leah finally said.
You simply grinned at Leah and pecked her lips. “Did you know,” you continued. “That there’s an ancient Greek myth about why sunflowers follow the sun?”
Leah hummed and closed her eyes, her hands were gently stroking your waist, letting you know that she was listening.
“Clytie—she was a nymph—adored Apollo, the God of Sun. And when he fell in love with another nymph, Clytie became jealous and told the other nymph’s father about the relationship, who then punished his daughter by burying her alive. Apollo became angry, obviously. He turned Clytie into a flower, but even then she still loved him and would spend her days watching him as he moved the sun across the sky, just like sunflowers move to face the sun.”
“That’s… something,” Leah whispered out, opening her eyes. “It’s kinda sad.”
“Right?”
“So the reason sunflowers are your favorite is because of its tragic story?” 
“It’s not tragic!” you exclaimed, a pout on your lips. “It’s sweet!”
“Sure, love,” Leah kissed your pout away. You couldn’t help the grin that quickly spread across your face. “You hate the color yellow though,” Leah noted. “There’s no way sunflowers are your favorite.”
You shrugged. “Yellow isn’t that bad. You remind me of the color yellow. Especially since your hair is blonde,” you tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Leah’s ear. 
Leah laughed and you scooted closer, your forehead against Leah’s neck. “Every time I see sunflowers, they’re gonna remind me of you.”
“Why?”
“Because even if you fall in love with someone else and curse me into a flower, I’d still be very much in love with you.”
y/n
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Nodding, you give Tobin a rueful smile. “No… Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Tobin gives you a sympathetic look and hands you your phone. “Call her.”
“Do you think she’ll answer?” your tone is full of doubt, you’re scared too, most of all.
“You’ll never know.”
You laugh. It’s funny how you got to this point. Five years later, sitting in your kitchen in your Los Angeles home with your best friend who happens to be your ex’s best friend too. Tobin is sitting in front of you, holding your hand ever so carefully, as if you’re about to break at any moment.
Going back to Tobin’s first question, no. You're not sure you should be doing this at all. But you have to do something. Your epiphany—or your “thank the fucking lord that y/n has finally come to her senses and realize that none of this shit matters anymore” as Tobin would call it, came crashing in one Sunday afternoon. 
You weren't expecting it. How were you supposed to know that your life would be turned upside down in the middle of doing the dishes at your teammate’s kid’s birthday party? You would’ve laughed at it all if you didn’t feel a blow to your stomach so hard, knocking all the wind out of you. Through the window you could see your friend, Sydney, face full of smiles and laughter with her husband and her son next to her. They were all happy and the first thing that came to your mind was that you wanted that. And there was only one person you wanted that with.
You felt tears trickle down your face and that was when you started to question the point of it all—all the prestigious football awards and titles, all the fame and fortune. You were well-known, you had houses, apartments, villas all over the world, but what was the fucking point of it all if you didn’t have the love of your life by your side?
You realized that living without Leah wasn’t really living and that was the story of how you broke down in a party full of three year olds. 
It wasn’t your greatest day, but it did lead up to this moment.
Taking a deep breath, you take your phone from Tobin’s hand and scroll through your contacts.
my love
With a quiet laugh at how pathetic you are for keeping the contact name, you place the phone to your ear. It keeps on ringing and you’re certain that Leah isn’t going to answer, but the beeping stops and you hear the voice that you haven't heard in years.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” your voice is faint, barely a whisper. “Uh- it’s y/n.”
“I know,” there is a barely audible sigh on the other end. Whether it’s out of annoyance or apprehension, you don't know. A part of you hope it’s a sigh of relief—something that you feel as soon as you hear Leah’s voice. It feels a lot like coming home after years astray. “I still have your number.”
“Right.” you find yourself tongue-tied. You had it all planned out, what you’re going to say and what you’re going to ask, but something stirs up within you at the sound of Leah’s voice. 
“Is there a reason you called?”
“Yes. Uhm,” you close her eyes and try to calm yourself down. “I wanted to ask you… if- if it’s okay to…” you look at Tobin helplessly and you find the brunette staring back at you, an encouraging look on her face. Taking a deep breath, “If it’s okay to tell everyone about us.”
There’s a clang on the other end, making you wince. “Are you okay? Leah?”
Leah is still silent, you don't mind waiting. After a minute, Leah finally speaks, “Me? Are you okay? Where did all this come from?”
“Oh,” you feel your cheeks flush. “I did some thinking. I want to tell everyone about you. I’m not expecting anything, don’t worry. I know it’s over between us… But I just- I’m gonna tell everyone about me and you were a big part of me so- I don’t know. I want- Nevermind. This is stupid. Just forget it—”
“Wait, y/n.”
“…Yeah?”
“You’re gonna come out?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
You feel your chest constrict at the sound of Leah’s voice—how dejected she sounds. “Leah… I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? That’s great, y/n,” Leah says. You can now clearly hear the hurt in her voice. “I’m proud of you.” But there’s a hint of pride too and you feel a lump forming in your throat.
How can Leah be proud of you for doing something you should’ve done years ago? Five years ago, to stop Leah from leaving. To stop Leah from thinking that you wouldn’t do anything for her.
“I really am, y/n.” Leah continues. “Don’t beat yourself up that it took you this long. Everyone has their own pace.”
“I know,” you sniffle. “I just wish that I could’ve figured it out sooner- and- and maybe that way I wouldn’t have- have lost you-”
“Hey, hey, y/n,” Leah’s voice is soothing and you find yourself calming down. You’re amazed that Leah’s voice still has the same effect on you. “Don’t think about the ‘what-if’s. You’ll go crazy. Believe me, I know.”
You don't say anything, trying to keep your tears at bay.
“I spent the year after we broke up thinking where we would’ve been if I didn’t walk out that door. If I stayed with you. Maybe you would be sleeping next to me in our home in London. Or Barcelona. Or even Los Angeles, because as much as I didn’t see myself living there, I knew I would’ve sucked it all up ‘cause you love that city so much.”
“Leah…”
“Maybe we would’ve been engaged. Or married. Two kids, just like how we dreamed of, do you remember? We would’ve retired from all of this and you’d have your own football academy and I’d be there to support you through it all. I’d probably be a coach there, teaching all the kids who have the passion to be just like us.”
You laugh, wiping her tears away. “An academy?”
Leah laughs along with you. “You don’t think I know? You stay back after dinner with Dad and Jacob, having discussions with them about what it would take to build your own academy.”
“I was just curious. I’m a high school drop-out, Leah. I’m not smart enough to build my own academy, but I appreciate your belief in me.”
“You’re the smartest person I know.”
It’s silent for a moment and you can hear Leah’s soft breathing. You miss this more than you realize.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“What for?”
“For not hating me, I guess.”
Leah’s laugh is loud and you smile. “I could never hate you. Even when I was deep in my daydreams of the ‘what-if’s and the disbelief of you being gone, I didn’t hate you.”
You sigh. You don't know why this feels a lot like closure. You don't want that. A closure means closing any window of opportunity for the two of you.
“Sometimes… Sometimes two people love each other too much that fate becomes jealous and tears them apart.”
But the more Leah talks, the more you feel the inevitable closure coming.
“You’re my greatest love, y/n l/n. Don’t ever forget it, okay?”
You don’t know if what you feel is relief or misery.
Leah
“I want you, you! I want all of you!”
“You have me!” you replied exasperatedly. “You’ve always had me! What are you talking about?!”
“But you’re a secret! I want you all the time. Not just when no one is around!”
You rubbed a hand over your face. “We’ve talked about this, Leah.”
“But—“
“This,” you gestured widely, your voice cracking with pain. “This is all temporary. We’ve always known from the start. I’ve deluded myself into thinking that we somehow could make it work when all it did was prolong the eventual pain we would endure when we have to break things off.”
Huffing with laughter, Leah’s face was laced with pain. “Glad to know you’re so fucking optimistic about us, y/n.”
“Leah,” your voice was pleading. “I don’t see the point in this if we’re just going to—”
“The point? I love you! Isn’t that fucking enough?! y/n—”
“Leah,” you cut her off. “Leah, I love you too. You know that. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“Of course it’s enough!” Tears were streaming down Leah’s face and you had to look away. You couldn’t handle seeing her so helpless and in pain.
“It’s not,” you whispered.
Balling her hands into fists, Leah kept her eyes on you despite you not meeting her eyes. “If you’re so afraid about what people think, we can get out of here for a little while, y/n,” Leah pleaded. She was desperate. “Take a vacation, as long as we like. We could go to Italy, or Spain, heck even somewhere in America. We can be anywhere but here and it’ll be alright.” Leah stood in front of you, her hands coming up to cradle your face. “Please, y/n. We can make it. I know we can. I have faith in us.”
You finally looked at Leah, complete devastation on her face. “Then what, Leah? We tell everyone about us, we leave for a little while, eventually we have to come back to the real world. We can’t escape forever. Once we’re back, we see that our relationship is all that they’ve been talking about. They won’t focus on your football skills, they’ll focus on your love life even when it’s none of their business. I can’t take that away from you.”
Spluttering, Leah looked taken aback. “I- what? I don’t care about all that. We’ll live. It won’t be the end of the world.”
“You’re gonna resent me someday.”
“Why would I resent you? I won’t—”
“You love football!” you interrupted. “It’s your whole world and I’m not going to be the one you let it all go for.”
Leah couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice when she replied. “You’re my world, y/n. And why are you talking as if I have to have one or the other? I can have both! You exist in this world too, y/n.”
“The media will eat us alive.”
“They probably will, but we’ll get through it,” Leah looked determined. Your heart broke all over again. “Together.”
“I’m sorry, Leah.”
“Why does it feel like you’re giving up?!” Leah shouted in despair. “We’ve barely even started. This is our future you’re throwing away! Why are you so afraid?”
“Because I know how it’ll end!”
“No, you don’t! You’re not a psychic, for goodness sake!”
“I do! I swear to god, Leah, I do.”
You had tears in your eyes, Leah could see the fear in them too. But despite the sadness written all over your face, your stance was final. Leah could see it with the way your jaw was clenched, your arms crossed over your chest, a look on your face that appeared whenever you were in an argument. The worst part of it all was that Leah knew that this was your demeanor when you knew you weren't going to lose the argument. 
Whatever you were thinking of, it was final. There was no changing your mind.
So Leah took a deep breath and willed herself to walk away. There was no use in fighting for you when she knew you didn’t want her to.
Leah
Leah wakes up with dread filling her chest. She has always been a morning person, but today is different. She knows you'll upload your video today, sometime around 2pm, you had said in your text last night.
So despite it being only 7 a.m., Leah can’t help the anxiousness that’s cursing through her body with the thought that everyone is going to know.
Leah came out a year ago. She didn’t exactly do a grand gesture like what you're about to do; she simply had a picture of her kissing a girl leaked and that was it. She uploaded a selfie on her Instagram page with the caption: yes I do like girls and that was it. Sure, people bothered her, her mentions were a mess, the media vilified her saying that the captain of the Lionesses can’t be gay, but she stopped caring.
The moment she lost the one person who she thought was her soulmate, Leah had a hard time caring about anything anymore.
She still played football, because that was what she loved. But she never cared about how many awards she received or the ranking of her team in the league. 
Awards and achievements—they all paled in comparison to having you. You dancing around her kitchen in an oversized t-shirt, you singing in the shower with the door always open because you hated having the door closed for some reason, you cooking her waffles and pancakes for breakfast because you knew Leah preferred both at once, you who were still the most beautiful girl in the world to Leah even after hours and hours of football practice.
Leah sometimes wished she could trade her million-dollar deal with simply having you around.
Pushing these thoughts away, Leah goes about her day. She calls Kiera, then Alex, then Beth—she talks to everyone in hopes of distracting herself of what’s to come.
But it doesn’t work and Leah finds herself staring at her laptop an hour before the clock turns 2. She doesn’t know what to expect. What are you going to say? 
When the clock turns 2, Leah refreshes her YouTube page and there it was:
The Truth
y/n l/n • 0 views • 25 seconds ago
Leah takes a deep breath and presses play.
y/n
“Hi everyone. If you’re watching this video that means I am finally brave enough to hit that upload button, and it’s funny because all my life I didn’t think I would let this part of myself be known to the rest of the world.
But here I am. So freaking nervous, but here I am…”
You laugh nervously at the camera. How does one do this? You think of Leah and how she seemed so unbothered in telling everyone that she likes girls. Why was it so hard for you to do the same? Then again, Leah has always been the most confident one out of the two of you. The one who has the mentality that everything will somehow be alright—the optimist. you on the other hand walk with cautious steps, afraid that one wrong move could cause your ground to crumble.
“The question that everyone used to ask me all the time is: are you happy? Are you close to happiness? I didn’t get why. Did it show? How unhappy I was? Maybe… 
I wasn’t entirely unhappy. Of course being in Arsenal and living my dream as a footballer makes me happy. The people I’ve met, my friends and family, they all make me happy. But it somehow wasn’t enough, you know? Which is funny because with all the success I have, how can I be unhappy? People would say I was ungrateful and maybe it’s true. Human beings are never satisfied. 
Honestly, it’s hard to feel truly happy when all you can feel every waking moment is paranoia and dread. The thought at the back of my head that kept on screaming: someone is going to catch me and that everything I’ve worked my whole life for will fall apart, just like that.
Back then I didn’t realize that playing football wasn’t everything, I didn’t realize that the key for me to be truly happy was in something–or someone–I took for granted. It was funny how I was scrambling to get it all back once I'd lost it.
I thought I was doing what I thought was best when I broke the heart of the person I loved the most in this world. I thought I was setting them free because the burden of an ‘us’ was a lot. I didn’t realize until it was too late that we were never a burden; the world expected too much from us when we owe them nothing.
So with this video, I want to tell everyone that I’m done listening to other people and for once… for once I want to do what makes me happy.
This person isn’t coming back, but telling everyone what I should’ve done back then… I think that it’s a start for me to understand how to be truly happy–and that is to start living for me and no one else.
I don’t want to lie anymore, I don’t want to keep this part of me a secret because it’s who I am. The… the person I’ve been in love with all my life is a woman and her name is Leah Williamson.”
Leah
Leah goes through her day in a daze. She ends up watching half of your video, she doesn’t know why she doesn’t have it in her to finish it. She feels like another second of your teary eyes with face full of anxiousness will cause her to do something stupid like call you up and ask if you’re alright.
Leah forgets how much she craves your voice.
Leah ends up calling Alexia. When her teammate picks up on the first ring, Leah sobs into her phone.
She doesn’t know why she’s crying. It’s been years, she should’ve been over you—and she is. She’s over you. She’s able to go through her day without wondering what you’re doing, able to sleep without having flashes of your memories together when she closes her eyes. So Leah doesn’t know why she’s crying but she figures it’s because there will always be a part of her that’ll stay in love with you.
Her cries stop, and she quickly wipes her tears away. “Sorry, Ale.”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“I miss her a lot.”
“I know you do.”
“All of this makes me feel like we have a second chance,” Leah quietly confesses. “I don’t like it.”
“Why? You said it yourself, you miss her.”
“I do, but I don’t think a second chance would be good,” Leah sniffles. “I don’t want to go through the process of losing her again. I don’t think I can handle it.”
y/n
“When I first met her I was just immediately in love. Anyone who met her can agree, she was just so charming and charismatic. She's funny, she’s smart and she always says the right things. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her? When I first met her, I didn't think it would be serious. Just a silly crush on a girl I play football with, and I wasn’t stupid, I had no intentions of developing this crush into something more. 
But as time went by, I realized that she was the most beautiful person I have ever met and the more she smiled at me and laughed along at my jokes despite how unfunny it was, the more I fell in love with her.
I was so lucky that she loved me too.
And we were together for a long time. We weren’t serious until later on, and we were on and off too. It was pretty damn amazing that we kept it a secret for so long. I can count with my fingers just how many knew about us. None of our family members knew and it was suffocating most times, but it was how it was. I didn’t think I was ready.
I’ve always known at the back of my mind that we will end. We’re public figures, everyone feels entitled to have an opinion about us… I knew that somehow that would cause our relationship to end someday. We were never going to last. Maybe I was pessimistic, but it was the brutal reality we were in.
It killed you, you know. Knowing that something wasn't meant to last. I loved her so much, sometimes I think even more than life itself. It killed me every time that voice ressurfaced in the back of my head, how it kept on repeating that I'll lose her one day.
That has always been the scary part, I think. Knowing that it will happen but not knowing when. But I never lived in the fear of it all falling apart. I savored every moment I had with her, every laugh and every dumb joke she told.
It still broke me, when I did eventually lose her. I didn't leave my apartment for weeks, I was a mess, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t think I was physically able to- I don’t know. I just felt numb. I think a part of me wasn’t allowing myself to cry because I didn’t want it to be real, even though I knew how real it was—I had been preparing for it ever since I knew I was in love with her.
How do you get over someone who you know was the love of your life? Someone you’ll never truly get over. I was so used to having her next to me when I wake up, having her close to me at night when I have nightmares, and suddenly it’s all gone. She’s gone and she’s not coming back, but I have to go on—the world doesn't stop for me.
So I forced myself to put on a smile after a game, forced myself to laugh with the people around me when it felt like my heart was being torn into pieces and it hurt every time I breathe.
That’s my biggest regret, I think. Letting her just walk away like that. Making her think that I love all this… fame more than I love her.
It’s silly ‘cause I’ll never love anything more than I love her.”
Leah
“How do I forget about her, Ale?” Leah digs the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. She doesn’t understand why the tears won’t stop flowing out.
“Bebita… some people you’re just not meant to forget.”
“She hurt me. It would be easier to hate her, but I don’t. I hate that I don’t.” Leah takes a deep breath. “And now she did the thing that I’ve always wanted her to do. Be honest about us. Not caring about what others would think… But she’s years too late. I hate that she’s years too late.”
“She wasn’t ready back then,” Alexia says from the other end. “It would’ve been a disaster if she was forced to do something she didn’t want to do.”
“I know!” Leah exclaims. “I would never force her into anything. I just wish that she could’ve figured it out sooner. Then maybe we’d still be together,” Leah gives a helpless laugh. “I would’ve fucking proposed, Ale. We could’ve been married, I don’t know!”
“Leah… Hermosa, listen to me,” Alexia tries to calm her down. Leah still feels like breaking down. “What did I say about spiraling into scenarios of what could’ve happened? It’s no use. This is how it all turned out. As much as it differs from what you wanted, accept it. I’m sorry that you and her didn’t work out, but you have to accept it.”
“I hate that I still love her. The ‘what could’ve been’ wouldn't hurt this much if I still didn’t love her.”
y/n
“I guess I’ll close this video by saying what I’ve always wanted to say to her. I don’t know if she’ll be watching, and a part of me hopes she’s not because I’m scared. She always scares me, you know? Not so much because of her attitude, but more due to the fact that I have all this love for her inside me that I sometimes get confused on where to put them. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much.
Anyway… Leah.
My Leah. I hope you’re doing okay. The last time I heard your voice was a month ago to tell you about this video, and even through the phone I could hear how happy you are. So that’s good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
I know it’s been five long years and we’re both different people now, maybe you even have someone new… but sometimes, once in a blue moon, I still have dreams of us and a ‘someday’. Back then I didn't think we’d make it- we couldn't, at least that’s what I kept on telling myself. It all seems so silly now… I know times have changed and that two girls falling in love with each other isn’t the end of the world.
I know this is what you were trying to tell me that night I ruined things for good. You were telling me that we were going to be okay… but I wasn’t listening. I’m sorry. You should know that not fighting for you is the biggest mistake of my life. 
But it is what it is, right? This is where we are and maybe we’re just not meant to make it.
Anyway, I don’t want to talk too much. I could go on and on ‘cause I have so much that I want to say to you, but… let me not. I don’t think it’s best to open up old wounds. All you should know is that I love and miss you with every breath I take, and despite everything, you’re still the love of my life. I’ve come to terms that maybe I’m not yours.
You’re always going to be my person, Leah. I’m sorry that all I did was cause you pain. I hope you have someone who brings you nothing but happiness.”
Leah
Despite the voice at the back of her mind telling her that it’s okay—that it’s fine if she wants to send a simple text message to her ex who just came out to the whole world—Leah still thinks it’s a bad idea.
Most of all, she thinks it’s a bad idea because she can’t go back to where she was—that lovesick girl who would do anything for you. Leah can feel her resolve crumbling the more she watches your video. She can feel herself itching to get across the screen of her phone and wrap you up in a hug. She hasn’t felt this way in a long time, or at least when she did, she immediately tucked them away.
The sun comes up and Leah doesn't realize that night-time has come and gone. Staring out the window, Leah sees the sun rise and a memory so bright flashes in her mind. Leah wonders if you like to stare out the sun and think of her.
Leah: I’m proud of you
Leah: just so you know, you made me the happiest I’ve ever been
y/n
London has almost 9 million people and out of all the time in a day, out of all the days in a week, you don't know why you have to be in Trafalgar Square at this exact moment.
Beth is talking next to you, explaining to you why you two should just head over to brunch and ditch the rest of your American friends who are wandering around. You aren't listening to any of it.
You aren't listening because your gaze is fixated on the blonde figure across the street, laughing along with the person next to her. You feel your stomach twist. It’s been a few months since you uploaded your video, which means it’s been a few months since Leah texted you.
Most of all, it’s been five years since you saw Leah in person.
Even from afar, you can see how Leah’s smile is still the same. You can see how Leah’s eyes crinkle in happiness and how Leah’s hand searches for that girl’s hand—just like how Leah used to reach for yours.
It hurts. More than you can admit.
You look away for a brief moment and when you look back, Leah is gone, but the sight of her smile will forever remain in your head. 
Despite how you can feel your heart breaking into pieces, you also felt a newfound determination burning in your chest. Leah is the love of your life. You made the mistake of not fighting for her the first time, but you swore you’ll fight tooth and nail when the second time comes around. 
Sometime in the future, you two will find your way back to each other. You’re sure of this, because a love like yours just doesn’t disappear into thin air. 
In the future, you will proudly call Leah yours, one of you will propose and you’ll get married in New Zealand—just like what you talked about at sixteen with all the innocence in the world.
But for now, you have to learn how to be happy without Leah by your side. It’ll hurt but it’ll be worth it. You’re the sunflower in a dark night, certain that one day your sun will return.
3 years later
“Hi, this is y/n. Sorry I can’t answer the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll call you back.”
“Hey, y/n. It’s me. Leah. I got your number from Tobin. Uhm… Listen, I’m in Los Angeles for the weekend, and I still can’t figure out why you love this city so much. I reckon a local tour guide would be a good opportunity to help me try to understand this city and all its hidden beauty better. Uhm, yeah. Let me know if you’re free. My hotel is only a block away from your apartment. Sorry. That sounds creepy. Tobin told me where you live. Uhm. That’s it from me. Yeah. Call me. Or text me, whichever you prefer. …Bye.”
619 notes · View notes
When Our Stars Cross Paths; II Treech x Mentor!Reader
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Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: None
Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem
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You had no reason to be this nervous.
That’s what you tried to convince yourself as you added the finishing touches to your outfit-a pair of teardrop shaped garnet earrings and an array of silver rings. You brought your hands down to smooth out your olive green dress, opting against wearing the flashy uniforms of the Academy.
The train carrying the tributes was due to arrive at the station in just under an hour, yet you had failed to get yourself to leave the comfort of your apartment. You wrote it off as being a perfectionist and wanting to make sure you embodied the glamour that was the Capitol. But you knew the truth deep down…
You were terrified.
Despite your outwardly confident and bold persona, you had always chased validation from anyone who would give it to you. After you had started expressing your distaste for the Capitol’s vision of the Hunger Games, your parents had almost seemed to forget you existed. Preferring to ignore you than to come to terms with the fact that their daughter was a district sympathizer.
So as you touched up your eyeliner, you started brainstorming ways you could win over Treech’s trust. You knew he wasn’t going to be pleased to have to talk to any Capitol citizen, especially after what you saw of him during the Reapings. The resentment, the bitterness, the disgust.
However Treech hadn’t been the only person who garnered your interest. The girl from District 12, Lucy Gray had put on a spectacular performance following her reaping. Despite her misfortune, she had shown an impressive amount of spunk and moxie. Something that immediately made you gain respect for the younger girl. Coriolanus, who had originally been displeased at being selected as her mentor, had reveled in the attention his tribute gathered, which had transferred over to him. That was the thing about Coriolanus, he loved people who benefited him. You could tell from the mere way he pretended to tolerate Sejanus’s presence. Tight lipped smiles and strained conversation, Snow wasn’t always the most discreet about his true feelings. No matter how many times the district boy tried to convince you of Coriolanus, your opinion hadn’t been swayed. You knew that deep down, the blonde had a small hope of working his way into Mr. Plinth’s good graces through Sejanus. He was a leech, as your grandmother would’ve said.
Gathering your canvas bag—which was filled to the brim with chicken salad sandwiches, water bottles, various fruits you had gathered from your kitchen, and freshly baked pastries, you made your way to the front door. Although you were only given the task of taking care of one tribute, it felt inhumane to only bring food for Treech. After hearing how some of your classmates reacted to their “unlucky picks”, you knew some—if not most of them wouldn’t bother to show up.
The walk to the train station helped to settle some of your anxieties. You adored the outdoors, and wished the Capitol had spared some of their natural forests and mountains instead of urbanizing every square foot of land they could take. The land that had remained untouched however, had been combed over by you, memorizing every blade of grass and every species of bird you came across. Many mornings where you allowed yourself to skip class had been spent taking nature walks with Sejanus, and even Clemmie and Lysistrata when they gave in to your pleading.
Despite your “radical ideals”, you still took pleasure in the company of several of your fellow peers. Before Sejanus moved to the Capitol, you, Lyzzie, and Clemmie had formed an unofficial friend group, spending your school days before the war weaving flower crowns and hosting elegant tea parties. Even now the three of you took care to ensure the longevity of your sisterhood, organizing girls’ days where you binged outlawed romcoms and ordered from whatever takeout sounded the most appetizing. This wasn’t to say they were your only friends, you and Diana were both fond of atronomy, and partnered with each other whenever the topic arose during class. And Festus had been known to forge late slips for you after one of your morning excursions, in exchange for some of your homeade sweets. Even Arachne, as stuck up and anti-district as she was, held a significant amount of respect for you, which you reciprocated. Both of you admired the other’s bluntness and unwavering loyalty to their respective opinions.
Your blissful reflection of your youth was interrupted by a rather grim thought, or rather a reality check. Twenty three kids were going to die. And while you had the privilege to lose yourself in your imagination of the freedom and opportunity you would be granted once you graduated from the academy, you had spared barely a single thought to the pour souls you were about to come face-to-face with. The weight of your bag pulling down on your shoulder eased some of your guilt. You couldn’t save them, but you could ensure they were well taken care of until the bitter end.
As you approached the entrance to the train station, you caught glimpse of a bright vermillion coat. The same coat you had chosen to bury deep in your wardrobe, in favor of a more approachable summer dress. Suddenly refreshed from the excitement of meeting another student, your pace picked up and you rushed around the corner to see which of your peers had had a similar idea to yours. Though to your dismay, you were greeted by the out of breath face of none other than Coriolanus Snow. He gripped a white rose firmly in his hand, his Academy uniform sticking out like a sore thumb against the muted colors of the train station. The peculiar color of the rose indicated he must’ve convinced his grandmother or ‘Grandma’am’ as he and Tigris affectionately referred to her as, to pluck one of her precious roses from her rooftop garden.
While you weren’t a fan of Coriolanus himself, the feeling didn’t extend to the rest of the Snow family. Tigris, his cousin was a stylist—though a heavily taken advantage one, at the boutique you often frequented with Clemmie and Lyzzie on your girls’ trips. The older cousin possessed a sweet and docile demeanor that made you instantly fond of her, often stopping by at the boutique for minor readjustments that you could’ve easily fixed on your own, just for the opportunity to converse with the tall blonde. You learned a lot about the Snow family from these visits; from Coriolanus’s childhood nickname, Coryo—which you found to be endearing despite his character, to the financial struggles they had burdened since they were both orphaned during the war. These small glimpses into the boy’s life had slightly altered the way you saw him. While you would never be able to trust the boy or let alone build a rapport with him, you sympathized with his struggles and hardships.
Lifting your gaze from your bulky canvas bag to the blonde boy standing in front of you, you offered him a gentle smile. Maybe he was maturing after all. Nobody else had bothered to show up for their tribute, not even Sejanus, thought that was most likely due to the dread of having to come face-to-face with a former classmate who viewed him as a traitor.
Coriolanus returned your gesture, though a bit more forced and strained on his part. His eyes were darting back and forth all around the train station, most likely looking for the train that would be pulling in any second now carrying the tributes.
Carrying Treech.
Your quickly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing. You turned to face Coriolanus, who looked as if he was about to speak to you, when the deafening sound of a train horn sounded from down at the end of one of the tunnels.
It was now or never.
Quickly making your way towards the edge of the tracks where the train was currently pulling in, you shuffled your canvas bag from one shoulder to the other. Suddenly quite fearful of the interactions that were about to take place. You hadn’t thought of if they had food allergies or not?? What if one of them was vegetarian?? Could you afford to be vegetarian in the districts?? Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a great fume of smoke erupted from the front of the train, the grand locomotive coming to a complete stop just feet in front of you. Snow wasted no time maneuvering around you and making his way to the back of the train cars, where Lucy Gray was bound to get off. You however, stayed where you were, rocking on the heels of your mary janes as you waited for the tributes from District one to disembark. You had managed to snag a sheet off of Dean Highbottom that contained a list of all the tributes names and their respective districts when he was to intoxicated to notice. A quick glance at your cheat sheet reassured your slight qualms over forgetting their names, Facet and Velvereen.
After a brief few moments of anticipation, the doors of the car flew open and two dirty sickly looking teenagers in matching white cardigans hobbled onto the platform. Facet going first and turning around to offer his assistance to Velvereen, a gesture which she gladly accepted. This small act of chivalry seemed to restore your confidence, and before you could think, your feet were moving towards the pair. A determined smile creeping up onto your face.
“Hi! Are either of you two hungry?”
The pair quickly spun around, eyes wide and startled as if they were frightened by the mere sound of your voice. Getting a good look at their faces for the first time, they looked quite different than the grainy images you had seen from a distance in the Academy. Facet’s golden hair was matted after days of travel, and Velvereen’s heart shaped face was rounded with a softness that made appear to be much younger than she actually was.
Sliding the canvas bag off your shoulder, you held out the bag for them. Offering the goodies and an encouraging smile.
Facet was the first to reach in, hesitantly pulling out a cherry danish before ultimately backing away. After catching a glimpse of the sweets her partner had pulled out, she deemed you safe enough to approach and reached in to grab two water bottles. A peacekeeper then approached, ushering the two to keep moving across the station. They were quick to scatter off, but not before Velvereen sent a soft smile your way.
Making your way down to the next train car, you were met by Marcus and his district partner, Sabyn, both looking weary and confused as they hopped onto the platform.
“Sandwiches? Water?” You offered, slightly intimidated by Marcus’s muscular stature. Sabyn didn’t seem to hold any of the hesitation the pair from District one had, and quickly reached in to grab two sandwiches and a brownie wrapped in tinfoil. She passed one of the sandwiches off to Marcus, and while he eyed you from where he stood, he quickly scarfed the sandwich without a complaint. Sabyn took her time, gently unwrapping the warm brownie from the tinfoil, almost as if she was scared it would disappear if she moved too fast. Once unwrapped, she too quickly ate her food, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips as her hand went towards the bag for a second. However, just as her hand grazed the canvas material, she seemed to recoil as if the bag was burning to the touch.
“It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to take a second.” You were beyond relieved that you were able to provide some sort of comfort after what appeared to be an exhausting journey. Meekly, Sabyn allowed herself to reach back into the bag, this time pulling out a slice of carrot cake. She quickly stowed the sandwich and baked good in her pocket before turning to Marcus, waiting to see if he would take anything. He shook his head, already paranoid at the vulnerability they were displaying to this stranger. Sabyn seemed disappointed by his reluctance but still gave a polite thank you before turning back to walk towards her partner.
Time seemed to fly as you made your way down the cars, stopping at each one to offer your depleting bag. The pair from District three seemed skeptical, but in the end the boy, Circ took a water bottle before the two were pulled away by peacekeepers. Coral from District four was put on defense as soon as you approached, but backed down when she saw how weary her district partner, Mizzen looked. The boy who couldn’t have been older than thirteen, shot out towards the bag after Coral gave him a nod of approval, ultimately grabbing a sandwich and chocolate chip cookie which seemed to intrigue him greatly. Coral gave a curt but polite thank you as she protectively led the now buzzing boy away. Hy and Sol from District five were too dehydrated to be cautious of the welcoming stranger before them, and immediately pulled out two water bottles which they proceeded to down in a few desperate gulps. You smiled at their eagerness and pulled out a few berry danishes, offering them to Hy who had finished his water first and was now wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty jacket. He gave a quick glance to Sol, who nodded encouragingly to him. He gingerly took the pastries, offering a dimpled smile before he and Sol were ushered across the platform. You moved down to the car which contained the pair from District six, Otto and Ginnee. While both appeared to be dehydrated and emaciated, they ultimately refused anything from the canvas bag, scattering off after being startled by a peacekeeper yelling a few meters away from the three of them. Shifting the bag back onto your shoulder, you made your way down to the next car, coming to a halt as you realized who you would be met by…
The doors to the car banged open, and a teary eyed girl you recognized as Lamina appeared in the shadows. The sight of you sent a small whimper to escape from her lips and the redhead quickly vanished back into the shadows as another face emerged.
Treech looked to be almost a completely different person than the one you remembered from the Reapings. His eyes no longer wide and fearful, but rather sharp and observant. His dark curls were still hidden underneath the worn out hat, and his well defined jawline twitched as he looked out across the station, not paying any particular attention to you. After a brief scanning he hopped down onto the platform, turning around to offer his hand to Lamina in a similar fashion to that of Facet. Lamina gingerly took his hand slightly stumbling off onto the platform as she braced herself against Treech’s shoulders. Now deciding that this would be the time to introduce yourself as his mentor, you cleared your throat before approaching the pair.
Lamina who had already noticed you, cowered behind Treech, very much still on edge from the Reapings as well as the train ride. Confused at Lamina’s sudden fright, Treech turned to see what had scared her, and was slightly shocked to see that it was not a peacekeeper or another tribute, but rather a girl.
“Hi, You must be Treech! i’m Y/N, your mentor!”
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A/N
Sorry there isn’t as much Treech content this chapter as y’all probably wanted 😭. I don’t want to rush this series and want to spend the first few chapters really building the MC’s background. The good news is that my classes are dying down for winter break and i’ll be posting A LOT in the coming weeks, might even post a third chapter tomorrow 😌.
Would you guys like me to make a playlist to go along with this? Or mood boards?
xoxo
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boneblushed · 9 months
Text
Untouchable
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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synopsis It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy learn to work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.
wc 3k
When Rafe walks into the library on Wednesday afternoon, he tries hard to act as though he didn’t mean to arrive on time. You’re already set up at that table near the back, the one that he knows you’re partial to — another fact he’ll pretend to forget. Sturdy oak bookshelves surround the study area, shielding your figure from prying eyes.
“Cameron,” you acknowledge as his footsteps near, keeping your gaze trained on the book in front of you. The words jumble. His overgrown locks, erring on the softer side of damp, drip thick water droplets onto the table as he halts just short of it.
“Y/L/N,” he responds, equally as formal. A little less as he takes a seat beside you, recognises your closeness. He’s a heady mix of chlorine and vetiver cologne, the body heat on his skin pressing over you in waves.
You blink. He isn’t late, like you’d expected him to be, so you find yourself grappling for another critique to fill the air. You and him have always preferred cutting jibes over menial pleasantries.
Well, mostly you. “Swim practice?” You ask, turning your head to face him.
“Small talk?” He returns, raising his eyebrows playfully. He doesn’t expect your eyes to widen the way they do before you look away again, almost as though the insinuation has you feeling a little abashed. It’s fleeting, but Rafe Cameron notices anyway. He wills himself not to read into it.
“You’re right,” you say, feeling your cheeks warm and clearing your throat in dissent. “No need to make this meeting any longer than it needs to be.”
“Not what I meant,” Rafe replies, leaning back in his chair until it’s balancing on its hind legs. “Just surprised that you’re being nice to me for once.”
You scoff. “That was hardly nice.”
“So you agree?” Rafe asks, cocking his head to one side. “You’re playing hard to get on purpose?”
“I’m not playing anything,” you respond irritatedly, your traitorous cheeks burning. “I just have zero interest in being your friend.”
Rafe rests his hands behind his head matter-of-factly, the posture change dropping your gaze to his broad torso. “Who said anything about friends?”
“Cameron,” you warn, bringing your eyes back up to his face.
“Colleagues,” he adds in lieu of an apology, raising his eyebrows. “Partners. Why? What’d you think I was implying?”
“You know what,” you accuse, not answer, folding your arms across your chest.
He grins at this, triumphant, which only makes you want to do the opposite. “And here I thought you were somehow immune to my flirting.”
“You call it flirting,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him, “I call it harassment.”
Rafe falters. The hind legs of his chair hit the ground with a low thud, and he leans forward a little, the furrow in his brow evident. You aren’t used to him so sombre. Something in your stomach twists at the revelation.
“Damn,” he replies then, his voice lower now, gruffer. “That bad?”
Maybe it’s his sincerity that throws you. “I — okay, not quite,” you say, back-tracking without meaning to. “I don’t know. A little.”
Rafe combs his fingers through his damp hair, sheepish. Droplets of warm water fly onto your open notebook. “I thought you liked arguing with me.”
“I wouldn’t say —” you falter at his knowing expression, drawing your bottom lip between his teeth, “— okay, maybe a bit.”
“I thought it was our thing.”
You frown. “We don’t have a thing.”
“Shit, clearly,” Rafe replies defeatedly, dropping his hand back onto the table. “I… have you always felt like this?”
“Pretty much since that prank in sophomore year, yeah,” you mutter abashedly, a tell-tale heat creeping up your cheeks.
Rafe furrows his brow. “Prank?”
“Don’t make me repeat it, Cameron,” you say, the heat growing ten-fold.
“I don’t remember a prank, though,” he replies, frowning bemusedly. “You don’t mean that time I fucked with the light fixture before our math test, right?”
“No,” you pause, frowning in tandem. “Though to be fair, that was a major pain in everyone’s asses.”
“What then?”
“When you asked me out, you douchebag,” you reproach, reasonably incensed. “How can you not remember that? Yelling across the classroom with your little posse surrounding you?”
Rafe angles back in surprise, his blue eyes widening. “What? That wasn’t a prank.”
“Cameron,” you say, in an as if sort of tone.
“Y/L/N.” His voice is rougher, gravelly around the edges. Desperate sounding. “I mean,” he runs his fingers through his hair in a rush, “fair enough that you thought it was — not exactly my greatest moment. But you had to have known I had the biggest thing for you back then. I thought I made it so fucking obvious.”
“A thing for me?” You echo, warm cheeks becoming an overwhelmingly warm neck.
“Fuck,” he exhales, “clearly I didn’t though, huh? Shit, I’m sorry. This whole time you thought —”
“It’s fine,” you say abruptly. Talking about this is making your stomach hurt more. “I didn’t think anything, alright?”
“Let me make it up to you,” Rafe tries. “Stop with the silly comments.”
You don’t know how to tell him that will somehow make it worse. At least with his wayward flirting and cocky jibes, you always know exactly what to expect from him — nothing. You have a funny feeling a rogue Rafe Cameron will hurt you more than a predictable one. Be harder to keep at arms length, an ignorable distance away from you.
“You know how you can make it up to me?” You ask, pointing down at the notebook in front of you. “By pulling your own weight.”
“Pulling it? I mean… I can definitely bench it.” He tries not to grin when this earns a glare. “You’re right, sorry. Force of habit.”
You eye him warily before looking away, the half-filled page below you an obnoxious white. “I’m not interested in your excuses, Cameron.”
“No. Of course not.” Rafe nods agreeably, reaching into his bag and pulling out his Macbook. “You’re interested in a collaborative effort.”
“Actually,” you say, making a face. “That’s what Cromwell’s interested in.”
“My six-pack, then?”
“Cameron.”
“Sorry, shit, listen,” Rafe replies, grinning sheepishly. “Pulling my own weight, yeah? I’m already doing that Y/L/N.”
He opens up a half-written speech on his laptop, sliding it across the hardwood table toward you. His elbow grazes the side of your torso as he does so, nudging a bolt of static through your skin and into your ribcage.
You squint down at the document in front of you, the frown on your face acquiescing a smidge. “You did this?” A skeptical pause. “All on your own?”
“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe replies, leaning in to look over the script in tandem. His bicep feels warm as it presses into you, chlorine and musk, overwhelming body heat. “No way a jock could actually know that many words, huh?”
You roll your eyes at him, trying to hide your mirth. “You’ve missed more classes for Varsity crap than I can count on my fingers, Cameron.”
“Damn,” he murmurs, ducking his head closer. “Didn’t realise you kept tabs, Y/L/N.”
You realise then that Rafe has zero concept of personal space. “Because I don’t,” you say, clearly your throat awkwardly. “Let’s stay on topic.”
“Yes ma’am,” Rafe responds, his voice still low, a little rough. He pulls his laptop back toward him, glancing over the brainstorm scrawled over your notebook’s pages.
Slowly but surely, you manage to collate your ideas into a coherent opening speech. The fact that you share the same goals, a similar vision, definitely means that this process is far easier than you’d expected. It’s strange, agreeing on so much whilst being so different. Perhaps you didn’t expect him to care about the Academy as much as you do.
By the time your penultimate draft is typed up, the Autumn sun is beginning its descent into the horizon.
You lean over his forearm as the pair of you read over it, his neck bowed a little, dirty-blonde locks flopping over his forehead. Once damp, they’re fluffy with static, completely dry. Not to mention, his shoulder is paperweight heavy, a comfortable wall to rest on as you backspace or enter.
Too comfortable. The pair of you read over the last line in tandem, once, twice, three times, an excuse to linger against each other.
As your gaze drops to the bottom of the screen, it glosses over the time in the corner. 5.30pm — has it really been that long? You clear your throat abruptly, pushing away from him with a start.
“I think that’s good,” you say.
He regards you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I’m pretty happy with it.”
“Well then.” You gather up your belongings and reach for your tote; it’s clear that you’re in a hurry, a revelation that makes Rafe’s chest feel funny. “I guess I’ll see you —”
“How’re you getting home?” Rafe interrupts.
“Walking?” You reply, sending him a funny look. “I don’t live very far.”
As you push back your chair and make to stand, Rafe’s hand on your shoulder demands a pause. It presses warm static into the skin underneath your blouse. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, Cameron,” you huff, shaking him off reluctantly.
“Alright, well,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck, “you’ll be here early on Friday morning?”
You nod. “Of course I will.”
“Let me pick you up, then,” he says. “Save you the trouble of walking.”
“Walking isn’t a trouble.”
“It’s meant to rain on Friday,” Rafe lies.
You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve got an umbrella.”
“And I’ve got a free seat in my car,” Rafe returns, throwing his laptop into his bag and standing up too. It forces your gaze to move up as he straightens to his full height, the evening sun creating a golden halo around his head. “C’mon. I’ll even let you play deep-cut Taylor Swift on the way.”
“And why,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes out of habit, “would you let me do that?”
“Because we’re friends,” Rafe answers simply.
“Partners,” you correct.
“Same difference, though, yeah?”
“Hm,” you say, turn around and beginning to walk away. “Is it, though?”
“I sure hope so.”
On Friday morning, Rafe Cameron breaks a record. He manages to elicit anger at an alarmingly early seven o’clock.
When you climb into his pick-up truck with worn-out limbs and a tired expression, you don’t expect to find an iced latte sitting in your cup holder.
You frown down at it reproachfully, sending him an accusatory look. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows, his own beverage already half-finished. “Who said it was for you?” He asks, his blue eyes full of mirth. “Maybe I need two coffees this early in the morning.”
“Cameron,” you groan.
“You’re allowed to say thank you, you know,” he replies, putting the car into drive. He nudges the drink expectantly before resting his hand back on the gearshift, his rough fingers flexing and relaxing intermittently.
“Thank you,” you mutter, accepting it begrudgingly.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs back, trying not to smile. “You’d think I was making you drink poison or something.”
You take a frustrated sip before responding to him. “I just — you didn’t have to do that, alright?” You repeat. “Next one’s on me.”
“This isn’t an IOU, Y/L/N, think my mom’d roll over in her grave if it was,” Rafe replies, and then he falters, as if he hadn’t meant to mention her so casually. “Partners buy each other coffees all the time, yeah? It isn’t a big deal.”
It’s a big deal to me, you think. You have a funny feeling partners will prove a slippery slope when it comes to him.
“Whatever,” you mutter, taking another pull of your coffee. Miraculously, it’s been made exactly the way you like it — with oat milk and a pump of vanilla, notes of brown sugar sweetening every sip. You try not to read into this.
“Got any plans for the weekend?” Rafe asks, evidently making small talk.
“None.” A pause. “You?”
“Kelce’s having a thing,” Rafe responds, glancing over at you fleetingly. “Saturday night. Meant to turn into a pretty big rager.”
“Right,” you say. “Cool.”
Rafe slows to a stop at the traffic light preceding the Academy, its brilliant turrets painted a sunrise ochre. “Come.”
“Are you asking or commanding, Cameron?” You return, raising your eyebrows at him.
“Neither,” he replies, grinning roguishly. “Begging, actually.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“None of my friends are going,” you answer simply, raising your eyebrows at him. His head is lolled to your side and yours to his, close enough in proximity to discern every handsome crease on his face.
“I’m going,” he replies, his gaze falling over your features, slow.
The light turns green, then, saving you from having to think of a response to his admission. You turn away from him and take another sip of your iced latte, waiting for him to pull into a park before promptly changing the subject.
“Straight to the assembly hall, you think?” You ask, unbuckling and getting out of his pick-up truck.
“Crommy’ll already be there, yeah,” Rafe responds, slurping down the last of his beverage before aiming it at the rubbish bin in the distance. When he propels his plastic cup towards it and misses, you can’t help the peal of laughter that bubbles out of you.
He turns his head toward you, pleasantly surprised by your mirth. It isn’t often that Rafe Cameron is on the receiving end of your pretty giggle.
“Damn, Cameron,” you say, polishing off your own drink before doing the same, your cup landing cleanly in the bin in juxtaposition. “Don’t you play, like, three different varsity sports?”
“And none of them involve shooting hoops,” he responds, faux-defensive. “Funny how that works, huh?”
“I got it in easy,” you say matter-of-factly
“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with your dad being the basketball coach,” Rafe returns, raising his eyebrows.
This brings a weighty pause. You know that he doesn’t mean to insinuate anything by it, but you always get defensive when your father is brought up. It’s no secret, really, that he’s the only reason you’re at the Academy; your family is middle-class at best, and you’d never have been able to afford the fees without his aforementioned employment benefits.
Perhaps it’s why you feel the overt need to prove yourself at every step.
You clear your throat awkwardly, breaking eye contact and pushing past him. “Let’s go.”
It takes a beat for Rafe to pick up his discarded up and throw it into the bin, another to grapple with your sudden change in demeanour. He locks his car over his shoulder and jogs forward to catch you up, his large shoulder nudging yours as he falls into your step.
“You good?” He asks tentatively, frowning down at you.
“More than,” you answer curtly, the handsome assembly hall looming overhead. “You ready?”
And just like that, your guard is up again. You exchange pleasantries with Mr Cromwell and take your designated seat on the stage, but Rafe can tell that the smile on your face isn’t genuine — there’s something hidden within it, something pained that makes him ache.
He needs to see your real smile again, bad. He takes a seat beside you and watches the student body file in, your proximity filling the air with vanilla and bergamot perfume. Your skin looks softer up close, as if that’s fucking possible, and your hands are clasped neatly in your lap as you look out into the crowd. Rafe is struck with the sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out and squeeze them.
Instead, he leans into your side and ducks his head, his lips at the shell of your ear. “You remember the head boy and girl when we were freshers?”
The gravelly timbre of his voice makes you shiver without meaning to. “Yeah, Lance and Peyton. Why?”
“Christ,” he murmurs, faux-wistful. “Peyton fucking Saunders. I remember walking into this hall for our first assembly and seeing her sitting up here just like you are right now. It was genuinely love at first right, y’know that?”
“Of course it was,” you huff, less indignant and more amused. “The whole school was obsessed with her, huh?”
He nods. “Reckon that’s what happening out there as we speak?”
“What d’you mean?” You murmur back, frowning bemusedly.
“All these scrawny kids heading in,” he whispers, his lips still at your ear, ever-present. “Reckon they’re all falling in love with you in this very moment?”
“Shut up,” you admonish, breathing out an exasperated laugh. “I am not Peyton Saunders.”
“It’s fucking tragic,” he adds lowly, ignoring you. “All the tiny hearts you’re going to break this year. I feel for them, really.”
“Cause you were so heart-broken when Peyton didn’t give you the time of day?” You muse.
“Still recovering, Y/L/N, show some compassion,” Rafe answers mock-reproachfully, shaking his head.
“For you, Cameron?” You ask, your true smile shining through now, a beam of golden light. “Never.”
Triumphant, Rafe simply grins in tandem, settling back in his chair as Headmaster Cromwell approaches the podium. His opening address, succeeded by the not-so-shocking announcement of his upcoming retirement, receives deafening applause, a teacher-led standing ovation.
Though it’s a tough act to follow, you and Rafe recite your speech beautifully. There’s harmony in the way that you divide it up between the pair of you; a togetherness that feels natural, almost as though you were born to be partners.
Near the back of the assembly hall, Kelce Smith shares a knowing look with his friend, Dalton Haynes.
“They’re definitely going to hook up before we get to winter break,” he whispers through the corner of his mouth.
Dalton thinks on this for a moment. “Winter break? No way. Have you met Y/N? Reckon it’ll take her until just before prom.”
“Yeah?” Kelce raises his eyebrows. “How much are you willing to bet on that?”
Dalton grins roguishly, sending a furtive glance around the assembly hall. “Hundred bucks?”
“You’ve got a deal, Haynes,” Kelce mutters under his breath, just as you and Rafe finish speaking.
As they shake on it, the room dissolves into applause. Winter break or prom, it appears that your togetherness is inevitable.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
Note
Hey, I wanted to ask if you could write Kieran x gender neutral reader. Maybe they were friends when younger, and they met again after the indigo disk plot. But now the reader went from shy with long hair to extroverted with a more goth punk style and short hair. They go to Blueberry Academy with friends, and Kieran is kinda jealous of them, like MC, for it being so easy for them to make friends. So they have a sit down and talk it out with maybe a bit of romance sprinkled in.
I hope this isn't too long!! I really love your writing.
Aw thank you! This is fine and I decided to give Reader a Toxtricity as their partner Pokémon
..........
"Uwaaahh...uhuuuhuuh.."
"H-Hey, um...are you okay?"
Sniffling, the young boy looked up from his knees to see you standing over him, concerned. He tried wiping away his tears, but they just kept coming as he recalled some rather mean words spoken to him.
"I'm..f-fine.." He lied, clutching the broken pieces of his ogre mask.
"Are you sure? Because you're sitting all alone here, away from the festival with a broken mask.." You quietly pointed out, frowning.
"...the..jerks over there did it." He finally admitted, his gaze going to the fenced area where some kids were hanging around. "I-I thought they were my friends...and then they called me stupid for likin' the Ogre from those stories..."
"What? They sound like real bullies."
"A-All I said was that....I didn't think it was a bad guy..and then they...they told me they didn't wanna be my friend anymore...a-and now...I-I don't have ANY friends!! WAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"
Although you were startled by his bawling, you couldn't help but feel bad for him. Leaving him alone certainly wasn't an option, so you sat down beside him, noticing the small Sentret that was trying to comfort him.
"There, there.." You awkwardly patted his back, feeling your face growing warm. Hopefully this wasn't too weird and you were actually helping this poor guy. "I don't have any friends, either. But I can be yours...i-if you'd like."
With a small hiccup, Kieran looked at you, his golden eyes large and full of tears. "Y-You wanna be my friend?" He sniffled. "Even though I like the "bad guy" of those stories?"
"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." You nodded softly, offering him a tiny smile. "I can relate to the Ogre, too. How lonely it must feel up there in the mountains..and um...how it just wants to be accepted."
He smiled back a little, although he was still depressed over the current state of his mask as he kept staring at it.
"Could I...buy you a new one of those? And a candy apple if you're hungry?"
Blinking, he gazed back up at you, stunned by your generosity. "Y-You don't have to do that.."
"But I want to. I just got my allowance so..I don't mind it." You shrugged, before you heard a familiar cry and looked to see your Toxel hobbling away from the festival grounds...
With candy razz berries on a stick.
"Oh no! Tox.." You bemoaned, huffing as the little baby Pokémon innocently waddled into your arms. "You can't wander off like that..a-and you certainly can't be stealing! You know we gotta pay for this, right?"
"Taahaa.." They cooed, already munching on the sweet treat.
"....fine..I'll let this slide because you're a cutie."
"Is that..a Toxel?"
"...o-oh!" Embarrassed, you turned back to Kieran and showed him Toxel. "Yes..sorry. This is my partner. We've been training a lot lately..but...as you can see, they've got ways to go. Haha.."
"You've done Pokémon battles? Wowzers.." He gazed at it in awe.
"Yeah..have you?" You asked.
".....no. I-I don't know anything about them. They're cool to watch but..I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to fight one myself.." He sighed, petting Sentret on the head. "I'm scared of Sentret getting hurt..e-especially by those..rude people."
At this revelation, your shoulders slumped. "Look....I get it, but if they see that you're afraid to battle, then...they'll just keep pushing you around."
"I know. I-I don't wanna be afraid anymore. But...my grandparents think I'm too young to be a trainer, a-and my sister thinks I'm too weak to even try...so I don't see a point..."
"..my own family doubted me, too." You remarked. "It was hard for Toxel and I, but..we had to go against their wishes. We had to become strong enough to stand up to our bullies..and we did. Now they fear the day this little sweetie grows up into a strong Toxtricity."
With a small coo, Toxel giggled and nuzzled your cheek with their forehead so they didn't accidentally shock you. "Taaaaataaa.."
"Yep." You giggled, before glancing back at Kieran, who looked extremely inspired by your words. "Maybe your Sentret will become a strong Furret someday, too. But...you'll have to train it first."
"And..wh-where do I start, if I may ask?" His voice became even quieter than yours.
"How about after the festival? You and I can have a practice battle."
He blinked. "..l-like tonight? With you?"
"Sure...if you're not busy, of course-"
"Oh no, I-I can definitely do that tonight!"
"Great! We'll just..go over the basics, that's all." You hopped to your feet as Toxel climbed onto your shoulder, and you offered your hand to the boy. "Also I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm [y/n]."
"Kieran." He had a shaky smile on his own face as he took your hand, letting you pull him up. "Th-Thanks for cheering me up...I think I'm ready to go back into the hall."
"Alright." With a small chuckle, you tied up your long hair before donning your mask, taking his broken one.
"C'mon, Kieran. First stop is the sweets shop...which candy apple do you like?"
.
.
.
.
"....and in Galar, Toxtricity had the power to Gigantamax. And they could turn into this awesome creature with a HUGE radio tower on their back. Oh, and they attack with a guitar made out of electricity!"
"Oh my Arceus!"
"That is sick!"
"We NEED to take a trip to Galar next year."
"Bro, maybe Piers can give you some more fashion tips. Because the punk is rocking."
"Thanks, haha..maybe I will."
As Kieran walked through the doors to the League Club, he heard the laughter and chatter of a group of people who were gathered at the table. Seeing new faces always caught him off-guard, considering how he somewhat left the organization in shambles..
He wasn't expecting so many to join, let alone scrap together enough BP to change the room's layout and usher in new additions--like that itemizer machine..
But it seems the rest of the Elite Four, plus Florian/Juliana, managed to rebuild the foundation and keep it alive. And even he thought this was for the best, as his burdens as both champion and leader were finally lifted from his shoulders.
While he hated that Paldean for "dethroning" him at first...he was actually relieved.
Now he was spending his time trying to make amends with everybody, feeling ashamed for the way he acted towards them--especially to the club members he took his anger out on. He kicked out one guy all because he couldn't meet his impossible standards.
Kieran did make sure he was back in the club..but even so, it took a while for that kid to forgive him.
He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Some people were still going to be bitter over what he did.
Fortunately, he can now enter the club room without feeling like everyone was staring at him, nor could he sense the heavy tension from the Elite Four as he walked past them. They just greeted him like an old friend before going back to their discussions.
When he was about to introduce himself to your group, however, he froze up the moment your eyes met his own...
At first, he was bewildered by the gothic-punk attire you've managed to incorporate into your uniform, complete with spiky bands and makeup. He's never seen any other student here test the waters of the dress code like you did.
Yet that wasn't what shocked him, but rather...the person underneath all of that.
You looked awfully familiar...
Where has he seen you before?
Funny enough, you were asking yourself that same question as you stared back up at this guy, trying to figure out why he was giving you such an odd look.
At first it seemed judgy.
But then you saw those familiar golden eyes, the black hair with purple highlights....you only ever knew one person with those characteristics.
"No way..Kieran?"
"....[y/n]?" He murmured, stunned. "You..remember me?"
"It took me a second, but wow...it really is you!" You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I haven't seen you in years, dude! And I know what you're gonna say...yes, I know I look like a Team Yell member. But I just like the fashion back in Spikemuth. It stuck with me."
"Wowzers...you went to Galar...?"
"Oh yeah. Went there to study and ended up staying a bit longer than I meant to...but it was great." Smiling, you rubbed the top of your head. "I got myself a nice trim while there. It was a much-needed change. Speaking of which....I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up." You raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah..it was..getting in the way." Kieran brushed back his bangs, still reeling from the shock of seeing his childhood friend here at his school after all these years.
Not to mention how you presented yourself as this confident and boisterous person. Were you really that same shy long-haired friend he knew back in Kitakami?
"[Y/n], you know this guy?"
You both glanced back at your friend group, and you nodded. "Yep. He's an old friend from the Land of Kitakami. Honest to Arceus I had no idea he attended this school..but then again I literally just enrolled today. Either way, it's a nice surprise. Glad to see you again, Ki."
"Same." He nodded, although there seemed to be a certain sadness in his eyes as he stared at the people surrounding you, shoulders slumped. "Anyways, uh...I wanted to welcome you all to the club. I-I'll be back later. Bye, [y/n]."
With a nervous swallow, he quickly turned tail and left the clubroom, while your friends wondered why he looked at them all that way...
You believed you already knew the reason..
But when you saw their confused gazed, you just smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about him, he's shy."
"Shy? But that guy used to be this school's champion!"
"...no way, really?" Your eyes widened, resting your arms on the tablr as you leaned towards one of your friends. "Tell me more."
.........
At the end of the day, the club was ready to close up shop. Everybody else had left except for you and Toxtricity.
You volunteered to stay late, picking up the messes your friends left behind, such as the opened snacks and sodas (some of them being from Drayton, of course). Amarys did promise you some BP for all your hardwork and willingness to accept responsibility, so that was motivation enough.
Despite the way you look, you weren't always some rebellious punk.
Just as you have both finished and were about to lock the door..you noticed Kieran approaching from down the hall, and he looked rather serious.
Finally, this was your chance to talk to him.
"Oh hey, Ki."
"Hey, [y/n]..is it just you here?" His gaze went past yours, eyes darting around the empty room.
"Nobody but me and Tox." You gestured to Toxtricity, who nodded and smiled, strumming the organs on their chest.
"I see they're all grown up, too." He remarked, sounding a bit more relaxed after realizing nobody else was around.
"That reminds me..how's your Sentret doing?"
"He's a Furret now. And he's doing just fine...but not on my main team, anymore. He's more like...an emotional support Pokémon, I guess?"
"Fair enough." You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around your companion's shoulders. "I learned there was more to Pokémon than just battling. They can be your best buddy, too."
"Right.." Kieran nodded, his smile fading.
You frowned a little. "Listen..I know this is kinda awkward. We haven't spoken in years, and I still feel bad for moving out of Kitakami without-"
"No, it's not that...I'm happy to see you again. I just.." He sighed, looking down at the floor. "You said..today was your first day here, right?"
"Yeah."
"I can't believe you've already made so many friends. It must feel nice.."
You were confused at his rather sour tone of voice, although you were anticipating this sort of confrontation, recalling how often he struggled to make and keep friends--besides you, of course.
But even now, it seems those insecurities never left him.
"D-Did I say that out loud?" Suddenly he tensed up, appearing a little scared. "I'm sorry, you can ignore me. I'm...tired. I-It's been a long day, so I'm just gonna-"
"Wait, Kieran."
Before he could turn around and leave, you took ahold of his arm, and he looked back at you with shock. "They didn't replace you if that's what you're worried about."
"...it's not that, either."
"Then...what is it?"
"You'll think it's stupid...." He mumbled, shaking his head.
"It's not stupid if it's clearly bothering you. Look, let's just..sit down and talk about it, okay? I'm not here to judge."
He blinked at your proposal, but eventually decided to sit at the table with you. Toxtricity crouched down next to your chair so you could pet them on the head.
It took a few moments for Kieran to start talking, yet with your silent encouragement...he finally spoke up.
"How do you make it look so...easy?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean...you have all these friends now while I..." His voice trailed off, fists clenched on the table as he tried to keep himself calm. "..I-I can't name a single one other than you and Florian/Juliana. You'd think becoming champion and club president would make me super popular. But the truth is that it only made me feel more isolated. So how did you do it? How did you become so confident? Is there a secret or some code word I never knew about?"
"There's...no secret, Ki." You responded, your heart sinking. "Friendships just sorta..happen. Like ours did that day those jerks made fun of you at the festival of masks. I guess it was just....up to fate."
"...well I wish fate gave me the same luck as you." He bitterly muttered under his breath.
"Luck? No. That's...look, I'm not popular, and I'd never wanna be. Those people are my only friends here aside from you." You huffed. "I know I've changed since we last saw each other...but I'm still that same kid from before-"
"I barely recognized you, [y/n]." He bluntly pointed out. "We grew up together in the same place...but you went to Galar, changed your whole looks, and made so many friends here on your first day. Then there's me, who...h-hasn't really changed at all." His shoulders became slumped. "I've done things I'm ashamed of, and I'm trying to fix them, but I just feel...stuck. Like I'm never gonna move on from being that whiny little kid from Kitakami who keeps wishing he was somebody else.."
Your gaze softened a little, finally understanding his perspective. "Well..I personally don't see that anymore. I see you're trying to change for the better, and that's great. You should be proud of that."
Kieran blinked as your hand came to rest over his own, his heart skipping a beat. Yet he kept his focus on you and your comforting smile, despite finding it difficult to see the truth in your words.
He could feel that self-doubt festering inside him again.
"But..y-you don't know what I-"
"People here told me such awesome things about you, and I almost couldn't believe them."
He stared at you. "What? Really?"
"Yeah, dude! You never told me how your team uses a competitive setup with Rain Dance on the first turn...or how your Applin is all grown up into a Hydrapple. Hell, I didn't even know that was an existing evolution until today, so you taught me something new-"
However, you stopped rambling upon hearing a small sniffle coming from your friend. You then saw his lips trembling as he tried pushing back tears with his sleeve.
Internally you began to panic. "Ki? What's wrong?"
"I-I'm sorry. It's just....everybody here talks about my Pokémon and battle tactics all the time, but never about me." He whimpered. "I-I want people to like me for....me, you know?"
You nodded sympathetically, gently squeezing his hand. Guilt swelled in your heart as you never realized how lonely he must've felt since you left...and right now you probably made him feel ten times worse.
"You really are a great guy, though. Anyone would be lucky to get to know the real you."
"........."
Now you were a bit stumped on what to say next, as he was staring at the table now, sniffling like a little kid. And you began wracking your brain for any possible way you could cheer him up.
Then an idea sprung into your mind.
You were going to save it for a later occasion, but...now seemed to be the right time.
Even Toxtricity agreed with you, as they nudged your arm with a low growl, wishing you'd finally fess up and let him know how you truly felt about him.
Your heart was beating fast, but you pushed away the nerves and momentarily let go of his hand to retrieve a pokeball from your bag. He seemed too caught-up in his own thoughts to notice, still wiping away his tears.
"But y'know what could be better than having friends?"
With watery eyes, Kieran managed to look at you straight on. "What?"
You didn't say a word, instead turning his hand over and placing a love ball into his palm. He looked at you with confusion, before gasping as the device suddenly opened on its own to reveal....
A Shiny Applin.
"Wowzers.." He gawked. "So this is what their shinies look like??"
"Yep. Straight from Galar."
"The love ball is an interesting choice.." He remarked, watching as the Applin jumped onto the table and gazed at him. "But..while I appreciate the gift, I-I....don't really see how owning a shiny is gonna help-"
"Oh, so he doesn't know, Tox..." You whispered to your companion, who simply snickered back.
"Tahaahaa.."
"....know what?" Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the smirks you and Toxtricity were exchanging, growing more and more confused and concerned. "Can someone explain?"
"In Galar, people give Applins to each other as a romantic gesture." You stated bluntly, feeling your face burn up....but you prayed he would finally get the hint.
It took him about five seconds, his jaw dropping. "What??? Y-You.....really see me that way?" His heart began racing all over again. "Why me, though?"
"I like you for you, Ki. And that's all there is to it." You leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, watching as his eyes went wide and his blush worsened. "Hm, I guess that shy little cutie is still in there after all."
"C'mon..stop that.." Huffing, he shrunk back into his jacket in a vain attempt to hide his flusteredness. "I-I do like you, too."
"I'm glad, and I promise..I'm sticking around for a long, long time." You looked to Toxtricity, who strummed a small riff on their chest. "I owe Tox one for finding that love ball for me. I was gonna save it for some fairy type, but...I think I found a better use for it."
All Kieran could do was smile and nod, taking your hands into his own. While he was still too flushed to properly speak, he was nowhere near as sad as he was before your confession.
You were right.
This was a LOT better than having friends.
Because now he had you.
While both of your looks and personalities have definitely changed, the love and care you had for each other never did.
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mychoombatheroomba · 3 months
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All My Love and Terror (Leon Kennedy x Reader)
A dog is hit by a car and Leon runs into traffic to save it, and it forces a revelation on you. (Inspired by Hozier's "Abstract (Psychopomp)" and cross-posted from my Ao3)
Word count: 1,056
The dog lives!
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He doesn’t even hesitate. 
All it takes is the sound of a yelp, pained and sharp and like a knife through the heart. The sound of an animal in pain is one of the most heartbreaking sounds in the world, you think, and you hear it that day. You turn to face the street, and the car doesn’t even stop. It just keeps going, and you see a blur of tan fur turning over and over on the asphalt. It comes to a stop, then, and there’s silence for a moment. The conversation you were having dies as your eyes go wide, realizing what you’ve just seen. 
The dog lies there in the road, the leash that it had torn free from its owner’s hands splayed out around it, and you feel your body chill in the evening air. Hands going up to your face as you stand there, frozen, unsure of what to do. There’s a woman screaming on the other side of the street, and more cars passing . . . 
And then movement at your side, and a whole new type of fear seizes you as your friend rushes forward. 
Towards the road. 
Towards the dog lying there. 
“Leon!” You cry, reaching for him, but he’s already gone. Already passing the first lane of traffic, running for the animal that he doesn’t know. That might already be dead for all you know. And for a moment, as cars tear forward, heading right for him, all you can think is that they won’t be able to stop in time. That this gloomy day that he’d come to visit you from the police academy would be the last one you’d see him on. That you’re about to watch your best friend die. That he will join the dog on the pavement, and you won’t know what to do. 
And then you’re running, too.  
People are shouting at the two of you, but you don’t hear them. All you see is Leon, narrowly passing the second lane and missing the car that speeds past, its horn a blaring warning that would have made no difference, if Leon had been a second slower. 
And it occurs to you then that there’s nothing your presence really accomplishes. You cannot stop the cars and more than he can. You’re too far behind him to push him out of the way if one comes too close. There’s nothing to stop the two of you from dying there together, now, and you’ve never been more scared than you are now.
But you keep going. 
You keep going, feeling the wind rush by you as cars pass. 
And then you see it. Leon, kneeling in the road next to the dog. Even with everything around you, the tires against the road, the cars blurring past you, you see him in perfect clarity. Like the world stills so you can see this moment. 
You see the dog as Leon rests a hand against it, so gently your heart breaks. You see the animal shake, and then it looks up at Leon, and it stills. Blinks. You see the fear leave the dog’s body, and then you see Leon smile down at it, his eyes shining with tears. And his smile is so relieved and so beautiful you’re sure that you will never see anything more breathtaking in all your life. 
And you know then, as you rush between moving traffic, that you love him. 
You’re by his side, then, and he looks up at you, his expression becoming horror. He says your name, but you stand, raising your hand just as a car approaches. You stand between it and him and the dog, and you know you won’t be hit. Somehow, you know. 
It stops just in time, and Leon is up behind you, hoisting the poor dog in his arms gently. And you are his shield as the two of you make your way across the rest of the road, the cars finally stopping for you all as you signal for them to. 
And when you reach the other side, the woman who was screaming is there. The dog’s owner. 
The two of you stay with her as she calls a friend for help, Leon holding the dog as it whimpers in his arms, his hands petting it gently, soothing it. And you can only stare at him, trying to wrap your head around how stupid, how selfless he’d been. How he’d risked his life for a dog that wasn’t his, that he didn’t even know. 
The woman’s friend eventually comes, and you help load the dog into the back seat of her car. It was still breathing. With a tearful smile, the woman thanks you both, but you know the credit is all Leon’s. That he was the brave one. 
And you want to strangle him for it. You turn to scream at him when they’re gone, to tell him that he should never have done something so dangerous . . . but then his arms are around you, holding you close. 
He takes a trembling breath, and you realize that you weren’t the only one who’d been scared. 
It makes the fact that he’d run out into the street all the more incredible to you. 
And so, you hug him back there on the sidewalk, the two of you just breathing in the fall air, feeling realizations come over you both. Because this has changed things. For both of you. You can feel it in the way he clings to you, like he’s not sure you’re really there. And in the way you do the same, your fingers bunched in his jacket, holding him against you. 
And after a moment, he pulls away to look at you. “You went after me,” he says, in disbelief. 
You just nod. “Of course I did.” The words were spoken like they were the most obvious thing in the world, because you knew you would always follow him. Whatever danger he threw himself into, you would be right there by his side. 
There was no other choice. Not for you. 
And as he realized that much, as your words took root in him, you watched as a happier smile bloomed across his face. One that shined brighter than the streetlights around you, the lights of the cars . . . the sun itself. 
__________________________________
A/N: Just a little something from my Leon collection! Which, as of now, is just this and my 30+ chapter fic that I'm debating posting chapter for chapter here. It's been months and this man still has me in a choke hold, help.
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cherryredstars · 7 months
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: Some Fluff, Talk of Death/Afterlife, Suggested Depression, Suggested Self-Harm, Suggested Breakdown, Suggested Anxiety, Light Smut
Word Count: 3.7K
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“I recognized you instantly. All of our lives flashed through my mind in a split second. I felt a pull so strongly towards you that I almost couldn't stop it.” ― J. Sterling
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It was a hot and humid day. The type of days Miguel hates the most in September because the heat made him uncomfortable and the humidity made his hair frizzy and lose its shape. It was even worse while sitting in a stuffy classroom with ACs that never worked. The rooms were always filled with the strong smell of teenage bodies and dust from janitorial neglection over the summer months. In addition, the beginning weeks of school were a bore with nothing to actually do but sit there and listen to underpaid teachers repeat the same school rules they hear in the beginning of every school semester. 
He was sure he was about to fall asleep at that moment. The heat made him drowsy and the monotone voice of his teacher morphed into white noise. It was nearing the end of the day anyways, and too early into the school year for any teachers to give enough of a shit to write anyone up. He couldn’t take another second of school expectations and the disgusting mix of AXE body spray and floral perfume. But, now when he thinks back on that boring class, he can’t take it on himself to fully hate it. Because, in the same second that he looked toward the clock above the door to check the time, his life changed forever. 
It was instant. Maybe not instant instant, but it was just quick enough to call it instant. She had come in late. Very late with a chest that heaved and tried to keep her rapidly beating heart in her body. Sweat made the front pieces of her hair stick to her face, flushed from the way she had run down the hall to make it to class. Of course, in that moment Miguel found her less than ideal, but he knows now that even in that stuffy school uniform the academy mandated every student to wear, she was the most beautiful goddamn thing that walked the entire earth. And when she spoke to give her name for attendance, a voice and name that will haunt Miguel until he takes his last breath, he knew their lives would be forever intertwined. 
That thought was concrete the second you had walked down the same row of desks as him, stopping at the desk directly in front of him. The smell of sweetness and a bit of sweat, a smell that only comes to him in the early mornings when he isn’t really awake or asleep, instantly overpowered any other smell in the room. If he skips ahead, he can remember nearly every instance in which he leaned his stomach against the hard edge of the desk to get a stronger smell, everytime he held up a piece of your hair to his face, everytime he snuck out of your bedroom window smelling like you after spending the night making love. But, Miguel is a man who follows a strict timeline, who revels in the chronological order of things. 
Instead, he focuses on the first time he had the chance to talk to you. Despite you being only a desk away, it took a few months to hold an actual conversation that was more than, “Do you have an extra pencil?” or “Did you write down the last bullet of that slide?” Despite the lack of communication, the younger Miguel had developed a slight crush on you. He had seen you in the halls between classes and he focused more on you than on the board in class. In all honesty, the delay in conversation was purely your fault. You were an energetic girl, not popular but well known. Someone was always talking to you at your desk in the beginning and end of class. Always laughing with you about something stupid that happened early that day, always asking for help for an upcoming test or assignment, always taking up your time. He could never be mad about it, though. Even if it meant he had lost an extra few months with you. It was okay because even if those months weren’t with you, they were of you. Months filled with the sound of your voice, the addicting sound of your laugh, the glimpses of your smile and shiny eyes. Moments that fill his head when he sleeps at night and when he gets lost in a daydream. 
You had turned to him, asking him about some party one of his friends at the time was planning because he had turned 18. They’re simple, small questions: “What was the address again?”, “Anyone is invited, right?”, “What’s the dress code? Is there a theme?”, “Are you going?”. He had to bite his tongue to stop from scaring you off with manic answers. Yes, anyone is invited but don’t bring some random guy with you. Bring me with you instead. The dress code doesn’t matter because you’ll look stunning in anything you wear. I only want to go if you go. 
“You… only want to go if I go?” You had asked. Your voice was decorated with a confused giggle and your ears had glowed pink. 
Miguel blinked up at you with his own confusion. He had yet to realize his last words had bubbled out of his chest until you were giggling and eyeing him shyly. He was quick to cover his face as it grew warm, and he let out a groan while cursing himself. You had laughed harder then, eyes shining with a build-up of tears as you clutched your stomach. Miguel had spread his fingers slightly so he could peak through them. You were a sight to behold with that enchanting laughter and infatuating smile. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling against his palms. When you had finally reduced your amusement to a toothy smile, you had gently pried Miguel’s hands off his face just enough to see him. 
He was sure he looked stupid, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide over the fact you were touching him. Your hands were warm and small against his and he swore his heart was trying to rip open his chest so it could run to you. He almost went dizzy when your thumb stroked his hands in a comforting manner in hopes of easing his embarrassment. He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. Would you have minded? God he really hoped you wouldn’t.
“Miguel?” You sang, a teasing smile on your face as you looked at him, “Are you there?”
Say it again. Say my name again, please. You’re the only person ever allowed to say it ever again. God, he was losing his mind. He still is losing it over you. Every goddamn day. Miguel doesn’t think he’ll ever get it back. You took it from him. His mind, his body, his soul. You took everything from him. It’s yours. It’s yours, it’s yours, it’s yours.
Please, give it back to me.
When he had finally responded to you, your smile had shone brighter and you asked him a question that still leaves his mind dumbstruck when he thinks back on it: What time do you want to pick me up? He remembers the way his breath flew out of his lungs, how his heart had paused and then started running again. Remembers the way your throat bobbed slightly, probably because you had regretted asking the question or maybe, he hopes this is why because he never thought to ask you, maybe because you were nervous too. Just maybe you had wanted to talk to him before this life altering moment. Maybe, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were tied to this fool of a boy too. 
He had stuttered out a pathetic ‘what?’ and you had rolled your eyes playfully in response. You ditched repeating the question and had instead given him a time and your address before getting up as the bell rang. While you walked out the door with a small wave and big smile, Miguel sat there in an astonished daze blinking at the board. Time seemed to stop as everyone else around him started walking past him to their next classes. It wasn’t until his friend walked past, jolting him with a slap on the back and a whispered, ‘good work, dude’ before walking out the door that he came back to his senses. It was only then that the conversation finally registered in Miguel’s dazzled brain. He leaned forward and hid his face in his hands again as he closed his eyes and his mouth formed a large smile. 
He had a date. He had a date with you.
His shoulders shook with a silent, delirious laugh.
☆*:..。. .。.:*☆☆*:..。. .。.:*☆☆*:..。. .。.:*☆☆*:..。. .。.:*☆☆*:..。. .。.:*☆
Miguel knew he was in love. Or, he knew he was going to be in love. It’s complicated to describe, that nagging feeling that wasn’t exactly scary but wasn’t completely comforting either. It’s even weirder feeling it. Having your mind constantly crying out go home, go home, go home but your body pulls you away from every building and straight towards another body like you’re tethered together. Like he’s tethered to you. Sometimes, when Miguel closes his eyes and really concentrates, he can still feel that sharp tug at the center of his chest that tries to bring him somewhere that he tries to get further and further away from. 
He can’t lie and say it wasn’t the big things that made him think, know, he was in love. Because it was. But it was also the small things. Like when you found out what his favorite color was, yellow despite popular belief, and how you had come into school the next week with your nails done in the exact shade you had made him show you on his phone. Or that time he had seen your phone light up in class and your display had revealed that you were listening to the same song he was mumbling under his breath the day before on repeat. It was the collection of those small details that made his heart beat a bit faster and for his smile to tick up behind his hand.
And it was that first kiss. That damned first kiss that Miguel can still feel ghosting against his lips. That he feels on his bad days like some sort of silent encouragement that he will get through it. Swears those phantom lips are what pulls him out of his night terrors as if to protect him as he pants and cries in those late hours. The same kiss that he wishes he could feel forever and ever and simultaneously burn from memory. Sometimes, he thinks about pulling some poor, unsuspecting stranger off the street and kissing them to see if it would feel the same. When he thinks like that, he instantly goes to the bathroom and dry heaves until his throat hurts. Of course it would never feel the same, what a silly idea. What a betrayal and discourtesy towards you to even entertain the idea. 
The kiss had happened weeks after the party. In between those two moments had been brushed hands, glances in the hallways, and not so subtle flirting whispered during lessons. Each moment had Miguel’s face flushing and heart racing. It left him with a craving for you. So, when you had invited him to study with you in the library, he had eagerly nodded despite knowing he would ace the test without looking over any of his notes. He would be too busy looking at you either way to focus on his chicken scratch. 
You hadn’t gotten much studying done that day either. Instead, Miguel had distracted you with whispered words in your ears that caused you to quietly giggle and smile up at him. He can remember every detail. From the way your cheeks grew to match the pink of your lips, how you had fiddled with the mechanical pencil in your hand, how your eyes had twinkled as you leaned towards him. He remembers how you had grabbed his hand, a soft and gentle touch, asking him to come with you to find a book you needed. Remembers how you had pulled him towards the back shelves filled with encyclopedias with bug-bitten pages. Can still remember the slight dizzy feeling he had when you pulled him around one of the old bookshelves and pressed him into it. Can still feel the hands pressed against his chest to hold him in place as you peaked around the corner in case anyone was coming over. He remembers the notes he chuckled as he asked you what you were doing. Can see the smile you gave him before you pulled him down for the only kiss that will ever matter in his entire life. 
Your lips were soft and tasted like the cherry lip gloss you wore. He had furrowed his brows as his hands came to squeeze your waist while he moved his mouth over yours. He memorized the trail your hands took as they traveled up his chest and tangled in his hair. He can replicate the way his vocal cords shifted as he let out that satisfied groan when you allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth. If he were to look down at his hand right now, he could swear the creases of his palms still have your sticky gloss stuck in them from when he had turned you around to press you against the shelves, but his desperation caused books to fall and his hand went to cover your mouth as you pulled away and started laughing. He had smiled down at you and buried his head in the crook of your neck to muffle his own laughter. He never regretted getting detention for the next few days when the librarian had found the both of you. It just gave him more chances to kiss you when the detention instructor fell asleep. 
It was during one of those detention kisses that he had whispered against your lips to be his girlfriend. You had answered with another kiss and a delighted yes.
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It had been a month or two after the one year anniversary that he finally made love to you. It was sometime in the later months of senior year. Another hot and humid day. But instead of being in a classroom, he had been in your room. Miguel remembers that your sheets had been white with a small flower print, throw pillows and blankets making up for the lack of color. They were soft under the material of his jeans as he held you while you cried. 
On that day, your usually clean room was in shatters. Things ripped from your walls, notebooks and papers shoved off your desk, clothes taken off hangers and thrown on the floor. The only things that had survived had been pictures of the two of you and your bed. He had gotten a call from your frantic mother, begging him to come calm you down. That he was the only one that can get through the fog in your mind. He had rushed over, your mother opening the door for him so he could run up the stairs to your room. When he had thrown open the door, his chest broke in a way that made it almost impossible to breathe. He rubs his chest whenever he thinks back to it, like the heartbreak is still there.  
You had thrown yourself in a corner, sobbing and rocking yourself back and forth in a way to seek comfort. The mess of your room had surrounded you, barricading you from everything else. When the door knocked into the wall, your face had left your arms and tear-beaded lashes blinked up at him. You had cried harder when you had seen him. He had strived towards you, picking you up easily off the ground and away from the chaos on your floor. He cradled you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his hips as you cried tears into his T-shirt. He had whispered soft, caring words into your ear, an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand in your hair. 
You had cried for another hour, hiccuping watery words about a scary future. A life of uncertainties and insecurities. A life where you ended up alone and scared and desperate to get by. A world where dreams don’t exist and your greatest fears consume you. Days where you don’t know how to get out of bed and shut up the nasty voices in your head. Minutes where you’re tempted to listen to them and then the hours that follow where you hate yourself for contemplating it. If Miguel were to go into his closet right now, he can find the same shirt he wore. A single shoulder lingering with black splotches of mascara that never fully washed away. Each splotch represents a worry you had trusted him with. 
He had pressed you closer to him, whispering ‘it’s not your fault’, over and over and over again until his throat ached and your cries had died down to soft trembling. Another hour was spent in silence as he had just held you. His hands playing mindlessly with your hair and your breath tickling his neck. The sun had begun to set and a golden glow had lit up your bed in a yellow color.
“It’s your favorite shade,” You had whispered in a broken voice. It was scratchy and rough. Miguel thought it sounded just as lovely as it always has. It reminds him of a pipe organ, beautiful but sad. 
He had to turn around to see what you were talking about. He turned his head slightly to see your hand outstretched, fingers playing as the light spilled from them. He can’t remember a time where you looked so peaceful. He had watched your hand, before nodding his head in agreement. “Yes, it is.”
He reached his hand out, taking a hold of yours gently and connecting his fingers with yours like a puzzle. He brought his hands back towards the both of you, bringing it up to his lips and kissing your knuckles. He watched your eyes, red and puffy from crying. He held your hand to his mouth for a while, his thumb stroking the skin. When he had finally dropped your hand, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his, just staring into his eyes. Your scent instantly filled his nose. It is the same smell that he has stored in his bedside drawer in a glass bottle. He never sprays it in his room, just holds it to his nose with closed eyes and pretends you’re right next to him again.
“I love you.” The words were sweet and poured warmth onto his skin. He closed his eyes and sat there, letting your words echo in his head until he memorized how each letter and syllable sounded when it left your lips. 
Miguel remembers the strength he used to grab your waist as he connected your lips to his. Remembers that the kiss was different from any other kiss the two of you had shared before this. He still can’t describe why it was different, but he can still feel it in his bones. He remembers pushing his body into yours and you pushing back. Even though his eyes were closed in the moment, he can see everything clearly in his mind, as if he were a phantom watching it. Can see the exact placement of your hands on his shoulders, can see the way your lips parted and the soft noise you made when he had flipped the two of you over and laid you on your back. 
Those soft, soft noises that split his chest open so his heart can absorb them and keep them safe. He remembers every soft pant and plead you had whispered into the air of your room as he stripped you of your clothes, kissing trails down your body. The giggle you had let out when he almost tripped taking off his pants is still trapped between those plaster walls. The soft feeling of your skin under his was like a cloud, your body warmth the sun. He remembers the halo your hair made as the dying sunlight bathed your face and caused your eyes to shine and for your skin to glow. He remembers the light dimming from your face as he slid slowly into you. He had immediately apologized as you whimpered in temporary pain. 
He had slowly moved inside you, taking his time as you held him close to your body. The soft moans of his name traveled through shivers that rode down his spine, the sounds quiet to not alert your parents. His response was the repeated saying of I love you, over and over again. He repeated it, looking down at your face, into your eyes, so you could see the realness and vulnerability of the words. He made sure you felt it as he grabbed onto your skin and buried his head into your neck as he thrusted. He felt the love you had for him in every scratch down his back and tightening of your walls around him. 
He remembers trying to hold on to his pleasure before it exploded right after yours. He had panted as he looked down at you, your breaths mixing together. He had kissed you softly as he pulled his softening member out of you and you smiled against his lips. He had laid with you for a while before getting up, grabbing his discarded shirt and wiping you down before taking you into his arms again and falling asleep. He held you close to his chest, both of you naked under your blankets as the moonlight glowed against the two of you. 
The next morning, he drove you to the closest drug store. The both of you walked to the counter smelling like each other as he paid for a Plan B pill and snacks. It was a story you and him laughed about on the rooftop of your house the night you both graduated from Pym Academy.
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CHAPTER 2- THEN: THE CANON
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