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#and I was like why are we having this conversation
ellecdc · 1 day
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hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?
I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.
Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.
I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them
“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead. 
“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.
“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly. 
“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”
“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.
“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.
“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.
“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.
You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.
“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.
“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.
Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.
You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s. 
But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.
“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly. 
“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.
“I bet it is, Potter.”
Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”
Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”
“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.
“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.
“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book. 
You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance. 
His boyfriend’s, though?
You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.
Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind. 
But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.
“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.
Case in point. 
“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.
“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.” 
You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality. 
“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.
“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.
You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.
“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”
You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.
“Okay baby; consider it done.” 
You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.
Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.
You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.
“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.
He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down. 
“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.
You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns. 
“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 
Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”
“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention. 
“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?” 
“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.
“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard. 
You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.
“Hey L/N!” 
“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.
James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.
“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.
“I…well,”
Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.
“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.
“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.
“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.
Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?
Lies.
“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.
Avery only scoffed in response. 
“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him. 
“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.
You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.
You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.
You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.
“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”
“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin. 
“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.
Already with the pet names!?
“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).
“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend. 
“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”
You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.
Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.
“Lupin! What are you doing!?”
“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.
“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.
“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”
“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.
“Well you weren’t going to.” 
“That was the point!”
“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace. 
The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.
You weren’t sure which option was worse.
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verstappen-cult · 2 days
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SWEET LIKE VANILLA, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. female reader x max verstappen.
SUMMARY — You send Max some ice cream from your brother’s company.
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. i saw a lot of people talking on tw about charles sending max some of LEC ice cream for him to try and i thought. . . why not write that with reader? so here we are. hope you like this silly little thing. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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“Hey,” You say, scrolling through your phone as your brother flops down next to you. “Could you give me a box of the Vanillove ice cream?”
Charles looks at you for a minute without saying anything, until he shrugs and focuses on the TV. “I thought you hated vanilla.”
“Well, yours is pretty good so,” You shrug, turning to look at him with a pout on your lips and puppy eyes. “Would you do that for your favorite sister?”
“You’re my only sister.” He says, rolling his eyes. “And you’re annoying, but you also know I can’t say no to you.”
“Say no to what?” Arthur pops up from behind the kitchen counter. What is he doing? You don’t know.
“To give me a box of ice cream.”
“You say you couldn’t do that!”
“Of course I can, I just didn’t want to do it for you.” Charles laughs, dodging the water bottle your younger brother throws at him. “Are you two going to the masters this Sunday, right?”
“Yes!” Arthur shouts before disappearing into his room.
“Who is going to the masters again?” Leo wakes up from his nap next to you and climbs on your lap, demanding attention.
“Well, I think Enzo and Charlotte. Lando, Arthur.” He says, checking something on his phone before saying, “And Max.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Max Verstappen.
The thing is, ever since you decided to partner with Joris and help with whatever thing he and Charles needed and, of course, his social media, you’ve been traveling with them since Las Vegas last year. Which means that you’re a constant presence on the paddock these days. And, thanks to that, you’ve become very close with some of the drivers, especially with one more than the others.
You weren’t looking for it, it kind of just happened when you bumped into him at a nightclub in Las Vegas after your own brother ditched you to make out with some random guy in the bathrooms. Max was kind enough to keep you company and then, when your brother stumbled out of the bathroom too drunk to remember his own name, he drove you both back to your hotel. He even made sure you were in your room before saying goodbye and going to his own hotel.
From then on you couldn’t stop bumping into him literally everywhere, so, it was only natural that you’d start making conversation, then following each other on Instagram was just as natural as moving the conversation to text messages (it was easier).
Your friendship has developed so much that you’ve been running together around Monaco lately, after you bumped into him at seven in the morning, surprised to see him running the same path as you.
And if you had a crush on the Red Bull driver before you started to be friendly with each other, well, nobody needs to know that — especially not your brothers or you’ll never hear the end of it. It was hard to act normal around him at first. You were just a girl with a crush, after all. But things have become a lot easier with time to the point of forgetting about the big, fat crush you have on the Dutchman. Well, that is until he does or says something that has you blushing and stuttering and acting like a complete fool in front of him.
Knowing that Max is going to be there this Sunday is equally mortifying, and exciting.
“Oh, okay.” You smile, scratching behind Leo’s ears while your brother has his eyes on you. “I’m coming, by the way.”
Charles hums, “The box is going to be here tomorrow.”
Your belly erupts with butterflies at the thought of what you’re about to do with that box of ice cream.
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It’s Sunday, sunny and everyone is wearing their best clothes while waiting for the match to start.
You’re standing next to Lando, who is talking to Charles about the next race, when you see Max Verstappen coming in.
He’s wearing some blue navy linen pants with a white button down of the same material, a pair of dark sunglasses and his singular smirk.
Max is greeted by your older brother, who is quick to engage in conversation about some random thing you can’t hear from where you are standing.
But then he’s excusing himself and walking over to you.
You don’t know if he’s actually looking at you thanks to the sunglasses covering his eyes, but you feel small and shy nonetheless.
“Hey, mate.” Lando claps his shoulder, making space for Max to stand between you and him.
“Hey,” This time you know he’s looking at you because his entire body is turned in your direction.
“Hey, Maxie.” You say, the corners of your mouth curling up. “Nice clothes.” You cringe the second the words leave your lips. Nice clothes, really?
Max just chuckles before looking over to your brother. “Hey, Charlie. Thanks for the ice cream.”
Oh. My. God.
Shit.
Fuck.
You had forgotten about that.
Well, no. You hadn’t forgotten about it because, in fact, you've been thinking about the box of LEC ice cream that you sent Max all week.
You didn’t think he was going to bring it up, because you were sure he was going to think that Charles was nice enough to send his friend some of his ice cream. Or even that it was some PR move from his part.
However, he brings it up in front of you. And Lando. And the owner of the ice cream who doesn’t know anything about it. All he knows is that you wanted some vanilla ice cream because you said you liked it.
“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, confused. “It’s not being sold in Monaco yet.”
It’s Max’s turn to look confused. “What?” He takes off his sunglasses. And you’re not at all ready to see his deep blue eyes, so you avoid looking up at him. “You sent me a box of… Vanillove is it called? I didn’t know you knew I only liked vanilla.”
You want to die. You want for the earth to swallow you right now.
“Max,” Charles says at the same time you look at him, eyes pleading not to say anything. “What?” He asks you, eyebrows raised in question.
And then you have two more pairs of eyes on you.
You decide, right at that moment, that you’re not going to talk to Charles ever again. Why does everyone talk about that silent connection between siblings where they know what is going on with just a look? Because you, certainly, don’t have it with Charles.
Lando snorts, hands immediately covering his mouth. He looks at you, amusement on his face.
Oh, that is just great. Lando knows.
And your brother still has no clue, “What happens?” He asks again, this time grabbing your arm softly to make you look at him, but your sandals are more interesting.
“The match is about to start.”
Thank God for Lorenzo. You could kiss him just because he came at the right moment to save you from embarrassing yourself even more without even knowing.
Everybody talks and moves at the same time, making their ways over the seats.
“Hey,” Max touches your shoulder, making you turn around. “Are you okay?” Max touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you pray to all the gods above that he doesn’t notice you shivering because of it.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just the sun. It is a little hot.” You smile, dismissing the topic with a wave of your hand.
“I’ll get you some water,” He drops his hand and you immediately miss his warmth. “save me a seat?”
You feel your heart hammering in your ears as you nod, walking away with his question and the little smile that came with it replaying in your head.
You find your seats behind Arthur and his girlfriend, in the rows next to yours separated by the stairs is Charles and Lando, yapping like their lives depend on it, next to them is Lorenzo and Charlotte.
You’re thinking about what to say to Charles because he is, eventually, going to ask you about what is going on and you know he will not rest until you give him an answer. You are a shitty liar, so you need to practice.
Max calls your name, drawing your attention back to the present.
“You have your head in the clouds today.” He hands you a water bottle and you take a long sip, trying to gain some control over yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Will you tell me what is going on?” Max looks intently at you, a small smile still on his lips.
You sigh. Well, he needs to know, right? You owe him that.
But then, Max is leaning closer and pushing a strand of hair out of your face, resting his hand in the back of your neck and stroking ever so softly.
“You smell,” He says, closing his eyes for a second and inhaling. “sweet like vanilla.”
His words send a thrill down your spine, words stuck in your throat. Max expression softens, mixed with something you can’t describe.
He rubs his thumb gently over the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You sent the ice cream, didn’t you?”
You take a sharp intake of breath.
The closeness and the warmth emanating from his body along with his touch are making your brain go fuzzy at the edges.
“Y/N?” He smiles at you when you make eye contact, his blue eyes deep as the ocean. “It was you?”
You nod, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Yes.” You breathe, embarrassed and shy and feeling like an idiot.
“I knew it.” He says, chucking. You tilt your head to the side in a silent question. “I told you about my favorite ice cream flavor just a few weeks ago. And suddenly I have a box full of vanilla ice cream from LEC?” Max pulls his hand away, but is still close to you. “I mean, Charles and I are friends but we’re not that close.”
“Oh, God.” You hide your face behind your hands. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”
“Why didn’t you?”
You look at him from between your fingers. “I don’t know.”
Max sighs, lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Now you have to come to my apartment and help me with them. It’s a lot for one person.” He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but you see the blush quickly spreading over his cheeks.
“I would love to.”
Max flops his head on your shoulder and gazes up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “It is a date.”
Max definitely doesn’t need to know that you hate vanilla ice cream.
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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 19 hours
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I don't think Buddy asks Helio any questions.
Kristen asked 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' because she believed in all the good things she was taught, but noticed the strange disconnect between the world as it was and the world as it was taught to her. So she thought, surely, if I can't come up with the answer, Helio will have it. And she hates him for dodging her question.
Buddy is far more deluded than Kristen ever was. And he is far, far angrier inside as a result, even if he deliberately conceals this fact from himself to protect himself from the inevitable mental breakdown this would cause. Buddy is not as altruistic and giving and caring as Kristen is. He wouldn't question why he was betrayed or dig into a question like 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' Those aren't the answers he needs, because of course he'd be betrayed by someone outside the church, that makes perfect sense. Of course bad things happen to good people, we simply live in a fallen world.
Or, well. He used to live in a fallen world. Now he's dead here. In Helio's divine domain.
I think Buddy, as he wanders through fields of corn to the big farmhouse where Helio is chilling out, privately thinks about the fact that Kristen Applebees' horrified expression was the last thing he ever saw before a sharp pain in his throat. I think Buddy assumes Helio knows he's thinking this and apologizes for bringing thoughts like that into paradise. I think he thanks Helio for recognizing his devotion and bringing him here once he died and dutifully deceives himself about his own rising emotions at contending with the fact that he's dead now.
After all, he was raised to die. He was raised to want to die.
To want to be here with his god whenever it was he called Buddy to him. So he doesn't feel upset, no, of course not. He's just a little surprised at how sudden it was. (How completely random. How unceremonious and unfair.) He's a little bit worried how his grandparents would react to the news is all. (He cracks a joke that maybe he'll see them here shortly after they do get the news. He doesn't laugh at it.) He had his own plans for how he'd spread the good word in life, but of course, Helio had other plans. (Nothing Buddy ever wanted really mattered. He knew that, he knew the will of Helio was the real thing that mattered, and everything else was just a small list of preapproved extracurriculars in the syllabus of his life.)
He can't be upset about this.
He shouldn't be upset about this.
This is his reward.
This place and these people and this god are his reward for a life of service and devotion and walking in the light.
It's not his place to be upset about his own reward. Kristen got upset when she went to heaven, when she met Helio, and look where that got her.
Look... look where that got her.
He thinks he hates her. For looking at him like that. All the ways she looked at him. Like he was something pitiful and contemptible. Someone she needed to threaten away from her little brother. Someone she has to double and triple check if he's going to revive her when he's under magical oath to do just that or lose his connection to a divinity she threw away after being chosen.
And then. In that last moment, she looked at him and he saw grief and horror and caring. Like his death was awful and unfair and tragic.
And he thinks maybe he hates her for that. For challenging him every conversation they had and looking at him like she knew something he didn't. Like she was above him. Like killing your own god twice in life is a preferable fate to living for the promise of eternal sunlight and cornbread in death. A promise which was kept to him.
Kristen was promised to Helio, too.
And he can't unsee her face. He can't move along and focus on what truly matters (Helio, the church, spreading the word, doling out divine punishment when needed) because he's reached the end. There is nothing left. Only this bright sunny cornfield and a god who... is nice. And who cares about him, personally. He got Buddy's name wrong the first and only time they held audience.
He thinks he hates Kristen, and he hates that that hatred isn't immediately squashed out of his soul just by being here. In paradise. Where he belongs. Where every follower of Helio belongs. Where he never has to have anyone look at him the way Kristen did ever again.
I don't think Buddy Dawn asks Helio any questions. Because how do you ask the god you devoted every waking minute of your life to, 'Why do I hate it here? Why does this feel like hell?'
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prettyg1irlstears · 3 days
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i js saw ur pillow princess reader x rafe blurb n its amazing !!
but how would rafe x gf!reader be when rafes friends have been bringing up about how it feels good when ‘the girl takes charge’ but she gets upset n self conscious cs she literally cant, shes js a pillow princess at heart !! she wld constantly ask rafe if shes good enough in bed, if its fine she cant ride him like his friends have been showing off :(((
first of all thank you!!<33 second of all i’m so sorry if i’m answering late, but i hope you’ll like it<3
softbf!rafe x sub!reader
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you’re in the large living room of tannyhill, a pretty sundress on while sitting of your boyfriend’s lap, listening to the conversation between him and his mates.
you were telling rafe that you’ll come tomorrow, that it’s fine if he wants to have a ‘all bro evening’, but rafe insisted on you staying, so you did, because you’re his good girl.
so here you are, playing with rafe’s fingers as the boys don’t bother to acknowledge or respect your presence and talk about their girls.
“bro, my girl’s wildin’ when she takes charge,” kelce boasted, smirking as he took a swing of his beer. “doin’ all the work, feels so good.”
your chest tugs anxiously, slightly squeezing rafe’s fingers as you listen.
“yea i feel ya, man,” topper adds, grinning as he high-fives kelce. “wish you could see the way sarah moves on me ‘cause like goddamn..”
you feel yourself getting uncomfortable, partly because they’re talking about their girlfriends like they were a piece of meat, but mostly because you know you’ll forever be a pillow princess.
“yo, top,” rafe feels jow uncomfortable you are, stroking your silky hair lovingly, thinking it’s just because the conversation’s too much for you. “it’s my sister, man, don’t be gross,”
“sorry bro, not my fault she’s freaky,” topper sneers, kelce chuckling along with him.
you withdrawn a little bit, nuzzling into rafe’s chest as your mind runs a marathon. you were never able to take charge, especially in bed. you and rafe tried it a few times, but you always get all shy and embarrassed, just simply not finding it in yourself to be dominant. but now, after you heard the boys’ conversation, you feel even worse than ever.
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“you okay, baby?” rafe asks you softly. the boys have already left, you’re now helping rafe clean the beer cans and pizza boxes. he has noticed something’s off — he always does.
“mm good ray, just tired.” you fake a yawn and give him a small smile.
that seems to make rafe calmer, maybe he just doesn’t want to press you. he comes over to you, placing his hands on your waist. “can we still do sum’ or are you like really tired?”
you chuckle and look up at him. “no we can still do something.” because even though you still feel bad, you can still feel a little wet spot making itself in your panties just from that one simple sentence.
rafe smiles and kisses you, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your butt. “alright let’s get to bed, hm?”
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you thought it would make your mind go elsewhere, like always, but even when you’re a moaning mess under the muscular body of your boyfriend, you’re still thinking about it.
“what’s the matter, bunny?” rafe grunts into your neck as he kisses it, giving you long and deep thrusts.
“n-no, no!” you let out in a whimper, squeezing his shoulders. “please don’t stop.”
rafe smirks, slowing his pace even more as he bites on a soft spot of your neck. “then what is it?”
you whimper at that, but you can’t keep your worries inside anymore. “am i good enough for you?” as soon as these words leave your mouth, rafe stops, stilling inside of you, making you let out a small whimper of disapproval.
“baby.. baby look at me, will ya?” he gently takes your chin in his hand, making you look up into his eyes.
you look, his hand caressing your cheek as you look up at him with those puppy eyes of yours.
“why would you ask that?” he asks, his voice soft as he has no idea where this is coming from. “of course you are, you always were and always will, baby.”
“because i can’t ride you.. can’t make you feel good..” you say quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “mm sorry rafe, i just can’t..”
“hey, hey, look at me, baby..” he makes you look at him again, his hands running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “that’s perfectly fine, bunny. you’re perfect, i swear to god,”
you’re looking into his eyes, nervously playing with his curtain bangs. “are you sure? ‘cause i felt really bad earlier..”
rafe chuckles a little, kissing your forehead. “baby, don’t listen to those two pricks. can’t appreciate their girls like i can apprexiate mine.”
he kisses your lips softly, slowly starting to move inside you again. “i love you being my little pillow princess.” he grunts at the movements, earning a tiny moan from you. “wouldn’t change for anything, baby.”
“you mean it..?” you ask, leaving out tiny whimpers as he moves slowly yet deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“absolutely,” he whispers, kissing your lips while leaving out small moans. “don’t have any idea what you do to me like this.”
“alright..” you feel a shy smile growing on your lips, tugging on his hair as his tip hits that one spot inside you. “r-rafe.. please.. faster..”
“faster, yeah?” rafe smirks, increasing his pace, holding the side of your neck, earning sweet little moans from you that make his cock twitch inside of you.
“don’t need ya to take charge, baby..” he lets out a pretty moan into your ear. “js’ fucking you like this is enough for me to go absolutely crazy.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
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I’ll Look After You
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: just needed a little hurt/comfort with my man bc I’ve been in such an Azriel mood lately. Azriel comes back from a mission all beat up and Reader forces him to lay back and be taken care of.
Word Count: 1.7k
You were well aware that your mate was amazing at his job. The best of the best, especially with the additional benefit of his shadowsinger abilities.
This knowledge, however, did not stop you from anxiously wringing your hands every time you knew he was going off on a dangerous mission, especially when he was going alone.
Especially when he said he would be back by now and he still wasn’t.
Normally, you were quite quiet and reserved, not usually one to pick a fight, especially with your High Lord. Unless, of course, your mate was in danger. Then, all bets were off.
You stormed into Rhysand’s study, where he and Cassian were deep in conversation. Rhys looked at you with resignation, and you knew that he was well aware of why you had come bursting through his door without so much as a knock.
“He’s not back yet,” you choked out.
“I know,” Rhysand said. He was using his High Lord voice, the one that he used to assure everyone that he had everything under control.
“Why isn’t he back yet?” You felt your anger and your panic rising, heard your voice crack.
“I don’t know,” Rhysand said gently. “But--”
“But nothing,” you snapped. “Go get him.”
Rhysand raised his eyebrows, clearly saying without saying, this is how you’re speaking to your High Lord right now?
But he knew you well enough that he didn’t seem truly offended.
Cassian finally spoke up, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You know we can’t do that. Nobody can know where we have him snooping around. The only reason he went alone is because we can’t hide in the shadows.”
You were about to snap at him, too, when you felt a tug through the bond. “He’s here,” you practically shrieked, sprinting out of the room and out to the balcony where you knew he landed as fast as you could.
It was an effort to hold in your gasp as you saw him staggering towards the doorway, one hand clutching his side, his armor bloody, his wings drooping behind him.
You flung open the door, and wrapped your arms around his neck as gently as you could. “Az,” you said, choking on your sob.
Despite his injuries, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “I’m okay, baby,” he rasped.
You had to bite down your comment that, no, he certainly was not. You put an arm around his waist and he slung his free arm over your shoulder. He was still clutching his side as you led him to your shared bedroom.
Rhysand and Cassian were in the hallway as you passed. “Do you need any--” Cassian said.
The glare you shot them both silenced him.
Azriel chuckled, and then groaned, like it pained him. “You weren’t picking a fight with the High Lord and the commander of armies over me, were you?”
“Of course not,” you lied through your teeth.
“Mmhmm. Sure,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with amusement. That, at least, was a good sign.
When you finally reached your room, you led him into your bathroom, helping him sit on the side of the massive tub.
You started running the water, and then stepped back to survey him. “How bad is it, really?” you said, quietly, trying to keep your tears at bay. That wouldn’t do anybody any good right now.
“I’ve had worse,” he grunted.
Raising an eyebrow, you looked pointedly at where his scarred hands were still clutching his side. The fact that he’d been in worse pain before was not very reassuring to you right now. “Do you need the healer?”
“No,” he said, shooting you a soft smile that you were sure he saved only for you. “I just need you.”
You sighed, cursing yourself for the fact that he could still make you blush at a time like this. You crossed over to him and gently tugged on his armor, pulling it off of his chest. He sucked in a breath sharply and your eyes darted to his. “I’m fine.” he groaned. “Just rip it off.”
You absolutely would not be doing that. Taking your time, wincing at every hiss and grunt he made, you eventually got all of his armor off, until he was sitting naked before you, and you were able to survey his injuries.
His side was clearly the worst of it, an open, bleeding wound near his ribs. But it was already starting to heal up a bit. You got out a washcloth and held it under the warm water before lightly dabbing his side, cleaning it as gently and quickly as you could.
Your mate’s eyes watched your every movement. “Are you okay?” he asked, quietly.
“Me?”
Azriel smiled faintly. “I know how you get when I’m out longer than expected.”
You finished cleaning the wound on his side, and took one of his hands in your own, setting his forearm on your lap, starting to clean a cut there. “How would you know how I get?”
“You think Cassian and Rhys don’t tell me? And even if they didn’t, I know you well enough, my love.”
“You cannot honestly be worrying about me right now,” was all you could say, looking at him pointedly, gesturing with the bloody rag in your hand. You wouldn’t tell him that you were okay, not when it was a lie.
“Of course I am,” he said quietly. You were focused on his wounds, but you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, stop,” you said, you tried to make it sound light and teasing, but it didn’t come out quite right.
He laughed, the sound deep and booming. “Stop? Worrying about my mate? Absolutely not.”
You sighed, surveying him. Many of the smaller cuts and bruises he had arrived with were already healed, and the bigger ones you had cleaned were starting to, now that they were cleaned, but it still wasn’t as fast as usual. Some of these cuts were deep.
The look on your face must have spelled out all your fears to your mate. He gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your face upward, his eyes so full of love and reassurance as he gazed at you. “I’m okay. I promise.”
Words wouldn’t come, stuck in your throat. He gingerly guided your face to his, his hand still on your chin, tilting your mouth up to meet his. Azriel kissed you slowly and deeply, as if trying to prove to you that he was in fact, feeling okay.
He moaned into your mouth, hands roaming down your body. You broke the kiss, narrowing your eyes at him.
“What?” he smirked. “I told you, I’m fine.”
You cocked your head to the side, gesturing to the bathtub, which was now full with warm water. “Get in.”
A choked, incredulous laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. You came home bleeding and limping. You need to rest before you do any of that.”
He groaned in frustration, but obeyed, gingerly lowering himself into the tub, his wings stretching out behind him.
When he was settled, he cocked his head to the side. “Does this please you, my love?” His voice was velvet, his eyes sparkling, a side of him you couldn’t have imagined before you knew you were his mate.
Silently, you retrieved another washcloth, lathering it with soap and water, before rounding behind him, cleaning his back in slow, gentle circles.
He tilted his head back slightly, clearly enjoying himself. You smirked, even though he couldn’t see it.
Once you were done washing his back, you tossed the washcloth into the water in front of him with a splash. “Keep cleaning,” you ordered.
“What, you’re not going to help me?” Az teased, reaching for the cloth and running it up and down his arms.
He moaned suddenly as your hands went to his back, massaging his tight, sore muscles. You kept going and going until all the knots were gone, eliciting filthy sounds from Azriel’s mouth.
Azriel sighed contentedly when you were finally done, and you wrapped your arms around his chest from behind him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I was really scared,” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
He held onto your arms, leaning his cheek into yours. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
You buried your face into his neck. “You don't have to be. I’m just -- I’m really glad you’re okay,” you mumbled against his skin.
He tapped your arm, and you stood up so he could get out of the tub. You handed him a towel, and he wrapped it around his waist, eyeing you carefully.
“Come here,” he murmured, taking your hand and leading you into the bedroom. He dropped the towel before sliding into the bed, pulling you along with him. You settled into his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he traced small circles on your shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll always fight my hardest for you. To come back home to you.”
You made a strangled sound, pressing your face into his chest.
Holding you tighter, he said, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Sorry I got bossy,” you mumbled into his skin.
He laughed, kissing the top of your head. “You know I love it when you get a little bossy.”
You lifted your head up finally to smile up at him.
Smiling sweetly, he took your chin in his hand again, bringing your mouth to his in a kiss that started out gentle and loving, but quickly turned heated.
Gripping your back, he smoothly flipped you over in one movement, so he was hovering over you, his naked body pressing into yours.
You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to him, heat flooding through you. “Are you sure you’re up for--”
“I’m sure,” he growled into your skin, kissing sensually down your neck.
He grinned at you, sliding his hands beneath your clothes, ready to pull them over your head. “You’ve made me feel so much better.”
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hoe4sports · 14 hours
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Double trouble
Alexia Putellas x reader
Summary: Your twins needs new cleats and alexia learns about the increase in cost of living.
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Dinner was soon to be ready, just in time to eat before your twin girls had football practice. They were both on the Barcelona u15’s team, and somehow both of them had a talent. “Mamma!” Your eldest daughter yelled from the down stairs laundry room causing you to mentally sight. She was the messier of the twins; she would probably lose her head if it wasn’t stuck to her body. “Si, mi amor” you said as you walked into the laundry room. “Mamma, they don’t fit anymore!” She cried as she threw the cleat towards the corner of the room. “Que? The new one? The pair you got a few months ago, si?” You said as you touched her back to comfort her. “Si, mamma..” she said as she frowned. The girls were definitely in a growth spurt. “Let’s see, Hermosa” you said as you opened up the laces of the shoes and bent down to help her try it on. “AUCH, my toe! It hurts mamma!” She protested as you got the shoe on. “Wiggle your toes” you commanded as she sighted and wiggled her toes. It was clear as day, she needed new cleats again. “Alright, Mami is gonna be home any minute now. Let’s all eat and then go to pick up some new ones, si? It’s important that they make you feel comfortable. Go grab your sister and help me set the table, por favor” you said as you stood up and reached your hand out for her to grab. The blonde got up while leaning on to your hand and skipped upstairs to get her sister. The twins were spitting image of Alexia, expect they had icy blue eyes from the donor. You had originally wanted to have kids in two rounds; one with your egg and one with alexia’s egg. However, a pair of twins ended the plan quickly as they were more than enough for the two of you.
Just as you got to the kitchen, Alexia entered the house. “Hola amor” Alexia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells amazing” she said as she hugged you from behind kissing your neck. “Spinach pasta” you said as you leaned into her smiling. You loved your little family, it was everything you had ever dreamed of. The twins bounced down the stairs together and walked into the kitchen. “Mami!” Elena yelled as she hugged alexia. The twins and alexia started setting the table, and you put the pasta in a serving bowl. Alexia grabbed sparkling water and you all sat down at the kitchen table in your designated chairs. “How was school, girls?” Alexia said as she slurped in a spaghetti. “It was bien! I sat with Andrea in class, she’s so nice. Maybe she can sleep over sometime? I also got my test back, I got a B, but I studied really hard” Camila rambled as you all kept on eating. Camila was the more talkative of the girls, often leading the conversation. After a quick chat about her new friend and her good grades, the other twin spoke up. “Mamma, do we have Bandaids? Or tape?” She said as she shoved her pasta around on her plate. “Si, why? Are you hurt?” You asked as you got a worried grin. “No! No, I’m not hurt. My cleats are just tight and it’s tugging in my heel.” She said as she looked up carefully. Alexia’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Already?? Didn’t you ge-“ you smacked her arm. If looks could kill, she would be a dead woman. “Honey, it’s normal. You are growing everyday besides, we are already going to stop by the sports store to grab your sister a new pair so why not see if you find something you like too?” You said as you took a sip of water. Her eyes lit up as she smiled and nodded rapidly. Dinner went on, and you were soon on your way to the store.
“Alright preciousas, here we are” alexia said as she pulled your Lexus suv up in the parking lot of the sports store. The girls quickly hopped out and practically sprinted towards the store in their workout gear. You grabbed alexia’s hand as you walked in and was met by a mountain of cleats. “Oh my” you mumbled as your eyes widened. Having two girls in football wasn’t cheap, especially not when they were starting to work towards playing professionally while both being on the national team. It meant twice the travel expenses,, kits, jerseys, clothes and a shit ton of sports tape. “Mami! I like the pink ones” Camila squealed as she grabbed Alexia’s arm and pulled her towards a bright pair of Nike. Elena was more hesitant and grabbed your hand as you walked around. “What color do you like? Is there a specific brand you want?” You asked softly as her eyes scanned the wall. “I like pink” she said as she looked over at her sister that was busy trying on cleats. “The same as that your sister is trying on, si?” You asked as you walked towards her and alexia. Elena nodded and held close to you. After a few trials and errors both girls had found a pair of bright pink Nike; the same pair to be fair. It wasn’t really a problem, you just needed to mark the inside of the shoe. Not that it would be a problem as Elena was more of a left striker while Camila was a right striker. At the register, a young woman scanned the boxes and tapped the register. The girls each grabbed the box and immediately disposed the boxes in the trash as they went to the bench in the doorway to put their new cleats on. “And that will be, 559.99 euros m’am” the woman spoke as Alexia was pulling out her wallet. “!?” Alexia said in disbelief. “559.99” the woman repeated as she smiled. “Cash or card?” Alexia stood dumbfounded and looked at the register. “Ai, card” she said as she rubbed her neck. I giggled behind her as this was usually something I would take care of in terms of shopping and her being happy to pay down the credit card every month.
As we walked out the store, the rain has started pouring so Alexia unlocked the car as the girls sprinted towards it t avoid getting soaked. We drove the 5 mins to the arena and said our goodbye’s to the girls before entering the designated room for parents to watch. Alexia grabbed us both coffees on the way into the room, and sat down beside me to watch the girls. Me and one of the other mothers were talking about how crazy the cost of living had become and how groceries had become a huge expense. “Have you even seen the price of eggs! It’s insane, and my daughter eats like a horse.” the woman next to me exclaimed. “Think eggs are expensive? Try having one egg fertilised and it splitting into two.” I said as the whole room giggled while Alexia chocked on her coffee dramatically. “It was your egg Putellas, so you are to blame” I whispered as I winked.
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slushycoookie · 3 days
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My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.3
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Content: Mentions of infertility, slight angst, Miguel shows off his geneticist side, Rough sex, Minors DNI!!
Summary: After months of Miguel having the symbiote, it's not working like you thought it would.
A/N: It took me eons to write this part but I'm back! We only have a few more parts of this story before I move on to something else. Enjoy!
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You never thought you’d be sitting at the table with an alien. Although, a few years ago, you didn’t think you’d be married to a superhero. Now look at you. Eyeing the symbiote’s head across the table, drinking hot chocolate. You didn’t want to leave them out as they had cups of coffee. And you heard they like chocolate.
“Does it even have a name?”
Miguel and his symbiote looked at each other, “We aren’t really on a first-name basis.”
“You mean, you let this thing fuse with you and you don’t know its name?” You held back smacking your forehead. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I am.” Your husband reassured you, “Their name is Ravage. I didn’t name them that, they did.” You watch the alien smile, sharp teeth in clear view.
“Why Ravage?”
Ravage uses a tendril to imitate shrugging, “It sounds cool.”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“How long were you planning on keeping them?”
“Until you get pregnant.” Miguel explained, “I wasn't planning on keeping them forever.”
You folded your arms, “And what were you going to do with them once I got pregnant?” You raised a brow at his delayed response. The symbiote wasn’t saying anything either, waiting for Miguel to answer.
“Find a new host was a general idea. But you don’t need to worry about that.” You wanted to ask more questions but he held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, “Let’s keep trying.”
You squeezed his hand back, your lips forming into a smile. You absolutely wanted to keep trying but thought it was good to set some ground rules. As much as you enjoyed having sex with him every day, you still had lives. You agreed to indulge in the baby-making process around ovulation periods to give the highest possible chance of conception. If either of you were in a particular mood, it was okay too.
After having the conversation, sex with the symbiote was stress-free. You took the enlarged cock with ease, got filled with his seed, and relaxed right after. It was nice at first. But the results weren’t there.
No clear signs of pregnancy after a few months of Miguel obtaining Ravage. You thought you weren't having normal symptoms outside of the usual fatigue and aching joints. So you bought a pregnancy test. Only to be disappointed as the single line appeared in your vision. Pregnancy tests weren’t always accurate so you asked Lyla to conduct a scan on you.
Only for you to come up short.
Before Miguel’s newfound symbiote friend, you were trying to have a baby for eight months. You all did research. You knew it could take a while for conception to take place. Yet, it’s been almost a year, and no progress.
Hopelessness clouded over your mind. Thoughts began to settle in, accusing yourself of the reason why you couldn’t get pregnant. It was all your fault. Miguel said it would be difficult, not impossible. But that’s what it felt like. Impossible.
The thoughts wouldn’t go away. Not as Miguel’s lips peppered your neck, hands fondling your soft thighs. Ready to go for a round in their bedroom after a long day at work. In any other situation, you would’ve felt good. But all you could focus on was being a failure.
“I missed you today…” Miguel’s low tone resonated in your ears. A gentle squeeze on your breast as he continued to your shoulder, tugging on the collar of your shirt for more access to your skin. “Did you miss me?”
You hummed in response, raising your arms for him to remove your shirt. Your stomach twisted at his loving gaze on your naked top half. You knew he loved you. Yet, you were torturing him by not being able to provide what he wanted.
“You okay?”
You blinked, realizing you weren't reciprocating. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You kissed him, distracting yourself with the unnecessary thoughts. Not wanting to succumb to them as you were laid flat on your back. Hands moving from under his shirt to lift it over his head. You focused on his lips moving down your body. Open-mouth kisses covering your upper half.
“Can't wait until these are full of milk…” Miguel said, running his tongue over the swell of your breasts. “Getting ready for our baby…”
You shuddered as his tongue ran over your nipple, sucking on your breast while fondling the other.
All you thought of was you were trying for nothing. This will be another session that will lead you to not getting pregnant. Another disappointing endeavor. Because of you. All because of you.
“Nena?” He called, causing you to perk up. You were doing it again. Not reacting.
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
You blinked, “Oh, I'm sorry. What did you say?”
Miguel hovered above you, eyes searching your face. “Nothing. Are you sure you're okay? Did something happen at work?”
“No, no I'm fine.” You cradled his face in his hands, giving him another kiss. “Really.”
He sighed, leaning back and pulling her towards him. You were held in his arms, sheltering you from the outside world. “You're not fine. You're thinking. And with your face, I know it's not good.”
Curse your husband for knowing you so well.
“It's nothing you need to worry about.” You buried your face in his hairy chest. Hearing him suck his teeth.
“I always worry about you when something’s wrong.” The hold on you tightened in reassurance. “Now tell me.”
You struggled, fighting back the tears. “This isn't working. None of this.”
“What? Baby, we did know this was going to take a while.”
“I know, but-” Your breath stuttered, cheeks getting wet, “I'm letting you down. I just can't seem to get pregnant.”
Miguel shook his head, pulling you away to assess the damage. He wiped away your tears, using his shirt to remove the incoming snot. “Don't say that. If anything, it's my fault. My sperm isn't doing a good job. With or without the symbiote.”
“You're not the one with an infertile diagnosis…” You harshly laughed, blinking more tears away.
He helped you put on your shirt. “I don't like when you're upset. You know that, right?” You nodded. “We have to keep trying. And if it doesn't work, then we have other options. Like adoption.”
You watched your husband lay beside you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Your head on his chest, his lips kissing your hair. He was right, there were other options. But you couldn't be comfortable with not trying anything you could. Before giving up.
“You could use me.”
Ravage's head hovered above your body in bed. Your eyes darted to Miguel’s sleeping form, unsure if you should wake him. Wait, what did they say? “I could…use you?”
“Yes.” Their smile may appear sadistic if it was anyone else. You kind of saw them as being genuine, “We can fix you. Cure you.”
“Can you? I didn't know symbiotes could do that.”
“Your husband failed to spare the details.” They went closer, you getting to see his intense eyes. “We make everything better. From physical to genetic…” Goosebumps formed on your skin as he emphasized the last word. There had to be a catch.
“If you knew this, why didn't you latch on to me and do it already? Like that time at the lab?”
Ravage huffed with frustration, “We need someone willing. You wanted us to that time. We could do it by force but then…” He trailed off, hoping you would get the idea. You knew if that happened Miguel would be on the alien in a heartbeat. If you were to consider it, he'd have to know. It is your symbiote now too. It wouldn't hurt to share.
“No, absolutely not.”
Miguel declined when you brought it up during dinner the next day. You had to sit with the idea yourself before bringing it up to him. Understand the pros and cons of letting a foreign entity connect with you. You weren't a spider-person either. No superpowers or anything to help you resist. You'd be going in completely vulnerable.
Of course, he wouldn't like it.
“Why?” You asked, “It could fix what I have going on with me.”
“It's only temporary.” Miguel warned, “Once you part with it, it's only a matter of time before what you have comes back. Maybe even worse than before.”
“Okay, but once I get pregnant, it won't matter anymore.”
His brows furrowed, “This is an alien we're talking about here. That's fusing with you. It's dangerous.”
“You didn't ask for my permission when you fused with it! Why should I ask for yours?”
“Because this is different. I'm Spider-Man, you're not.”
You rolled your eyes, “Now, we're having this conversation again?” Miguel huffed, face lowered as he went silent, focusing on his meal. You hated it when he stopped talking in the middle of an important conversation. You usually understood and were patient, but now you couldn't hold your tongue. “If I had powers, would you consider it?”
“No.” He said, his voice strained.
“Then what difference does it make?”
“Because you’re my partner.” Miguel stared at you, hard red eyes into your soul. The grip on his fork was strong enough for him to bend it, holding back his true feelings. “I don't want anything to happen to you. Symbiotes are unpredictable. Dangerous. I'd rather put myself through that and not you.”
“That’s not fair. We’re supposed to be a team.” His face softened as you gazed at him with soft eyes.
“We are.”
Miguel stood, not wanting the rest of his dinner. He mutters about finishing up some work at HQ, making a portal before disappearing behind it. Leaving you to clean up. You weren't diminishing his protests. The idea of dealing with symbiotes was scary, especially with someone who hasn’t used them before. You thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.
But now your husband was angry. He was going to avoid the topic now until you couldn’t take the silence anymore. At least that’s what you thought.
The next morning he came to you, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. A lab coat over his spider suit. To say the words you never thought he’d say.
Let’s do it.
His hair was messy, like his actions as he paced in his lab. You saw multiple images presented by Lyla to support his theory. None of it made sense. You weren't a scientist. But he mentioned how it can be possible as long as you set some ground rules. Control the environment so things won’t get out of hand. And you wouldn’t get hurt.
Your heart squeezed as he rambled, the geneticist side coming out in full force. “You stayed up all night thinking about this, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” Miguel quickly said, his cheeks flushed. “I love you.”
You cradled his face in your palms, thumbs rubbing his cheeks with affection. “I love you too.”
To be cautious, Miguel wanted to test how you reacted to the symbiote. He wanted to monitor you for 24 hours. He first suggested locking you up in the lab so he could be close by but you weren't having that. You decided that staying home and doing your usual tasks would be good enough. Miguel wasn’t a huge fan but he shut up after a few kisses.
You weren't sure how you'd react to the symbiote. If you would feel a drastic difference compared to your normal self. So when Ravage attached to your body, there wasn’t a dramatic shift. No change. Only that they were there. A niggling on the back of your head. It wasn’t annoying, but it would take a while to get used to.
You did everything as normal. Freshened up and grabbed a cup of coffee. Until your mug snapped.
You shrieked at the sudden action, your coffee on the floor, hot droplets on your hand. Miguel was watching you because he called through your watch right away.
“Are you okay?”
You started wiping up your mess, “I’m fine. It just happened so quickly.” Your brows furrowed while sweeping the broken contents. You’d never snapped a mug like that before. Was it because of Ravage?
“It’s the symbiote.” Miguel confirmed, “By enhancing you, it also applies to your physical traits.” Oh right, Ravage did mention that.
You stared at your hands. “Does that mean I have powers?”
“Kind of…Like I said, it’s only temporary.” Right. You shouldn’t get excited. All of this was temporary. “I’d watch your grip.”
You resorted to handling things with your fingers, willing yourself to touch them with the lightest of touch. You understood how Miguel felt about his abilities. If you moved your arm wrong, you’d probably break something. Or someone.
“I’m hungry.” Ravage’s voice resonated in your head.
That was another thing you had to get used to. Every time they spoke, their words would rumble through your body. Prickling your skin in an uncomfortable way that was also satisfying. And no one else could hear them besides you.
“You’re always hungry.” You commented while pulling out a bar of dark chocolate. You broke up the bar into smaller pieces, feeding it to them. “How many times did Miguel have to feed you?”
“Many times.” They said, chomping on another piece. “We don’t just need chocolate to feed.”
You purse your lips, “I’m not feeding you brains.” You gave them a look as they scowled, angrily eating his last piece of chocolate.
“We’re not talking about that. Sex should suffice.”
You perked up, “What?”
“You heard us. Intercourse staves us for a while.”
“Sex is nourishing for you?”
“We didn’t say that. We just like it.”
That explains why Miguel kept wanting to have sex with you. A lot.
“We can’t though. Knowing Mig, he’d want to wait until 24 hours are up.”
“Sex does involve said participants to be next to each other, right?” Their eyes raised in question, “It shouldn't be a problem.”
“No. Not until 24 hours are up.” That's what you said, but it wasn’t what you were thinking. You'd admit getting impatient. You wanted to see if this crazy plan would work. After months of trying and failing, you were tired of waiting. Why couldn't you make love to your husband now to see what happens?
Thoughts kept running rampant as you couldn't sleep. You wanted him to pull you in close, get on top, and have his way with you. You placed a hand on top of his own that rested on your stomach. Your ass, only covered by shorts, started to rub against his lower half. Miguel wasn’t asleep yet when his hand gripped your shirt, a groan slipping out.
“What are you doing?”
You kept going at that same agonizing pace. “Thinking…”
“About?” He made no moves to have you stop, only having a death grip on your shirt.
“How horny I am right now.”
Miguel’s breath quickened at the faster pace. On instinct, he pulled you closer, the large hand splayed across your belly. But he suddenly had a moment of clarity as he pulled back.
“No, it hasn't been 24 hours yet.”
You held back a smirk at how you could feel his cock getting hard against your bottom. “You can still watch me while you fuck me.”
You maneuvered to get back in your original position but he stopped you. “Sorry, I really don't want any surprises.” He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning over to try and sleep, which may take a while due to his current state.
That's fine, you could wait.
You made arousing your husband your mission. Showering with him, making sure his entire body was clean before work by running the washcloth over his body. Making out with him with the towels loosely hanging from your bodies. You felt Miguel’s muscles tense from every seductive touch. His eyes were hard on you as he knew what you were doing but didn't press further.
You stole another kiss before he went to work, tongue sliding across his own with fervor. When you parted, he took a long, deep breath.
“Me vas a matar (You’re gonna kill me)…” He muttered.
“I love you too.” You waved him goodbye when he disappeared.
Ravage’s pleased hum once again filled your body, “We are enjoying the teasing. But when do we play?”
“Be patient.”
30 minutes until the 24-hour surveillance was up. How convenient it was also around the time you ate lunch with him.
You arrived, displaying a casual demeanor when meeting up with Miguel at his lab. He was rightfully cautious as you walked side by side to the cafeteria. You had sent him a naughty text not too long ago. Everything was okay. Cool and casual. Right until you locked eyes with the broom closet.
With your newfound strength, you opened the door, grabbed your husband, and launched him inside.
The cleaning supplies shook from the force as you closed the door and locked it. Miguel didn’t have time to protest as your lips pressed against his in a rush. Filled with need and wanting. His hands gripped your sides, a groan escaping as he gently pushed you away.
“We have about 24 minutes and 15 seconds until-” You kissed him again and he reciprocated it. He pulled your body close to his, devouring each other in the embrace. But Miguel was such a stickler as he pulled away again. “We should wait-”
“Ravage hasn’t done anything these past 23 hours. If they wanted to, they would’ve.” You pushed him down to the floor, seeing the hunger rising in his eyes. Your stomach fluttered at his gaze, sitting down on his lap. “Now fuck me.”
Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed you again, a tight hold on your hips as he rolled his own against you. It didn’t take long for him to get hard, ready to release what you had started since last night. You were as desperate as him as hands tore through your clothes. You couldn’t be upset, as you sunk down on his length.
The entire act was filthy as Miguel gripped your plump cheeks while he thrusted up into you. A death grip on your flesh so you couldn’t escape. Rough enough to where the entire room started to shake. His head was deep between your breasts, whining about how good you felt. So good that you could feel the slight prick from his talons. They weren’t fully out, thank goodness, but enough to knead your soft flesh.
It didn’t take long for your climax to arrive. Your warm walls clenched against his length, inviting him to fill your insides. His warm seed coated you as his body stilled.
“Good. Very good.”
You heard Ravage as you gave Miguel another kiss. You weren't exhausted, your body sturdy enough to go for many more rounds. You were never like this before. Miguel had enough stamina to go all night if he could. But you were only capable of a few before passing out from exhaustion. Not this time.
Miguel picked you up and went home, completely neglecting his duties. Ravage started to take over, forming a second skin around your body. No one cared as you locked yourselves in the bedroom.
Miguel pressed you against the bed, bottom raised while he pounded into you. The entire room quaked under his rough thrusts as you were pinned against the wall. Bite marks covered your skin as you subdued him, locking hands and riding him until he saw heaven. Droplets of cum dripped out of you, only to be pushed back in by his large fingers.
You didn’t know how long you were going until you saw the clock. Being almost eight in the morning. Your head was hazy from the constant lovemaking. Heavy snores filled the room as you looked over, seeing Miguel sleeping on his stomach while tangled in the bedsheets. The sun peeked through the curtains and it was too much sunlight to your liking so you went up to close them. Your body felt heavy but also oddly satisfied. This must be the perk of having a symbiote.
“That was fun.” Ravage chittered, pleasure once again seeping through your body. “When can we play again?”
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thebearer · 2 days
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Can you imagine reader doing the “do you know a mike wazowski, he said he knows you and his best friend sully from school?” Trend from TikTok On carmen, Richie, fak and uncle jimmy. And they are all stood around thinking where they would know this person from and discussing it for like an hour and then they bring Tina into it 🤣, and then they get annoyed that the person would even think about approaching you and asking you any thing like that 😂🤣.
Also literally obsessed with your writings 💕❤️
committed to the bit, truly, you get sydney to call the phone and you answer it. pretend to have a whole conversation, then come out.
"that was weird."
carmen's head snaps towards you. "what? what was weird?"
"the guy on the phone." you try to keep your face still, knowing your phone is propped in the window. "he called and said he wanted a reservation, i told him we were pretty booked and he could check online, and he said he knew you guys. that he was family."
"family?" carmen's brows crease.
"who's family?" richie comes in, buttoning his suit.
"the guy on the phone."
"what's his name?"
"wazowski?" you furrow your brows. "i think i'm saying it right. wazowski? mike?"
"mike wazowski?" richie repeated, you nodded. he and carmen look at each other.
"i dunno him-"
"-no, is he- fuck." richie pinches the bridge of his nose. "is cicero still here?"
"oh, please, don't tell me there's more." jimmy snides. "thought you two had it under control."
"no, not that." richie rolls his eyes. "who was, uh, neil's cousin? the one that's been married like twelve times?"
"paul?"
"yeah, what's his last name? wazowski?" richie waves his hand.
"wazowski? no." jimmy frowns shaking his head. "wazowski? no, that's uh... who is that?"
"he said he was coming with sullivan." you take a stilling breath to contain your giggles. you know you can't look at sydney or you both will break in laughter. "sully?"
"sully?" richie, jimmy, and carmen question.
"i dunno who any of those people are." carmen huffs.
"yeah you do. is it- is it pete's family?" richie frowns.
"yeah, i think it is. seems like pete's family." jimmy grumbles.
"doesn't he have that weird uncle-"
"-oh shit, yes. at the wedding. god, that guy wouldn't shut up." jimmy groans. "i thought pete was bad."
"don't call him back." carmen looks at you. "if he calls again, just get richie."
"me?" richie scoffs. "why do i have to talk to that guy? i don't wanna talk to that guy. make sugar do it. it's her family."
"yeah but it's your job, jagoff."
they don't realize later, until the video is posted, that it was in fact, a joke.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 days
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@ranshin03
"Fletcher! I've been trying to reach you all morning, dear. Could you do me a favor and-"
"Gate's closed, ain't it?"
"Er.....Yes?"
"Is there a fire?"
"N-no?...."
"Somebody dying?"
"...n"
"Then you don't need me. Have a good day now."
-
If Fletcher wants his alone time with his spouse then that's just what he'll get. He does everything for the town- the least they can so is give him twenty-four hours of peace with the love of his life less they want him to work himself to dead like he nearly did before they came around. Folks around town are so used to Fetch ignoring their words of advice when they beg him to rest for once, they can't fathom how laid back he becomes after darling comes into the picture on days he wants to spend alone with them.
If the gates to his property is shut, Fletcher will not step foot off the farm unless someone is injured - or Darling wants to spend the day in town. Fetch likes to start the day slow with breakfast in bed. If Darling likes cooking he'll wake them up to help. The farmer would be well and happy just lazing the day away cuddled up with his sweetheart, but if they'd like to go out for once he'll surprise them with a picnic or something simple like picking fruits to share back at home.
Bothering Fletcher on his day off is like poking a sleeping bear. He'll appear them if they refuse to leave or Darling insists he sees what they want to get them out of the picture quicker. He'll be a tad nicer in the second scenario, but regardless that person is getting the cold shoulder for weeks. Dead silent soon as they walk by no matter how deep he was into conversation with another party. If they can't respect his time why should he respect them?
The only way they'll gain his forgiveness is if Darling forgives them for him.
-
Fletcher - arms folded over his chest: 's not fair. One day - that's all we asked for. Some people just don't know a thing about respect anymore.
Darling: I know it was pretty rude of them, but you'll forgive them, right? For me?
Fletcher: You can't keep pulling that card on me, Sweetheart....
[Nuzzles his nose to theirs]
Fletcher: You know it works everytime~ ♡
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murdockparker · 1 day
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Of the Same Mind
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: A mutual distaste in a certain author—should he even have the grace to be called that—leads to an unexpected meeting.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol, pregnancy, fluff, time skip
A/N: a cute lil request! made me actually read a little Byron myself to get the gist! and it wasn't that terrible I'm so sorry to disappoint
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Dull. 
Everything was dull. What was supposed to be the social event of the season was shortened due to poor weather—an outdoors event of sorts, it seemed, Benedict really didn’t pay his mother much attention when she explained the whole ordeal. Thus, half of the ton was crammed into Lord Whitehill’s home instead of his luscious grounds, all due to the pouring rain. Most conversation was boring, most of the ladies were whining about the rain, the men whining about their whining wives and daughters. 
At least the drinks were good. 
“…seriously think that fodder is worth your breath?”
Benedict’s ears perked up, focusing on a conversation that was decidedly not about the current weather. A breath of fresh air. 
“I-I did not mean to insult you, miss,” a young gentleman sputtered, his face rosy red. “I only meant to indulge you in poetry of the highest regard—” 
“If that was your intention, you would have chosen from a finer list of poets. Byron?” The lady nearly laughed out loud. “Byron is the bottom of the barrel, as it were, so your intention was ill-placed.”
“Byron is a well-regarded poet—”
“By who? Chamber pots?” 
Benedict nearly spat out his drink. The action alone brought the attention of the arguing couple to him—both sets of eyes trained on the tall Bridgerton at once. “Oh,” he fake coughed, “it seems the drink went down the wrong way, please, forgive me.”
The man—who Benedict now recognized as Lord Whitehill’s son—scoffed. “Bridgerton. You are well versed in the arts, are you not?”
Benedict nodded. “I dabble.”
“Would you please explain to Miss (Y/L/N) that Byron is a novel poet,” Mr. Whitehill asked, “and that she should be flattered I recited poetry for her, regardless of the poet?”
Miss (Y/L/N). So that was the lady’s name. 
“But that would be lying, Whitehill,” Benedict gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “And I am ever a gentleman, raised to never lie, especially to a fine lady such as Miss (Y/L/N).”
She smiled at that. 
“You do not agree?”
“Oh I certainly agree with Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict said quickly, setting his glass down. “Byron is a mockery to the art—meaningless words and jaunty titles, why, I tried to read his latest and it put me right to sleep.”
“I fear I had the same reaction,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, turning to Benedict in earnest. “Right before I decided to throw it to the flames.”
They both laughed.
“Imbeciles, the both of you,” Mr. Whitehill said, pushing past the newly acquainted pair. “Keep insulting me like that and I’ll have my father throw the both of you out into the storm.”
“Mr. Whitehill,” Miss (Y/L/N) said softly, her eyes melting into puddles of apology. “I fear we were not insulting you, but rather your taste in poets. I also fear there is a stark difference in that, for if I were to insult you, I’d make a more fitting jab, more educated in that regard.”
The shorter gentleman stormed off, steam nearly pouring from his ears. Benedict laughed.
“I must say, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict leaned down. “You have quite the sharp tongue.”
“I am known to be rather well spoken,” she beamed, standing a little straighter. “Perhaps it is my taste in literature?”
“For that, I believe we are in agreement,” Benedict said, grabbing a fresh glass from the table beside him. “May I offer the lady a beverage?”
“Only if you decide to share whatever’s in that pocket of yours,” she pointed to his chest. Benedict’s ears went pink. “Do not think I did not see you pour an added flavoring into the lemonade—it seems impolite that you would neglect to share.”
“It would be impolite,” Benedict said, carefully pulling his flask out of his coat. “I am surprised you saw that, though, given the crowded room.”
“You are a tall man, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said, taking the glass from his hand. Benedict poured a healthy amount of clear liquor into her cup before adding the rest to his own. “I would have found it hard to ignore you.”
“Your first season? I presume?”
“Technically,” she said, looking up into his blue eyes. “My family, we just moved to Mayfair. My father came into some money and relocated us here this year, my brother is set to study at Eton in the fall.”
“And you?”
“I am now expected to marry a rich and eligible bachelor,” she laughed into her glass. “Which I really have no problem doing, save for the fact that gentleman is nothing like Mr. Whitehill.”
“Mr. Whitehill is rather rich,” Benedict smirked. “Would that not placate you?”
“And listen to him dribble about Byron? Perish that thought,” she said. “When I do marry, I expect my husband to be of the same mind, a similar taste in the arts.”
“You know,” Benedict nearly whispered, “that is an admirable thought. But how will you find this man?”
She looked him up and down, quickly and all at once, returning to drink from her glass.
“I suppose I will know when I find him,” she smirked.
Benedict smiled back. “Well, please let me know when you do, I feel rather invested in your prospects.”
“You will be the first to know, I assure you,” Miss (Y/L/N) said, nodding her head. “But, if I may be so bold, if you are not currently preoccupied, would you care to further our discussion on Byron? It is hard to find someone who agrees with such a… contrasting opinion of the poet.”
“Why, Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict finished his glass, offering his arm, “I was afraid you’d never ask.”
The gardens on the property were lovely, so lush and full of life. She made good on her promise to keep them well maintained, only keeping the finest blooms and plants in their care. It was always the perfect place to spend time on days like today, sunny, a gentle breeze. 
They had given the governess a day off, her mother had fallen ill, it was the least the Bridgertons could do for her.
“Mother!” 
The lady looked up from her book, eyes meeting with her eldest daughter. Blue eyes, just like her father.
“Yes, darling?”
“Might I go inside to grab other books? Aunt Eloise recently sent some to Father and I want to read them.”
The lady gave her daughter a trying look. “Do you not think they may be above your comprehension level, my love? They were intended for your father, after all.”
“No need,” a looming voice bellowed. “I have them right here.” 
She didn’t need to look up to know who it belonged to. “Benedict, I thought you were spending time in the studio this afternoon.”
“And miss spending time with my darling wife and children?” Benedict grinned, the crooked way she fell in love with. “That seems foolish on my part.”
“Father!” Their eldest exclaimed, running over to the tallest Bridgerton. “You brought the books?”
“Indeed,” Benedict nodded, handing the parcel off to his daughter. “Aunt Eloise thought we may have better use of these than her and Phillip do.”
Their daughter lit up with excitement—ever the reader, she was. It took a village to keep their library stocked with appropriate books for her age, but she was quickly out-reading her entire family’s collection. “Thank you, Father!”
“Well,” Benedict said modestly, “you must write to your Aunt Eloise and thank her, I had little to do with such a gift.”
“What about me, papa?” 
Their son, only a few years younger than their daughter came bounding up past his escaping sister, clearly having been playing in the mud. “Do I have any gifts from auntie?”
(Y/N) opened her arms. “Not this time, sweetheart, but come here, let mama wipe that dirt off of your nose—” 
“No!” He exclaimed, turning from his mother. “Dirt makes me ruggable—like Uncle Colin!”
“Rugged,” Benedict corrected gently. “And, no, dirt makes you dirty. You need to stop spending so much time with Colin…”
“Once baby brother is here I will,” their son nodded, putting both hands on his hips, looking down at his sitting mother.
“Oh darling,” (Y/N) said, trying to raise to her feet. Benedict quickly offered his hands, pulling her up. “Baby will not be here for a few more months.”
“Then more time with Uncle Colin!”
Benedict and (Y/N) sighed, watching their adventurous son run back to the mud. “We must write Colin, tell him of the monster he has created.”
“Our eldest is such an easygoing flower,” Benedict said, noting how she was carefully skimming through the various books on her lap. “Our son tests our patience.”
“And how do you think this one will be?” (Y/N) asked, placing his hand on her swelling stomach. She only had two or so more months until the delivery, if she had been correct on the conception. The latest Bridgerton wedding seemed to be the culprit, stolen kisses and a romantic rendezvous to the greenhouse away from the party—it was a perfect recipe for baby number three. “Calm and collected? Devilish and adventurous?”
“I pray they are just like their mother,” Benedict rubbed her belly affectionately. “And perhaps a bit more behaved than their brother… I suppose I should also write my mother an apology.”
“Whatever for?”
“I reckon my brothers and I acted much like our son,” Benedict said sheepishly. “Acting like Bridgerton boys, I am afraid.”
“As if that is the only explanation,” she giggled, leaning into his side. “But I am sure your mother would appreciate such a gesture. Perhaps you should send her a bouquet from our garden, too?”
“An excellent idea, my love,” Benedict said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “What a brilliant mind you have.”
“Father, Mother!” Their daughter called out, waving them towards her. “Aunt Eloise sent a book by an author I have never heard of before.”
“Oh?” Benedict quirked his brow, walking with his wife over to her. “And what author may that be?”
“A Lord Byron,” she said, showing the book with a deep brown cover to her parents. Benedict scooped the tome quickly from his daughter’s grasp, holding it close to his chest.
“And you shall never read such filth,” Benedict said seriously.
“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) laughed. “Perhaps we should allow our daughter to expand her mind—come to her own conclusions on the matter? Surely Aunt Eloise meant the gift in kind.”
“Aunt Eloise clearly meant to send it as a cruel prank,” Benedict corrected.
“What is so wrong with that author, Father?”
“A shorter conversation would be what is not wrong with this author,” Benedict said, turning to call his son. The little boy ran over to his father’s side, ever eager. “Take this and bury it, preferably far away from here.” His wife could not stop her laughter, watching their son hurriedly run over to the new rose bushes, making good work at digging a deep enough hole for the book. “You,” Benedict pointed at the girl, “are forbidden to read anything written by that lowly man.”
“Oh Benedict,” (Y/N) admonished, trying hard to stop her laughter, “forbidding her from reading seems silly—”
“Are we not of the same mind on Byron?” Benedict asked. “I rather think that is how we met, is it not, dearest wife?”
She pursed her lips, fighting a smile. “We are.”
“Besides,” Benedict stood a little straighter, “the roses could use a bit more sustenance.”
She could only roll her eyes.
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sunny44 · 1 day
Text
I got you
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x GF!reader
Warnings: autoimmune disease, sadness and maybe more.
Summary: Y/n has an autoimmune disease and struggles to do normal everyday things and gets frustrated at not being able to, but Charles makes a point of reminding her that she is strong and that he will always be there for her.
I want to say right from the start that if anyone has an autoimmune disease or any kind of disease and feels upset or hurt in any way, let me know and I'll delete the story immediately. I wrote it because a few days ago I saw a video of Selena Gomes going through this situation and a guy who was with her said these words to her, I thought it was so beautiful the way he made her feel good and not frustrated about having a disease she didn't choose to have, and so I thought it was a nice idea to do something like this, so that if someone is going through something similar to remember you that you’re strong and brave.
Link of the video
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And again I felt a wave of frustration and embarrassment welling up inside me as I once again failed to open the jar of pickles. It was just a small everyday gesture, but for me, it was yet another painful reminder of my struggle with an autoimmune disease.
“This is so embarrassing,” I murmured, feeling the weight of helplessness.
But before I could sink myself completely into the feeling of failure, Charles intervened, his gentle voice cutting through the tense air around us.
“That’s not embarrassing.” he said, his expression kind as he reached for the jar of pickles. “You got the disease because you can handle it, that’s why they gave it to you.”
I looked at him, surprised by his comforting words. I had never thought of it that way before.
To me, my condition was a source of frustration and sadness, but Charles was offering a new perspective, a view of strength and resilience that I had never considered.
“You’re right.” I murmured, a faint smile forming on my lips as he effortlessly opened the jar.
“You’re strong enough to handle it.” he affirmed, his eyes meeting with mine reassuring intensity.
Charles' words echoed in my mind as I reflected on my journey with the autoimmune disease.
I had faced challenges and obstacles that often seemed insurmountable, but I always found a way to keep moving forward, to fight another day.
I thought about the moments when I felt weak and vulnerable, when the disease left me unable to do the things that I loved. But I also remembered the countless times I found strength, when I refused to let the disease define who I am.
With a sigh, I turned my attention back to Charles, feeling grateful to have him by my side. He was way more than just the love of my life; he was my support, my rock in times of storm.
“Thank you, babe.” I said softly, my voice filled with gratitude.
He smiled at me, his eyes shining with warmth and understanding.
“Whenever you need help, I'll be here for you. You're not alone in this journey, Y/n.”
It was a simple promise, but it meant the world to me. I knew I could count on Charles to be here for me, no matter what.
Together, we continued our afternoon, sharing laughter and deep conversations as we faced the challenges of everyday life. And although my journey with the autoimmune disease was full of ups and downs, I knew that with Charles by my side, I could face anything.
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Bonus scene!
Charlesleclerc instagram stories
“Just a quick reminder that your strong and beautiful, and that I’m here for you always.” Tagged: @yourusername
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elisespage · 3 days
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in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.
+
“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.
a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.
the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.
every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.
“how many times, y/n? no cats.”
he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”
he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”
“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.
it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.
“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”
jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”
“several times a day.”
+
when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.
after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.
jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.
“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.
“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”
now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.
“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”
you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”
the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.
“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.
he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”
“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”
you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”
“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”
fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.
“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”
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ashwhowrites · 21 hours
Note
Can I request an Billy x reader x Eddie fic where either the three of them fight and then make up or Billy made Reader cry and Eddie got mad at him, and he then fixes it? I would love to see more of Mungrove x reader!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it!! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻Mungrove is getting very fun
2 boyfriends but 1 girlfriend
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If there was anything that was a promise when dating Billy Hargrove, it was jealousy. Billy was popular with everyone. The boys idolized him, and the girls crawled at his feet. Billy was a loyal partner, Eddie and Y/N knew that. But Billy never was shy from the attention on him. He loved it. He loved being chased and all the girls swooning at his feet.
It didn't really bother Eddie. Eddie was never bothered by much, he shrugged everything off and moved on. He and Billy barely ever fought about it. But Y/N? She couldn't just shrug it off. It bothered her all the way into her skin and bones. Billy never saw the issue as it wasn't like he cheated. But to Y/N, being involved in flirting felt like cheating.
Saturday night meant date night. It turned out that having to compare three schedules was difficult. Billy always had basketball practice after school, Eddie had his campaign and band practice, and then Fridays were basketball games and singing gigs. But they all vowed that Saturdays would be their day.
It was late May and the weather was getting hot. Billy wanted to take a road trip off to the beach, so they did. The drive didn't feel that long once they pulled into the parking lot.
"We'll go grab a spot, and you unpack the car," Eddie said as he grabbed Y/N's hand. They ran through the hot sand and threw down their towels.
Y/N was basking in the sun as Eddie took dives in the water. She laughed behind her sunglasses as Eddie tried to do tricks for a rating. Usually, Billy would be with Eddie, both boys trying to one-up each other.
"I'M GONNA CHECK ON BILLY, DON'T DROWN," Y/N yelled as she stood up. Eddie gave her a thumbs-up before diving into the water once again. That boy loved to be in the water.
Y/N put on her sandals and began to walk towards the parking lot. She wasn't sure what took Billy so long, but she had a good feeling of why once she caught Billy with his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and his pearly whites on display.
Y/N walked up slowly, hearing Karen Wheeler flirting with her boyfriend. Billy was leaning close to her, making her laugh.
"Um, babe? You need any help with the stuff?" Y/N asked, she didn't want to sound rude or bitchy. She was more nervous and uncomfortable with the tight feeling in her stomach.
"Got it all handled, sweetie," Billy said, popping his gum. He didn't bother to look behind him at her, his eyes on Karen only.
"Eddie is starting his tricks and waiting for his competition." Y/N hinted she hoped he'd care enough to look at her this time.
"I'll be there in a minute," Billy said, his tone a little angry. Y/N gulped, she did not want to make him mad but she wanted time with her boyfriend.
"Will you be done soon? We've been here for thirty minutes and you know Saturday is o-" But Billy cut her off. He whipped around and his icy blue eyes glared at her.
"I said in a minute. I'm in the middle of a conversation, we have the whole godamn day for you to be on my ass." He snapped, and Y/N nodded. She bit her lip as she felt it tremble. Billy turned back to Karen and Y/N began to walk away. She sniffled as she tried to keep her tears back.
"Clingy one I see," Karen mocked, Billy let out a big laugh.
"You've got no idea."
~
Eddie was back on his towel when Y/N made it back, without Billy.
"Hey sweets, where's Billy? Does he need my help?" Eddie asked, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. He squinted as he looked over at Y/N.
"No, he's fine," Y/N said, her voice shaky as she sat on her towel.
Eddie frowned hearing her voice, he was quick to move his towel right next to her. His wet body against hers as he threw his arm over her shoulder.
"What's wrong?" Eddie asked, he saw his reflection in her sunglasses as she turned to look at him.
"He's too busy to join us because of Karen Wheeler." Y/N sighed, but Eddie knew there was more.
"I'm sorry he's being a dick," Eddie said, his lips pressed against her shoulder.
"Do you think I'm...clingy?" Y/N asked, she pushed her sunglasses into her hair as she looked into Eddie's eyes. His frown deepened as he saw her watery eyes.
"Not at all! Why do you ask?"
"Karen made a comment about it, and Billy laughed and agreed. It hurts when he flirts with every girl that breathes. It makes me insecure. Why am I not pretty enough to keep him from looking at other girls? He never looks at other guys." Y/N ranted, salty tears ran down her cheek.
"Oh, darling. I can't make an excuse for his dumb actions. But I promise you, you are enough. You are pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough, and everything more." Eddie said softly, he wiped away her tears.
"I'm going to swim for a bit." Y/N said, she gave Eddie a soft kiss then left to head into the water.
Eddie flicked down his sunglasses and went right after Billy.
Just like Y/N said, Billy was talking to Karen without a care in the world. Eddie walked up to the car and grabbed a water bottle out of the cooler.
He cut in between Karen and Billy. His back to Billy as he glared at Karen through his sunglasses. He handed her the water with a smirk. "Since you are so thirsty, here's water. Now beat it."
Billy chuckled from behind Eddie as Karen walked away.
"My oh my, someone is hot when they are jealous." Billy teased. Eddie turned around and flicked Billy in the forehead.
"I'm not jealous. I'm pissed off at your attitude towards Y/N." Eddie argued.
"I didn't have an attitude. I asked her to give me a minute." Billy defended. He finally grabbed the stuff from the car and began walking towards the beach.
"I don't give a shit if you asked. You ditched us on our date so you could talk with gross Mrs. Wheeler. You know I don't care about flirting because I know who's dick you'll be sucking on. But it's different with Y/N. She gets insecure and you make her upset." Eddie explained, helping his boyfriend carry everything down into the sand.
"Why is her being insecure my fault? We all knew I was popular with the ladies." Billy scoffed.
Eddie waited until Billy dropped everything on the sand before he punched his arm.
"What the hell!" Billy growled as he rubbed the sore spot.
"It's your fault because she doesn't think she's pretty enough to keep your eyes on just her. News flash Hargrove, if you want to soak in all the attention from the "ladies" then don't be in a relationship." Eddie said, another punch at Billy's other arm.
"DAMMIT!" Billy yelled as he felt another bruise forming.
"That's for making her cry. If you don't see what I see in her, then maybe she isn't meant to be yours, just mine." Eddie glared.
"What? You are gonna take her from me?" Billy questioned. He had to admit, the thought made his stomach hurt.
"No, but I'm going to stop trying to make you a good guy."
~
Billy sighed as he walked into the water. His eyes take in the gorgeous girlfriend of his. Her warm skin and the bright color of her bikini. Water dropped down her hair and created droplets that ran down her back.
She didn't turn around and he kept walking closer. Once he reached her he wrapped his arms around her waist.
His mouth was against her ear, as his chin rested on her shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun.
"I talked to Eddie. And I'm really sorry I upset you." Billy said softly, he squeezed her body as the waves brushed against his legs.
"It's whatever, Billy. I'll get over it like I always do." Y/N sighed. She groaned when Billy turned her around, now face to face as she held back her tears.
"No, I mean it this time. I'm done with the games and the flirting. Eddie and I don't see it as a big deal, but it means something to you. It hurts you and makes you question yourself. Which I never want you to do. I've been a dick and not appreciating you the way I should be. I'm incredibly lucky to have you as a girlfriend. " Billy kissed her neck, and she tried not to melt.
"My sexy and gorgeous girlfriend," more kisses, "who puts up with me when she shouldn't have to," more kisses, "loves me when I don't deserve it," more kisses, "and truly the only woman I'll ever love." The final kiss landed on her lips and she happily kissed back. Her arms were thrown over his shoulders as his tongue moved inside her mouth.
"Can you forgive me?" Billy whispered against her lips. His blue eyes were nervous and guilty.
"Yes but I swear you flirt with one more girl and I'm going to have Eddie truly kick your ass."
"He wishes, baby." Billy chuckled before kissing her again. His hands landed on her ass as his tongue entered her mouth once again.
~
"Great. Now I got a hard on." Eddie groaned as he used Billy's towel to cover his swim shorts.
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honeygrahambitch · 2 days
Text
"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."
"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"
"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."
Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.
"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.
"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."
"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.
Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.
"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."
Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.
Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.
He wished Will would allow him to care for him.
That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.
As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.
"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.
Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.
"Thank you." He whispered.
Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.
"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.
"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.
"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."
Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.
Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.
Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.
"We can pass notes."
"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.
"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."
"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.
"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.
"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.
Will nodded.
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tastesousweet · 2 days
Text
⭒ the girl with the tattoo (x) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9
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matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : after three resentful weeks apart, only matt and y/n could find themselves more fond of each other.
warnings : angst, fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread
mickey speaks : THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE SWEET ANGELS HERE’S THE 10TH PART FOR YOU!!! tgwtt is already in double digits 🥹 only like 8 more parts to go
THIS IS PART TEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE!!!
"COME on y/n we'll have so much fun!"
you haven't had a night out in weeks.
following matt's party, you swore off alcohol until your own birthday in mid-september, afraid of the amount you'd allow yourself to consume now that you're feelings are supremely hurt and bitterness coated your tongue.
it was difficult to turn down the first week, despite the smell and taste of any drink making your stomach turn you craved the drunken effect and secretly wanted to run into matt- just to see what he'd have the nerve to say to you. but the mature, wiser part of your brain knows there is nothing good to come from spiteful drinking. so you've declined every weekend.
you know in your heart that your friends only want you to feel good and have fun with them. it's the only reason you've tolerated this current conversation for so long.
"i believe you! but i'm just saying i'll have just as much fun with this bowl of strawberries and my bed," you reach into a cabinet for one of the many off-white glass bowls.
"baby you haven't been out with us in so long, we miss you!" remi beams kicking her legs as she sits atop your counter, fully dressed and decorated for her night out (contrasting the bare face, oversized tee, and panties you wear).
you sigh and look over to the three girls huddled in your kitchen, "no, you guys know 'm not drinking right now," you shake your head and push off of the counter heading towards the fridge in search of your berries.
"i'm just confused on why you're suddenly so strict on drinking? and regardless of the drinking you could have fun without it if you loosen up a bit..." erin replies while resting her body against the wall next to remi's spot.
you roll your eyes while your face is still in your fridge before shutting it back, "i don't understand what's not clicking erin, i don't want to go out at all! i want to stay at home and be away from drunk people and watch something brainless and then i wanna go take a fucking bath. i'm so tired of having to explain and repeat myself. please go, please have a good time, and please- respectfully, mind your business."
you run water over your strawberries and andrea's eyes widen as she turns back towards the counter to pour herself another shot.
"alright, whatever.” erin shakes her head, “dre, remi, i'm gonna go wait outside this is annoying. she can stay bitter," she walks out and whispers, "bitch," under her breath before shutting the door.
it's silent for a second as you begin to harshly cut the stems off of the fruit, remi comes behind you and wraps a caring arm over your shoulder for a hug, "are you okay?"
"yes, i'm fine, you can go have fun..." you turn to face her and offer a strawberry.
"i really do miss you,” you kisses your shoulder and bites into the strawberry, “love you," she reminds you as she grabs her bag and dismisses herself to check with erin. you nod your head and continue to stare blankly as you repeatedly cut.
andrea speaks up after hearing the door fully shut. she breathes heavily as she stares down at her hands on the counter, "cariña ("honey"), you’re not a bitch.”
“i know…” your voice is small.
“i know you do. i also know something’s hurting you badly right now and i selfishly wish you’d fucking tell me so i could help.” she licks her glossed lips, “but as long as you’re being kind to yourself, i can deal with you keeping this to yourself.”
your eyes brim with salty tears and when you let out a broken sniffle she's immediately by your side. "nooo don’t cry, i’m already pre-drunk! you know i will too!" you try to continue preparing your fruit but andrea turns your body to make room for a warm hug. you're quick to tuck your face into her perfumed neck and let out your feelings through cry's.
you had always thought that what andrea (or anyone) didn't know about your sex life with matt wouldn't kill her, but quite frankly it's killing you. you want to tell her everything he’s ever made you feel- for all andrea knows matt was once a silly crush and currently a little less than a friend to you.
but at the same time you just know she would tell you to stop seeing him if she knew everything. she would remind you that at your core you are far too caring and attached to handle recurring casual sex with him in the first place.
"i'm so sorry, drea. i really wanna tell you but i’m not ready." you croak pitifully.
not ready to accept the embarrassment of wanting him to like you this bad.
and for someone as willingly vulnerable as you, you’re especially not ready to hear her scold you a little for somehow hurting your own feelings and putting your friendship with erin on a thin line over some guy.
your words only confuse her brain more, but she can only continue to rub circles into your back and silently pray you didn’t do something illegal or, like, morally cruel.
౨ৎ
matt would love to say he hasn’t thought about you since you bitched out on him the night of his birthday, but he could never just blatantly lie.
he can say he has gone the past few weeks without reaching out to you- which mostly speaks to both of your stubbornness and pride.
in fact, you’re part of his reason for having his own night in tonight- though it’s far less sadistic of a reason than yours. he’s simply grown bored of the repetitive night life he and his friends have.
you were always there for him to tease and secretly fuck around with whenever your friend groups would combine for the night. but as of late he’s left sitting at the bar swigging down beers and scrolling on his phone (sometimes he’d get irrationally irritated at you for not posting on your instagram or snapchat stories, feeling a as if it was a direct punishment to remove him from knowing any details about your life) or until the rest of the group throw the towel in.
on the worst and most irritating of nights he’ll take an uber home by himself. and those were the nights he would get so close to being irrational- showing up to your house and confronting you was oh so enticing. but he’d talk himself out of it and go home to fuck his fist like you’d probably tell him to do.
and on the most horny and pathetic of nights he'd end up in the backseat of his car finger-fucking erin with her tongue in his mouth. it ended at that though, matt's skin started to crawl thinking of when you rode him in the front seat not too long ago. he had pinched his eyes shut and pulled erin's hands away from his zipper, swaying her with some sweet "i just wanted to make you feel good s’all" and a kiss before she left and he awkwardly drove himself home- pondering how little self control he had to be desperate enough to do even get that far.
so, he didn’t even bother to go out tonight. when chris and nick asked him through his closed door, he told them he’ll stay in for some “peace and quiet.” really, he just couldn’t stand to be disappointed by the guaranteed lack of you being there.
he sits in his desk chair, legs spread casually, and sketchbook held against his thigh as he scribbles around to formulate a few rough outlines for upcoming clients. somewhere in the mix he begins to sketch out a familiar cartoon cat, which only irritates him and makes him close the book abruptly, shoving it into his desk’s drawer.
matt rubs his hands over his face a few times and lifts himself from the chair, heading straight for his bedside table. he bites at his lips while digging through the drawer, eventually finding the pretty red hot blunt you rolled and gifted him.
he makes his way out to the patio, not bothering to turn the outdoor lights on; blunt, lighter, and phone in tow. he slouches into one of the many chairs near the glass door and places the blunt between his lips, shuffling as he digs in his back pocket for his lighter.
the spark of the bright flame highlights his focused face for only a few seconds while he pricks the end of the misshapen yet smoothly rolled blunt. he breathes in the smoke immediately, throwing the lighter onto a table nearby. he tilts his backwards to blow out swirls of smoke above him.
matt initially wants to wait to call you until he feels high enough, mostly to give him an excuse for calling in the first place because he knows you’ll be expecting one. but he can't fucking wait, he wants to know what you're doing right now.
matt continues to effortlessly inhale and exhale several hits as he searches his phone for your contact.
his thumb hovers over the dull button that would change a lot for him. calling you means looking like a dumbass, as if he can't handle not knowing you (apparently he can’t but he wouldn’t admit to it). calling you means he’s breaking this implied break up- for complete lack of better terms.
but who’s to say you’ll even answer and give him a chance to do any of that? and suddenly his phone is vibrating in his hand as he raises it to his ear.
it takes four rings for you to answer, though you're completely silent on the other end. he waits and you wait. he truly didn’t think this far ahead. you only give him a few extra seconds to be silent before you hang up all together.
matt kisses his teeth and redials. when you eventually answer again he speaks through the smoke in his lungs, "hi. why'd you hang up?"
"matt, don't call my phone and expect me to speak to you first." your voice has a bite to it that still surprises matt a little. it's so infrequent for you to be harsh or upset (as long as matt has known you, you've been nothing but cheerful and well… sunny) that it's oddly pleasant to see how you handle negative emotions- it reminds him that you’re not always good, something he’d always weirdly envied about you.
he releases more smoke in the air around him, "my bad, sweetheart."
"just tell me why you’re calling. are you drunk or ...?"
"no. i just wanted to know what you're doing."
you sigh heavily, "why does that concern you...?"
his eyes pinch as he stares out into the dark backyard, "why're you bein' so difficult? 'm just trying t-"
"matt. get there, please." you rush, though you secretly are enjoying hearing his voice and the romanticized idea that he must care a little if he’s reaching out again.
“yeah.” he takes a breath, “i don’t know. i’m just, like, here…by myself, and i wanted to remember what you sounded like.”
you smirk to yourself but drop it immediately, “okay…well, this is what i sound like.”
“yes, so soothing, i could fall asleep right here,” you can hear him audibly stretch.
“oh, i’m putting you to sleep?” you tease.
“yeah, i need you to come over and wake me up,” he inhales once more.
you’re silent and he breathes out again, “fuck was that too much- i’m sorry.”
“definitely. i need you to calm down, sir.”
“oh i’m so calm, baby,” he moans out playfully.
“matt, i’ll hang up-”
“woah! let’s not make such rash decisions?!”
“okay then.”
“thank you for answering,” his voice is muffled, “you could’ve blocked me- i talked to you so crazy that night and i do feel bad about, i want you to know.” he pauses and you silently process as he continues to compliment you, “you’re the only woman besides, like, my mother, who is just classy as fuck and way too kind to everyone whether they deserve it or not.”
you could never have expected to hear any words of admiration from matt in regards to you. “oh my god, are you near a couple of trees right now? how’d you get so sappy all of a sudden?”
matt takes a second to register your joke before his entire face crinkles and he shakes his head, giggling, “bad joke. such a bad joke.”
you let yourself laugh a little as well before pulling together, “thank you for apologizing, i honestly didn’t expect that from you.”
“well i don’t hand them out like that so i guess you’re lucky or something.”
“i guess i am…” you smile into your words a little.
“what have you been doing?”
“like the past few weeks or right now?”
“i was talking about right now but you can say both.”
“just was checking! i don’t want to talk to much, i know you’d hate to listen to it.”
“heyyy! really? throwin’ some shit i just told you i didn’t mean right in my face like that?”
“i’m sorry i had to!”
“you were holding on to that one, huh?”
“just a little.”
“okay, tell me everything and i’ll listen.”
“i know i made it seem like i’ve been doing a lot but i’ve honestly just been working a bunch. it’s not as much of a nightmare as it sounds though- working long shifts has helped me fall asleep quicker. i’ve also started cooking a lot more whenever im bored which andrea looooves. and… um, right now i’m taking a bath.”
matt’s eyes widen and he chuckles, “dammit! i knew i should’ve facetimed instead!”
you bite your lip to hold back a laugh yourself, “what are you doing, matt?”
“guess.”
“i mean, i know you’re smoking but you could be in a random bedroom at a party or like, at some other bitch’s house…i don’t know, i’m just guessing!”
“never that,” he laughs- which you can’t decipher as a sarcastic or genuine one -and explains further, “‘m at home, outside with that perfect little blunt you made.”
“oh, for real?”
“uh huh, she’s treating me real good.”
“i’m glad. can you finish telling me how you’ve been?”
“yeah, um-”
“mattttt!” a very drunk nick suddenly yells while sliding open the glass door.
matt literally jumps and is immediately annoyed, you can hear it in his voice despite it being muffled now, “dude, you scared the shit out of me! what do you need?”
“hello to you too, ugh, i forgot you’re all moody right now. what are you even doing it’s all dark and shit?” nick hangs on the door has he peeks outside.
matt gets up to close the door again, “mind your business, nick. move, you’re in the way.”
“hmm, you are so weird.” nick squints his eyes and turns away yelling chris’ name in a blood curdling scream (for absolutely no reason besides the fact that he thought it’d be funny to see chris drunkenly run into the living room).
“hey, you still there?”
“mhm, yes”
“nick and chris just got back from the bar so i’ll have to help them chill out, um, yeah. i wanna hang out again. not even just to fuck if you aren’t cool with that yet, if we can be friends around our friends we can be friends by ourselves.”
friends? you and matt? hm. “that’d be nice, do you wanna just come over like usual?”
“i mean i could but we can do whatever you want, seems like you’ve been home a lot so, you know.” his voice gets more distracted as he speaks
“okay, i’ll let you know. good night.”
“sounds good, sweetheart.”
౨ৎ
MATT - 6:30 PM
Are you done yet?
Y/N - 6:52 PM
yes i’m coming now
-
“i’m sorry again for keeping you so late y/n, you really didn’t have to stay and help me close!” your coworker, angela, beams as she follows you out of the back door with a trash bag.
“don’t worry about it,” you smile to her as you walk with her to the large dumpster on the side of the building.
she throws a bag the size of her torso into the bin with a mumble of ‘ew’ before turning to you, “don’t say that! i know you have that date thing tonight, i don’t want you to be late.”
“i told you it’s not a date! we’re hanging out as friends.”
she rolls her eyes while putting her travel sized hand sanitizer back into her purse, “y/n don’t start with that…it’s totally a date from what you’ve told me.”
you both continue to walk towards the back parking lot,“trust me, he’s made it clear he’s not that kind of guy.”
“then why waste your time?”
right when you go to defend yourself you hear a car door shut, drawing your attention to the man of the hour, who’s locking the doors of his sleek black suv as his jaw works a minty piece of gum.
his black tee exposes his tattoos and his jean shorts are held up with his favorite black belt. you can see his light eyes are squinted due to the sun’s undying brightness from where you stand.
angela turns to you with a full smirk and softly slaps your arm, whispering and giggling, “girl, he’s hot!”
“oh my god!” you have an uncontrollable smile as you look at her, “stop it!” you look over again and this time matt is leaning against his car, ready to catch your eye and send you a wave of his fingers with his eyebrows raised.
you wave back then turn away once more, “‘kay i should probably go but i’ll see you wednesday, right?” you lean in for a hug.
“yes i’ll be here,” she smiles into the embrace as you kiss into the air to the side of her head, “you’ll have to give me all the deets!”
“mhm,” you hum as you both part ways, “bye ang!”
you approach matt without any rush and he takes the time to gaze over your complexion (far more radiant than the last time he’d seen you) and the way your mini jean skirt compliments the blushed red top you’re wearing. “hi sunny,” he grins and reaches a hand out to bring you into a hug, only for you to set the handle of your small purse in it. he kisses his teeth playfully, “it’s still like that, huh?”
“like what?” you condescendingly look up at him.
“alright, girl,” he dismisses, “where are we goin?“
“it’s a surprise for a reason matt!”
“okay… then i’m assuming you’ll drive?”
“not exactly..” you spin on your heel and walk away from him as a hint to follow you.
he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk down the busy sidewalk, he gives a couple of glances down at your phone while also navigating the two of you. “metro?” he reads aloud.
“mhm,” you reply and smile to yourself while adding the tickets to your apple wallet.
“wow, you really planned this shit out.”
“i’ve never half-assed something in my life,” you say as you both stop at a cross walk.
“never? you have a brother, right?” he asks and you nod, “i’m sure he’d be able to come up with something.”
“probably,” you shrug and grab his wrist when the walking sign lights. “we’re gonna make it just in time, the bus comes at 7:10.”
౨ৎ
the seating on the bus is comfortably squished; you sit in the window seat and matt next to you, moving his limbs inward to give room to those walking in the isle.
you reapply a faded shade of red, black cherry to your lips while using your phone camera. matt watches with his lips pursed in awe. “that shade looks nice on you,” he says softly.
you’re already feeling giddy internally and he’s forcing you to blow your unbothered cover at this point, “thank you,” you smile and turn to see him already close to your face, looking at your eyes then lips. you just have to close the space by giving him a small kiss, mumbling, “it looks good on you too, see,” you move your phone so that he can see his lips outlined with the stain of you.
he laughs and pouts his lips while checking himself out in your camera, making the risky move to take a photo of himself, before giving your cheek a kiss.
౨ৎ
“jesus, for forty fucking minutes you better have brought me to an all inclusive resort!” matt complains while dramatically stretching his back.
the sun was now peeking down and the flashing lights of santa monica pier were extra enticing. “stop, we’re gonna have so much fun! look!” you point at the energetic strip with a childish grin.
“alright, let’s go then,” he tilts his head towards the fair.
౨ৎ
“definitely could have gone without that last ride- wayyy too many dips,” matt holds his stomach dramatically.
“i could tell, you were screamin’ like crazy,” you smirk as the two of you stand in the line at one of the many food trucks. two hours into being there and you’ve rode almost all of the rides, it was expected for matt to ask to stop for some sort of food eventually.
“barely.” he rolls his eyes, “what do you want?”
“i’ll have a water and one of those bomb pops,” you tell him.
“that’s not really food, are you gonna be good with that for right now?” he clarifies.
“yes, matt. thank you,” you smile and matt waves you off as he approaches the tall window to order.
“hey, what’s up man? i’ll just have a water, one of those fourth of july a bomb pops, medium fry and a modelo in a can please,” he flashes a smile and pays quickly.
you thank him and the cashier as you take hold of the items you asked for. “can we go walk on the beach?” you ask him.
“yeah, it’ll be dark as shit, but yeah,” he responds lightly and shoves a few fries into his mouth.
౨ৎ
“when i was younger my mom would bring me and my brother to the pier every summer since i was seven maybe?” the waves crash softly in the background as matt lays between your legs, despite the scratchy denim of your skirt. “when i was eleven my brother would want to go off with his friends in high school and my mom wasn’t a fan of the rides, so she would bring me to walk on the beach with her instead.” you recall out loud after matt had asked what made you want to come here today.
“mmm, reminds me of east coast beaches when i was a kid. we’d make a whole day out of it and pack up my mom’s minivan.” you stretch his scalp hypnotically, “just being rowdy and annoying as hell on the ride there and sleeping on the way back. being a kid is, like, the best and we never realize it when we’re there.”
“isn’t it kind of sweet that we don’t? kids don’t even understand the concept of missing childhood or being nostalgic until they’re older. if eight year old me were constantly dwelling on what’s passed i know she’d go insane. i mean, even now, everyone is always chasing previous feelings and never fully in tune with the one present.” you look out at the waves that softly build up and crash repeatedly.
matt licks his lips and opens his eyes, sitting up from your lap, “holy shit, sunny,” he kisses you and pulls away to laugh, “you just made me sound like a dumbass.”
he keeps a hold of your face, “matt you’re not dumb, everyone is nostalgic for something,” you kiss him again to seal your words.
matt pulls away and you stands up and begin to remove your shirt leaving you in a lacy bra, “come on,” you tilt your head and matt immediately stands up to cover you.
“the fuck do you mean, ‘come on’?” he starts to laugh while looking around for anyone around.
you roll your eyes at his protection and unbutton your skirt, “take a dip with me.”
“no?! y/n, that water is freezing...”
you pull down your pants to reveal a small pair of matching lacy panties that matt can barely see in the dark but he just knows would send him over the edge.
“matttt,” you pout and bring his hands to your exposed ass, lifting his chin to capture his lips in your own, “please?” you look up at him.
he pinched his eyes shut, “baby, put your clothes back on…”
“alright be lame,” you take his hands off of you and run into the empty beach with a freeing laugh.
matt stands there, not wanting to yell and draw attention to you both, but also not wanting to freeze to death.
“matt! the water’s not even that cold, come here!” you exclaim, wading in the shallow water.
“no, i’ll just wait here until you’re done cooling off…”
“matt, please! what if i-” you pretend to fall backwards and start to fake a drowning scene that has him undressing to his boxers quickly.
he ignores the rush in his blood from the surprise of the water’s temperature in favor of getting you out of there. he calls your name over and over, the pitch black look of the ocean doing absolutely nothing to help.
he’s pretty freaked out when you come back up and jump on his back yelling, “you saved me! you saved me!” with a cackle.
matt immediately groans and slaps the water, “fuck you, why would you ever do some shit like that?!”
you giggle and he throws you off his back easily, turning around to be face to face with you as you wipe your eyes, “oh my god matt, my mascara’s gonna run!”
“maybe we should think of these things before running into the ocean?”
you stop wiping underneath your eyes to forcefully push him under the water, giggling at the sound of the crash and his “don’t-!” right before.
“no more,” he spits out water and scolds you when he comes back up, inching closer to you and holding you by your hips as you wrap your legs around his waist.
“okay,” you agree and go to kiss his wet face just as he quickly unhooks you and throws you back under.
“matt!” you squeal as you resurface to hear him laughing, “dude, i’m gonna kill you.”
“truce, truce, truce!” he repeats and backs away from you.
“yeah, you better run,” you threaten.
౨ৎ
“your eyelashes are like sooo long when they’re wet,” you compliment as you stare at matt under the moon’s light.
he pulls you closer him to stop his mouth from chattering due to the cold, “i’ll give you my lash routine,” he jokes.
“i realized something when we got off the phone the other day,” you bring up, as your eyes run over each of his facial features.
“tell me,” he rolls his icy lips into his mouth.
“i never said sorry for being nasty to you on your birthday.”
matt’s eyes squint, “it’s fine, i’m not hung up on that shit. we said we’re good, right?”
“yes, but-”
“alright then,” he shrugs and squeezes your ass in reassurance.
a smile graces your face and and you let your head fall to his shoulder, whispering, “matt…i’m cold now.”
“i’ve been waiting for you to say that, oh my god!”
౨ৎ
you both suffer as you put your clothes back on over your wet skin. you’re both chattering messes and simply cannot stop laughing about it as you make your way back to the boardwalk’s strip of raging bright lights.
you don’t get far before you’re begging matt to win you an oversized faux fur leopard print coat, “it’s just what i need, please!”
and he’s spent almost two twenties replaying this stupid game over and over again. you’re a pretty good cheerleader though.
“come on matt, you got it this time! no pressure! it’s only like i’m dying of hypothermia!” he deadpans as he looks over to you, “what?”
it was a simple game of ring toss- that was most definitely rigged, but besides you reminding him this and saying you didn’t need the coat that much, the stand runner’s comments doubting matt was enough to fuel him to continue playing until he wins.
and somehow he tosses the perfect ring, watching it land and swivel around the bottle in victory. you both outwardly celebrate with screams and a very public kiss, that the two of you just can’t stop sharing today.
“congratulations,” the employee boredly says.
“thank you sir, thank you.” matt then obnoxiously turns around and yells out a speech to the random passersby “i wanna thank my mother, my grandmother, brothers, dog, and you people for giving me this opportunity to win something so grand for my sweet sunshine!” you stop giggling to give a royal wave to the many people judging the two of you, “thank you santa monica!” he blows a kiss and you both spin around to claim your prize.
“you two are like cartoon characters,” the stand runner says. and as soon as you start to grin at him he corrects, “that wasn’t a compliment.”
“whatever man, just give the pretty girl the fucking coat,” matt blinks at him. as the man walks away to grab the fluff off of the rack a few people stop by the table and matt warns them, “if i were you i’d keep walkin’, this guy’s a first-class hater.”
you drag matt by his arm back over to you, “did you take your socially-overbearing pills today?!”
“i have no clue, i think im too cold for my brain to process embarrassment anymore.”
“here’s that coat,” the man hands you it with a shake of his head.
“thank you, sir!” you exclaim and immediately fit your arms from the sleeves, “this is everything i’ve ever wanted!” you say as your jaw goes slack.
“you look good,” matt agrees, “you also look warm, so now i’m jealous.”
“let’s go get you something warm, baby.”
౨ৎ
after a trip to a random gift shop for a hoodie, matt whined about needing real food so bad.
so the two of you stand at the hostess stand in a small mexican restaurant on the strip.
“for two?”
“yes, thank you.”
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay?” matt speaks close to your ear and you simply nod and watch him walk off.
you wait a few moments before the hostess offers to take you to your table, “did you want to go sit now or wait for your boyfriend?” she asks kindly.
you try not to make it so apparent that you enjoy the idea of you being matt’s girlfriend, “yeah, i can sit now, he’ll find me.”
౨ৎ
“i’ll have the chicken burrito please with extra rice,” matt orders as he sits across from you.
“and i’ll have the four birria tacos please,” you hand her the menu kindly.
you both are bundled up ridiculously with frizzy hair and barely-dry clothes, you’re surprised anyone agreed to serve you.
“alright, that should be out shortly!”
when she walks away matt asks, “why didn’t you get a drink? i’m just curious.”
“i swore off drinking until my birthday,” you shrug and fall back into the plush of the booth.
“mm, not smoking either?” he sips his water.
“i mean i haven’t smoked since early august but no i didn’t purposely stop.”
matt nods, “well if you were to drink, what are you ordering? i usually go for a corona but i wanna try something different.”
“oh strawberry margarita, a hundred percent. hits everytime.”
“i’ve never had a margarita so i’ll try it.”
your jaw drops, “hell yeah you’re gonna try it, i can’t believe you!”
“what can i say?” matt shrugs.
౨ৎ
matt plays with the toothpick in his mouth as you both sit in your spots for the bus ride home. he got to enjoy his first margarita and you took multiple pictures to document it, he bought you churros to go, and now you both are the most tired you’ve been in a while.
you quietly respond to texts that andrea sent you hours ago, asking what you’re doing and if you’ll be home soon, while matt lays his head on your shoulder sleepily.
eventually you shut your phone off and calmly rest your head against the chilled window for the rest of the ride.
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heaven4lostgirls · 17 hours
Text
I deserve better (A.H)
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3
summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.
word count: 1.5k
There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.
You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.
“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.
“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.
 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.
 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.
“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.
“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”
“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”
“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”
Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.
“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.
Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.
“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.
You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.
As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.
You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.
In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.
Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.
Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.
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