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muchosbesitos · 6 months

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the other woman part 2

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: cheating (once more, i do not condone nor endorse this🤨), bit of angst (?), and fluff

author’s note: finally 😱 sorry it took me so long to get it out lol, hope you all enjoy <33 (gave myself ptsd with the frijoles 😓)

word count: 4k

the other woman part one

You re-read the text message from Miguel over and over again until the words were basically imprinted in your brain, the constant reminder of what this relationship really was. It was just an exchange of pleasure, nothing more and nothing less. Though you'd sworn that you wouldn't engage in any of Miguel’s messages anymore, a part of you couldn't help but be curious as to why he wanted to come over now. You took a few deep breaths to calm your self down, your hands clammy as you typed out a response to his message.

You: ok. no hooking up though

Miguel: 👍🏽

About a half hour later, a loud knock was heard on your door, successfully waking you up from the tiny nap you'd taken. You rushed to clean up the empty ice cream container in front of you and wipe away some away some of the stickiness that was in the corner in your mouth. You opened up the door to see Miguel standing there with disheveled hair and his lab coat still on, probably just getting off from work. The two of you awkwardly looked at each other for a couple seconds before you motioned him to come in, opening the door.

He sat on the couch with his arms folded as he watched the tv show in front of him, not saying anything. You had half the mind to ask him what it was he came over for, but you decided just to wait it out and let him speak when he was ready. "So, Dana told me she confronted you at a coffee shop," he spoke up after a couple minutes, his eyes still focused on the tv. "She did, it was my fault though. I shouldn't have been staring at her for so long," you mumbled, still feeling that lingering embarrassment from your previous confrontation with her. He finally shifted his body to face yours, his hands crossed on his lap and he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but quickly clamped it shut.

"She and I are getting a divorce. She's known for a while now that I've been seeing you and she's been seeing someone else," he told you, your eyes widening a bit in confusion. He'd told you that they were on the path towards fixing things, that he wouldn't need your company anymore the last time he was in your bed, so this came as a complete curveball. "I'm sorry. I know you tried to keep your relationship intact," you offered, putting your hand on his arm to offer him some kind of comfort. He placed his arm on top of yours before he spoke again, "I didn't come here for your sympathy. I came here because.. I want you to be with me. No hiding and no illicit affairs."

You pulled your hand back from his, biting down on your bottom lip as you started to consider the possibility of actually being in a relationship with Miguel. You'd expected for this moment to make you feel better, that you'd be up in the air cheering from joy, but all you felt was doubt crawling up to the forefront of your mind. "Please say something," Miguel let out with a small sigh, his gaze on where his hand was holding yours.

“I don't want to be in a relationship with you, Miguel."

"Why? Is it because of Dana confronting you? We can work around that, I promise."

"No. It's just.. your daughter's just gonna see me as the person that fucked up her parents' relationship."

"Our relationship was fucked before you even came in the picture, chula. Me and Dana were planning on talking to her and explain the situation."

You nibbled on your bottom lip as you withheld the real reason that you didn't want to be involved with him, but you were snapped out of your thoughts when Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder. "Tell me what's stopping you from getting in a relationship with me and we can work it out. Or I can leave and give you some time to think about it," he told you, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he spoke. "I don't trust you, Miguel. And that wasn't a problem when we were just sleeping together because I wasn't the one you were going home to. But now you're asking me to put trust and hope that you want to be in a relationship with me and I can't," you finally admitted, his face slightly falling as you spoke.

He stood up and brushed away some invisible wrinkles from his dress shirt, looking over at you. "I'm here asking you to be with me and you don't trust me?" He asked you, almost like you were in the wrong for even doubting him. "You cheated on Dana, who may I remind you, you were married to. So is the concept of me worrying about you cheating on me so outlandish?" You respond, standing up as you looked up at him. He let out a small sigh, placing his hand on your cheek before he dipped his head down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll gain your trust, okay?"

The next couple of months following that night, the rumors that Miguel was recently single began to surface around. Even though you'd taken the initiative to get some space away from him, your heart couldn't help but ache every time you saw one of his lab assistants throw themselves at him. You kept your head down and tried to avoid Miguel at the lab as much as possible, but you couldn't help but notice his lingering stares when you came in to check up on his work. You quickly took notice of his bare ring finger but you didn't let it get your hopes up, you felt like Miguel could easily replace you at any moment and that overpowered any feelings that you felt towards him.

You were dreading having to go to the company party this afternoon, but you decided on going regardless since it was a retirement party for one of your old mentors. The heels on your feet felt uncomfortable as soon as you put it on and the dress you were wearing felt too tight, like you couldn't breathe properly, but you eventually tried to calm down and headed to the Alchemax building. You could tell that the party was set up last minute by the way the streamers were just tossed around and the balloons had zero shape, but you found yourself enjoying the atmosphere regardless.

After congratulating Dr. Connors on his retirement, you sat down at one of the tables and drank the champagne that was being passed around by the caterers. Your eyes widened when you saw that Miguel arrived, wearing a black button down and black slacks that fit him perfectly. It was similar to his work attire, but you'd been avoiding him for so long that you forgot just how handsome he could really be. You gulped down the rest of your champagne and silently prayed to whatever entity there was above that he wouldn't approach you, you were certain that your heart couldn't handle it.

"Is this seat taken?" You looked up to see Miguel standing there, his arm on the top of the chair as he started pulling it back. "No," you responded simply, averting your gaze from him and you noticed that some of the other women at the party were staring at him. You looked through your peripheral to see that Miguel was already staring at you, one of his fingers coming to trail the lace of the dress you had on. "Why aren't you out there talking with your other co-workers? They've all been feening after they heard you were single," you turned to ask him, wanting to know his reasoning for being here with you. "Feening?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping from his lips as he looked at you. "And who told you I was single, chula? Even though we're not together, you're the one that owns my heart," he whispered, kissing your forehead before he walked away.

You felt your heartbeat in your ears after he left, completely speechless after what he said. One of the coworkers you frequented lunch with, Alison, walked over to talk to you but your mind couldn't help but race with thoughts about what Miguel had said. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Alison waved in front of your face, your eyes focusing on her once more. "Sorry about that," you muttered, rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly. "What's on your mind?" She asked, not bothering to keep up with the conversation about her research. You shared the details of what happened with Miguel without actually naming him, and you felt a sense of relief when she didn't show any judgement despite you acknowledging that you’d gotten with a married man.

"Well, obviously I don't condone cheating and I do agree with the point that you're making, that you'd be stupid to think that he wouldn't do the same thing to you. But it sounds like he's really willing to put in the work into working this out with you, and I mean you'll never really have a guarantee that he won't cheat but it's better to just try it out," she offered her bit of advice and you nodded, letting the words really sink in. You changed the subject back to her research, not wanting to think about your relationship problems with Miguel for one night, and you actually paid attention to what she was saying this time. The two of you ended up having a pleasant time talking but you couldn't help but notice that across the room, Miguel couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"Ew, dude. What the fuck?!" You exclaimed when you felt someone's saliva hit your arm while you were waiting for the valet to bring your car back. "Sorry about that," you heard the same intern from a couple weeks ago speak, a throaty laugh escaping from her lips. "Do you have a problem with me or something?" You turned around, your brows furrowing as you wiped away the residue. "My problem is that you think you're so much better than us because you got to bang Miguel, but the truth is that you're nothing but a miserable homewrecker," she scoffed, coughing into her arm afterwards. "Like you weren't throwing yourself at him just a couple weeks ago," you countered back, though a small part of you knew that she had a point. She got closer to you, her nostrils flaring and you could've sworn she had something else to say but someone came in between you two.

"That's enough, don't you think?" Miguel spoke, facing her as he blocked your body away from view. "But Mr. O’Hara, she started it. I would never stoop down to her level, I promise," she whined as you rolled your eyes, biting your tongue back. "Just so you have it clear, I will never be interested in you. Not now and not ever. And I don't want to hear you calling her a homewrecker again when you don't have all the facts," he responded, his back tense as he spoke to her. You heard her footsteps retreat and Miguel turned to look at you once she was out of sight, tilting your chin up so you'd look at him. "Don't let her get to you, okay?" He whispered, keeping eye contact with you. You nodded, feeling some butterflies in your stomach as you walked to your car.

You called in sick on Monday, waking up with a headache and fever, your body completely sore. You only got up from the bed when you heard a knock on your door, assuming that it was probably your Amazon package. "What are you doing here?" You asked, your nose sniffling a bit as you looked over at Miguel. "I heard about what happened. I came to bring you some stuff," he told you, holding up a Walgreens bag. You opened the door to let him in, grabbing a couple tissues on the way back to the couch. You grabbed some lysol from a kitchen drawer and began to spray the couch along with the area around you so you wouldn't infect Miguel.

"Vaporub?" You mumbled, holding up the small container as you looked up at him. “Look, say what you want but that thing seriously has some healing abilities," he responded seriously and you simply nodded, rubbing some on your chest. "I wasn't sure if you ate already or not so I brought you some chicken soup. There's also a couple cough syrups in there, I wasn't sure which one to get," he added, sitting down on the couch next to you. You looked over at him, noticing how nervous he looked to be around you once more. "How was work?" You asked, facing away from him as you coughed into your arm.

The two of you ended up watching the second season of Narcos on your couch, talking about work or talking about the show itself. "I’m sorry for trying to pressure you into being in a relationship with me right after I asked for a divorce from my ex-wife. I know why you have your doubts and I'm sorry that I didn't take those things into account," he told you, rubbing small circles on your thigh as the second season ended. You leaned your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the embrace. Truth was, no matter how much you tried to deny your feelings for Miguel, you always found yourself coming back to feel the comfort that he could provide you with. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting that after you told me that we'd be ending things."

Miguel’s movements on your thighs suddenly ceased and he turned to look at you, holding your chin up. "I know you're not exactly ready to be in a relationship with me and I can't really blame you for that. but I've been wondering, what if we take this slow? Like I'll take you out once you feel better and we can start getting to know more about each other than what we look like naked," he offered and you had to bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from smiling too hard. "I'd like that a lot," you responded, leaning into kiss his cheek before pulling away, remembering that you had a cold.

About a week later, your cold had completely faded away and you got a text from Miguel, telling you to keep your schedule open today. You couldn't help the large grin that appeared on your face at the prospect of finally going on a date with Miguel, at finally being able to be seen in public with him without any repercussions. Nothing could bring down your mood today, not even your bitchy coworkers spreading rumors or the dirty looks you received when you walked down the hall. You did your best to finish your work as soon as possible so you'd have enough time to shower and get ready.

You'd chosen to wear a simple black dress with some flats since you weren't completely sure where Miguel was taking you, not wanting to look too casual or too fancy. You practically ran over to the door when you heard a knock on your door, your eyes widening when you saw miguel and his daughter standing there. "Hola!" Gabriella told you and you could've sworn it was like looking at a replica of Miguel. "Hola chiquitina, how are you?" You smiled, opening the door and stepping back so they'd come in. Gabriella began to talk about her day at school and soccer practice, a small smile forming on your face at just how energetic she seemed to be.

Miguel tapped you on the shoulder, handing you a bouquet of flowers with a small smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind that I brought Gabi over. Her babysitter wasn't available and i thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know her," he told you, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. "No worries, she seems like a lovely kid anyways," you responded, bringing the flowers up to your nose as a smile crossed your face. You went over to the kitchen to put them in a vase, setting them on the kitchen table when you felt a tug on your dress.

"Are you gonna be my new mami?" Gabriella asked, a toothy grin on her face as she looked up at you expectantly. You kneeled down to her level, holding her small hands in yours. "I'm not gonna be your new mommy, because you already have a mommy that loves you and cares for you very much. I have no intentions of replacing your mom, but I do have every intention of taking care of you and loving you," you responded honestly, brushing a loose strand of her hair back. The answer seemed to satisfy her since she pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face into you. "Thank you for being nice! A lot of the kids at school complain about their step-mommies being mean."

Miguel ended up taking you two to an arcade so you and Gabriella could have some fun together and have an opportunity to bond. "Papi! Can we have wings, please?" Gabriella asked when you all stepped inside, automatically running to the food court. "Tenemos frijoles en la casa, chiquitina," he protested but he didn't really sound like he meant it. (we have beans at home) "Papi, we've been eating frijoles for two days now. Let's take a break, pleaseee?" She asked him, putting on her best puppy eyes for him. "Yeah Miguel, pleaseee?" You asked, joining Gabriella and making puppy eyes. He let out a small groan, rubbing his temples before he let himself be taken to the food court. "You two combined is gonna be the death of me, I swear."

Though Miguel had been the one to protest the most against buying food, he'd been the one who ordered twelve wings and a large order of fries. "¿No que no querías?" Gabriella teased him, taking a large sip from her milkshake. (thought you didn’t want any) "Well, I couldn't leave you two eating alone, would be very rude of me," he responded as he took a bite from his fries, making Gabriella giggle. “Should've brought your frijoles in a tupperware," you added in as a joke, though his brows furrowed as he considered it. "Might have to do that for the movie theater next time. I swear, those prices are a scam," he muttered before he went back to eating.

The rest of the meal was spent between Gabriella sharing stories about her friends and how she made five goals at practice today and you trying to keep up with what she was telling you, hoping to score some brownie points with her. Miguel had a small smile on his face as he watched you interact with Gabriella, staying silent for most of the meal. "Is something wrong?" You asked Miguel when Gabriella ran off to get the tickets for the games you'd all be playing. "No, the opposite actually. It's so nice seeing you interact well with Gabriella. I was worried that she wouldn't like you but I think she felt reassured when you told her you weren't trying to replace Dana," he responded, holding your hand as he walked with you to where Gabriella was.

You groaned as you struggled to knock the bottles down, but you didn't want to give up out of your want for the huge Spider-Man plushie. Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder, telling you to step to the side before he handed his tickets to the man at the stand. He threw the balls at the bottles, his forearms flexing with every movement and you could've sworn you felt a bit of drool collecting at the side of your mouth. "Which one do you want?" He asked you after he effectively knocked down the bottles, the man at the stand practically seething at how easy it'd been for him. You pointed to the Spider-Man plushie, a big smile on your face as you held it close to your chest once he’d handed it over.

"Thank you," you told Miguel, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "Anything to see you smile that way," he remarked, his words always having the ability to make you get flustered. The two of you headed to where Gabriella was at, joining her in the basketball game that she was playing. She let out a scoff after Miguel won, clearly pissed off. "It's not fair! You're basically a giant, papi!" She whined, looking up at him. "Don't be bitter, chiquita. I'll even let you keep the plushie if you behave," he responded, letting out a small chuckle. "Kid has a point, y'know?" You respond, letting out a laugh of your own. Miguel playfully rolled his eyes and bent down to tickle Gabriella, her giggles filling up the mostly empty arcade room.

The three of you went to try out a couple games and you teamed up with Gabriella after she'd asked you to. the two of you had lost against Miguel in the hockey game and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he saw the frowns on your faces. "What was unfair about this game, Gabi?" He asked her, his voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. "You're the only unfair part, papi. You're just too good," she grumbled, running off to go play whack a mole. You and Miguel headed towards the car games and even though he could hardly fit on the motorcycle, it was still an enjoyable activity for the both of you.

Miguel handed her the My Little Pony plushie that he'd claimed to get for himself after he won the basketball game, a bright smile on Gabriella’s face as you all walked out of the arcade. "Did you enjoy yourself, nena?" Miguel asked Gabriella, the kid practically beaming as she held the Pinkie Pie plushie. "I did, thank you for letting me meet your girlfriend papi," she replied, and you didn't have the heart to tell her that you weren't Miguel’s girlfriend yet so you stayed quiet. "Thanks for not telling her that we're not dating. She's been really understanding about the divorce but she doesn't quite grasp the concept of the talking stage," he spoke up after gabi fell asleep in the back seat, your eyes drifting from the window to him. "You don't have to thank me for doing the bare minimum, Miguel. I like your kid and i don't wanna see her upset," you assured him, holding his hand that wasn't on the steering wheel.

For the first time since you and Miguel had been intertwined with each other, he brought you over to his place. he carried a sleeping Gabriella inside, taking her with such ease to her room and you couldn't help but look around at the decorations. At the scattered books on the shelves, a combination of some peer-reviewed science journals and kid's stories. You felt like for the first time you'd caught a glimpse of who Miguel was behind that exterior that he put on and you wanted to learn as much as you could. He came back to the living room, wrapping his around your waist as he leaned his head in the crook of your neck. "Ready for bed, chula?"

Miguel didn't try to initiate anything sexual and neither did you, but that didn't stop the two of you from clashing tongues after you guys changed into your pajamas. You'd missed the way he tasted on your tongue, the way he kissed you like he was dying of thirst and you were the only source of water. The two of you eventually came to a stop when a knock was heard on the door, Gabriella standing there with her pinkie pie plushie. "Can I sleep with you guys?" She asked, rubbing her eyes since she was still half asleep. Miguel nodded, making some space in between you two to let her lay down. As you fell asleep that night with your arms wrapped around Gabriella, you couldn't help but feel grateful that Miguel and his little girl had welcomed you to be a part of their family.

@m4dyy @ginnysculture

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generalsmemories · 6 months

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3 in fluff scenarios with Dan Heng for the event? :3

Lovely melody

✧ dan heng x gn!reader

✧ prompts used: that warm feeling they get when they successfully make the other one laugh out loud || 1k event

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, spoilers for main quest and 1.4 main event, and dan heng's companion quest

✧ a/n: i think everyone heals a lot inside whenever dan heng shows a hint of a smile (me going into camera mode with both his forms to see that tiny little smile) so let's give this boi some well deserved laughter after his very good job onboard the luofu

ya'll know the drill, not beta-read so if you see any mistakes - you didn't.

Dan Heng seemed to behave differently after he decided to meet with Bailu. A meeting you were first incredibly worried about after getting to know what had once to him onboard the Luofu years ago - but he had only given you a tiny smile and a brief hug to console you, whispering that he would bring the trailblazer for safety measures.

You had noted that it was the first time that he had personally left the archives after the initial expedition had come to an end and the stellaron disaster had been solved.

And normally you would've been delighted over the fact that he had taken the effort to come out to hang out at the cabin area with the others, even if he spoke less than before. While you're worried about his reason for stepping out of the express once again, you know that its his wish - and by no means are you to hold someone back from wishing to face a certain part of themselves.

Especially when it comes to Dan Heng.

Either way, when he came back after taking a trip back down to Luofu, he had once again shut himself back into the archives - there was an attempt to console you in the form of a brief nod with a small smile.

It did not help at all.

But you knew better than to actually rush him into explaining things or even tell you something - he still needed to wrap his own head around what had just happened after all.

So you were in utter glee when March and the trailblazer had suggested to bring Dan Heng back to Belobog for their annual Solwarm festival, deciding to wait outside of the archives as they went in to ask him. But your happiness is short-lived when the duo comes out with a frown, the trailblazer shaking their head while March just sighs out in disappointment.

"He won't budge at all. I would ask you to come and join us [Name], but you're probably too worried about him now to join, huh?" March asks in a futile attempt, and you can only give her a resigned smile yourself, "Sorry, you two. Do enjoy the festival for both of us though. I think Himeko is at the end of this cart if you're going to ask her for help," you say, waving the two goodbye - entering the room only when they turn the corner.

Dan Heng is still standing with his back turned towards the door when you enter, and he doesn't turn around when he speaks out loud either. "You really don't have to stay behind at the express for me, you know? I'm fine, just a bit tired."

You don't answer, merely taking a few cautious steps towards him although you stop moving when you're just within arms reach "... Do you want me to?" you ask instead.

"..." he doesn't answer at first, but he quickly turns around to take a few steps towards you, reaching for your hand to pull you towards him before immediately burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. "... Thank you."

While Dan Heng doesn't say anything more after his initial vulnerability, but you can tell very quickly from the way he's acting that he doesn't want you to leave his sight. You've resigned yourself to spend majority of your time inside the archives - getting a lot of updates of March's and trailblazers situation and condition through various selfies and long rants from March.

You show all of the pictures to Dan Heng who has his head resting on your lap whilst reading the updates from March out loud. While he doesn't comment on anything, content with hearing your own thoughts about the matter - you've managed to see him crack a small smile or let out a light chuckle at some of the stories March gives or even your own thoughts.

While it doesn't seem like a lot from the outside or to anyone else, the small chuckle he lets out makes your heart soar. And when you glance down at him after putting away your phone, he merely raises an eyebrow in silence. "What is it?" he asks, ever so oblivious at your newfound joy.

"Nothing," you answer, not able to hold back your smile as you bend your neck a tiny bit to peck him on the lips.

A few more days passes, and whilst March and the trailblazer wasn't able to enjoy the festival because of circumstances (that you have very much been updated on) they had instead found a newfound joy in a new game that had taken Belobog by storm - having sent a picture to you about their new companion who they had affectionally named: Puffball.

It seemed that keeping himself to the archives and accompanied by your presence seemed to help Dan Heng tremendously, now able to take more trips down to the main cabin instead of you having to make the trek to the kitchen yourself to bring food back to the archives.

He's even made some comments on the mutual groupchat of the express, giving March and trailblazer a few pointers - to which he was responded with a flurry of stickers from March you could practically feel her excitement through the screen.

And whilst Himeko and Welt made the trip down to Belobog to watch the final tourmanets in person, you and Dan Heng had resorted to watching the livestream on the holographic screen inside the archives.

Dan Heng wasn't as hooked to the game or the tournament, but seeing your excited expression whenever you saw either March or the trailblazer on the screen did make him relax significantly - having his attention on you and your expression most of the times than the livestream.

Not that you noticed though.

He had started to pay attention to the screen when the grand finale was about to commence though - just as curious as you about this mysterious player that had participated in the event.

"They won!" you shouted in glee before the trotter had even landed the final blow, making Dan Heng jolt in surprsie at the sudden loudness - but you were too ecstatic to even notice, turning towards him with a glint in your eyes that made Dan Heng's words die in his mouth.

"I knew they were going to win! Sure Hook as an elite player surprised me, but there was no way March and the trailblazer would lose! After all they even went with your tips and strategy with the right chips and had that amazing line up - they were almost unkillable!" you spouted, going on and on about the strategic points and the efficient use of their set up - Dan Heng still blinking in mild surprise at your sudden informative outburst.

You still don't notice how he's completeley shell-shocked at your new vigor, and while 70% of his attentin was on your continued rant on how they could optimize the team further, he gets a personal message from Himeko - the video showing Welt having jumped up from his seat with as much excitement as you during the finale.

And maybe it's that video about Welt along with your own enthusiasm about a game that you were previously very neutral about is what finally cracks him.

But you first hear the light snicker come from him, which makes you immediately quiet down because of sheer surprise. The light snicker that comes from your lover soon turns into a hearty laugh while his body starts to shake slightly.

And you swear you've never been so in love.

There's a few stray tears forming at the corner of his eyes, to which Dan Heng brings a delicate finger to brush away, mouth still spread into a smile - his cheeks are a tiny bit flushed from having laughed way longer than he normally does and his body is still trembling slightly.

If only you could've recorded this entire interaction.

It takes Dan Heng a couple of deep breathes before he notices your awestruck expression, his smile fading a bit as he grows concerned, but before he can ask you only cup his cheeks again and shuffle closer to him - the same sparkle in your eyes still present, but now for entirely different reasons than before.

"You laughed!" you state with a broad smile, and the male before you blinks in surprise, cheeks reddening a bit at your upfront statement.

But before he can even say anything, you let out a chuckle yourself, "You laughed!" you reaffirm, now with a softer voice.

Dan Heng is still confused, but you only shake your head before leaning in to kiss him, "You finally laughed again."

And only when you say that does Dan Heng piece together all of your worries for the past week. The realization making him let out a resigned chuckle, bringing a hand behind your head to pull your face closer to him and press his lips against your own again.

"How can I not when you were acting that excited over a game of all things?"

You don't refute or say anything, only laughing more which makes his small smile widen.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you #dan heng x reader #reader insert #x reader

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

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laying down in bed with simon after you both finally come home and you start sharing stories and going over stuff that happened back at the base—he’s just quietly listening along until you mention how one of the soldiers purposely played the victim card when they tripped and fell. and simon would start LAUGHING. like not giggling, laughing. and you try to play it cool on the inside but you’re nearly ready to explode with excitement.

you’d be saying something like, ‘im serious simon. he milked the fuck outta that injury, all he did was trip over a dandelion. tell me why i saw him the next day walking into the mess hall with a cast on and crutches?’ and he’d fucking lose his mind

dude. imagine how comfortable he would have to be to LAUGH around someone. not his usual scoff or chuckle, but to genuinely find something hilarious.

you're both exhausted; muscles achy and sore, throats raw and dry, minds foggy and worn. all you desire to do — all you can do, is fall on the bed next to each other.

as always, simon silently nods and listens as you ramble about your eventful day. even if not much happened, he's going to listen. today was a treat, though, if you were to put it lightly.

"kid you not, simon, this rookie is going to drive me up the wall." you clench your fists as you picture the aggravating event. the rookie that had cried wolf, and somehow got away with it.

you've peaked the lieutenant's interest, making him raise a brow. "oh yeah, need me to kick his ass?"

his eagerness makes you scoff playfully. you wish it were that simple. "not that kind of problem," you say, continuing on with the story. "he tripped over a stick. claims he broke his foot — and now he's been cleared for light duties, all while my team and i pick up his slack."

from folded behind his head, his hand shot out to his mouth, failing to conceal the brief cackle you caused him. if there was one thing he had plenty of experience wit, it was pain-in-the-ass recruits. not laughter. that was new.

"a bloody stick?!" he exclaims, shaking his head at the ridiculousness. the silver lining to the bureaucracy, was that you had successfully lightened the damper on his mood. "if you want, love, I can make sure he's actually broken his foot. teach him not to cry wolf?" would he? probably. and honestly, you weren't that opposed. the recruit was a proper prick who hadn't gotten his rude awakening yet.

"this stick," he spoke after a few seconds of gentle chuckles, rolling over to face you. "how big are we talking? me big, or...?"

cheeky bastard.

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therealhousewifeofharrystyles · 3 months

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Harry’s Home

Part III.

Read Part 1 Here!

Read Part 2 Here!

Pairing/AU: Roommate!Harry // Roommate!Y/N

Word Count: ~ 4k words

⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Pining, Sexual Desire, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Fantasies of Rough Sex, Breeding Fantasies, Exhibitionism, Explicit Depictions of Masturbation(M&F), Dirty Talk, ~Slow Burn~

So, yeah. Harry and I have successfully become somewhat close. We’ve put up with each other’s shit for long enough and eventually bonded—or whatever the hell you call it when a pair of sex-starved adults live in close quarters and they decide to play nice so the walls don’t come down on them.

Even though it’s the time of year when I can see my breath and I have to wear socks to protect my chilly toes when I’m lounging around the house, when I’m around Harry…I might as well be a tea kettle on the verge of squealing in steaming agony. I guess you could say I’ve been in heat.

I’m catching myself spacing all the time, hypnotized by his comfortable routine. He grasps my attention like it’s second-nature to him, and I have no other choice but to relent—to surrender. How fucking pathetic is that? Like, get a grip, woman.

But seriously, I can’t take it anymore. I turn powerless and my body betrays me, simply from the man meeting my eyes with his from across the room. For someone to hold this much control over another human being by just existing…not only is it completely unfair, but it feels otherworldly. It’s as though a connection has been birthed out of the rawest, most sinful form of lust, with its sole purpose to fuse a pair of unwed and horny humans. Thus latching itself onto the two of us, melding an incubus with a siren.

I guess it could just be some crazy-intense sexual tension, too. There’s no fun in that explanation, but whatever. The point is that I can’t fucking take it anymore. Me being so mesmerized by him performing the most mundane of tasks—unscrewing a new jar of jam, rubbing the sleep out of his face as he stumbles out of his bedroom, sneaking little peeks at me from across the room and smirking to himself after he looks away. God. That smirk keeps me up at night…my hands groping myself and massaging my clit to lull myself to dreamland.

Right…so about that…

For the past few months, Harry’s been able to hear me fucking myself through the thin wall that separates our two bedrooms. The divider does absolutely nothing to silence me and my explicit acts of self-pleasure. These walls couldn’t muffle a mouse, let alone an ambitiously horny, and impressively vocal young woman who’s desperate to get her rocks off…hard.

And I’m certain he can hear everything—every gasp, every whine, every slick plunge of my fingers—or a toy—as they’re used in a merciless attack on my own body in order to chase an unattainable high…It's loud. It’s filthy.

It’s pornographic.

And yet Harry indulges in my songs. I know he does. The only way I’m able to get myself off is to picture him on the other side…to close my eyes and astral-project my way into his room and assume the role of the voyeur…as the exhibitionist. I’m a walking oxymoron.

I imagine my waves of ecstasy seeping through the walls to awaken his neglected cock in his tight briefs.

I think to myself,

…I bet he’s wondering whether or not I'm messing with him...if I know he’s listening to me…and if, perhaps, I want him to listen…

If only I were just playing a sick game of tease…Such a possibility would be utterly humiliating for Harry. He loathes feeling like his control is in the hands of another. Said power landing in my hands? Oh…No, no, no. Lest we forget the towel incident? Don’t let the sensitive late-night talks, the apology hugs, or the sleepy cuddles fool you; a switch, Harry is not. Not that he’s told me or anything, but it’s a feeling. When he drags his eyes down to slowly assess me…there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he’s in charge.

He has a limited threshold for teasing and babying, which is precisely why he shooed his own mother out the door after a mere 5 minutes of her jests. Harry spent his entire life as the baby. I sense he’s needed a release for quite some time…and it probably doesn’t help matters that my playful antics are sure-fire triggers for his dark dominance to take over. I think he’s struggled to find the right mate to unleash that part of himself with. At least completely, that is. And I hope I’ve been pressing just the right buttons to experience it all for myself.

But yes, I’ve been fucking myself with lotsa gusto knowing he’s in close earshot of the action. Hopefully, he’s come to successfully make sense of some of my muffled ramblings beyond his wall as, “Yes, Daddy!” as well as the occasional gasp or moan of “Harry.” What? I like it…

Although I’d love to exacerbate the narrative that this has all just been a cruel game started by yours truly—a game that I’m winning, to be clear—I'm actually not messing with him. This had begun purely by accident, and now I'm just continuing to provide some adult entertainment for my, uh...housemate and…good friend.

Before you scold me for being a perv, let me just finish explaining the situation. Because if Harry had a problem with something I did, he’d tell me. And he never complained about this. Never.

Quite the opposite, actually.

The first time I did my private deeds with Harry eavesdropping in the next room, I'd initially felt horribly embarrassed. I hadn't realized how shameless I was, or how loud and desperate the noises were as they came out of me. Once I finally caught myself, it was like space and time had spun to a stop, and I was painfully aware of my raw indecency.

I wasn’t watching porn, reading erotica, or listening to naughty audio recordings. Nope. Only my lustful thoughts fueled the eagerness in my fingers as they played with my pussy. I’d also been blatantly inconsiderate of Harry and his right to privacy whilst they did. I felt dirty. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Pfft, I was hardly thinking of anything. It reminded me of the time just before we moved into this house…when I lurked on his social media pages for the images of his slick, half-naked body which burned themselves into my memory, all just to use him for my own personal, sick, sexual gratification.

And there I was again—now cohabiting a space with the very inspiration for my filth and frustration—lying comfortably atop a spacious, girly pink towel to protect my bed linens from succumbing to my wetness. My knees were spread apart and my dripping cunt was on full display for my closed door across the room. If anyone walked in, they'd unknowingly be entering what many theme parks tend to call a “splash zone.”

Luckily, Harry was in the living room watching some melodramatic video essay on YouTube…Or at least that’s where I’d left him before ending up in the not-so-innocent position atop my mattress.

I hadn’t thought about the fact that the house wasn’t empty until I heard my own whiny sighs combined with unmistakable slippery pussy-rubbing echoing throughout the room. My cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink once I’d realized the extent of my elevated volume. There was no way Harry couldn’t have heard all that. And I had no idea how long I’d been up to it, or for how long at that high of a frequency.

The click of a door closing nearby interrupted my nervous internal monologue—Harry’s door. He was mere meters away from my partially-nude body, but my private quarters kept me safe from any judging eyes. The wall our bedrooms shared stood as the only barricade between our two bodies. For a while, I dismissed my initial self-awareness and I slowly, and carefully, swirled my drenched fingertips over my clit. More of my liquid arousal coated my petite hand. For some reason, the idea of Harry walking in on me like that had me feeling hot. Realistically, that would’ve meant immediate, devastating humiliation. Did that mean I was into that? I’d say yes judging by the way I was pulsing around nothing whilst staring at my door, picturing the man himself standing there smirking at me…tilting his head and patronizing me.

…Aw, would you look at tha’…Does that feel good, Sweet Bunny?

“Mmhmm.” I found myself nodding with a sigh, my eyes relaxed and veiled. My mind refused to backtrack, and instead doubled-down. I probably should have stopped myself right there, but fuck, could self-sabotage feel good.

My brain directed me towards thinking about how pretty and sweet I was on the outside. My body, soft, and my features, so delicate, but so grabbable. Every part of me had an ample amount of plushness to squeeze. To manhandle. My tiny wrists and my elegant neck, the perfect size for a pair of big hands to wrap around. I bit my rosy lip on a whine, then brought my thumb up to rub and tease it before sucking on it. The sinful acts my mouth performed were a secret I kept with the few lucky men who’d experienced it for themselves. I wanted so badly to share that with Harry…I wanted to share all of myself with him.

“Mmm…Harry.” I moaned aloud, releasing my wet thumb and sneaking it under my shirt, swiping the slick pad back and forth over my sensitive tit.

It was hard for me not to think about Harry whenever I touched myself. I thought about his fingers playing with my hair, him burying his face into my neck the times we cuddled…feeling his hard-on against my ass on the couch…the times when he’d hugged me…and catching his gaze drift down to my tits…I bet he’d thought I’d never notice, even after having done it multiple times in a single conversation. Hmm…was Harry Styles an ass man or a tit man? Or was he something else…? He certainly liked looking at my boobs…and I'm able to confirm that his body has a very positive reaction to pressing up against my butt…

Honestly, I didn’t even care what parts of the body Harry liked the most. All I cared about was how badly I wanted to feel him use mine. I wrapped my small hand around my throat and arched my back up off of the mattress, gasping as I mindlessly pushed two hooked fingers inside my tight opening, picturing a certain tall, curly-headed British man molesting me instead. The sound of my own moans enhanced my pleasure as I rode myself towards peak bliss. My modesty had become non-existent as my hands worked each sensitive spot between my legs and teased at my pebbled nipples. A part of me needed him to hear me that night. I was getting off on that taboo. But that’s all it was…my imagination.

It was just a silly little fantasy. Harmless exhibitionism. I wasn’t actually being that loud…—but that’s when I suddenly heard more feedback beyond the wall. It’d been some time since I’d heard the door click shut. My personal distractions got in the way of keeping track of time.

There was an urgent fumbling. A repetitive clinking. The sound resembled a bit of metal hitting other metal. But it was light. Small. Following that, I heard a rough yank and a soft plop as whatever the item was had dropped heavily onto the carpeted floor. An unmistakable hum of a zipper quickly came subsequent to the discarding of the first mystery item—but it was no longer a mystery to me as my sex-clouded mind pieced together what I was hearing. The hands nestled between my thighs slowed at the realization.

Well, Harry’s just changing into his pajamas for the night, right?

My audible x-rated activities bouncing off the walls for several minutes whilst my roommate innocently removed his pants next door…maybe I was overthinking this…I remembered calling out our "goodnight"'s to each other around 10 minutes before I slipped out of my panties and began to shamelessly pleasure myself. He was still in his business-y work clothes when I left him in the living room…and I knew I just heard his bedroom door click shut in the middle of my alone time. And at that point, Harry was right there. He was just trying to unwind, yet happened to be in the room adjacent to mine. It was probably too awkward for him to ask for me to quiet down.

Poor guy…ugh. I was disgusted with myself. I felt I needed to end my “session” right there, and

I was mentally preparing a nice apology text to send him. There was no way in hell I'd bring this up in person to Harry the following day. Surely I’d be in tears before I could even form the right words. I didn’t even want to imagine the scenario of Harry, himself, mentioning it to my face. Every possible, horrible consequence of my selfishly lewd deeds played out in my mind. There I was, lying there with my knees bent up and spread wide open—my fingers frozen against where I'm most sensitive. The silence made the throbbing in my clit feel even more desperate.

And then Harry flicked his white-noise machine on.

Oh, God…This was so embarrassing.

I wanted to sink into a black hole and never be seen, nor heard, ever again. The severity of the situation felt devastating to me. Was I truly so grotesque that the beautiful man I lived with had to tune me out with the highest setting of his old, rattly sleep machine?!

Hell, I was more than embarrassed, I was fucking humiliated. For real, this time. And it was all my fault.

I just wanted to disappear.

But just as I was readying myself to book a flight back home to move back in with my parents to spare myself from ever having to look Harry in the eye again…

I heard it.

I heard him.

“…Mmmhh…”

Beyond the hum of the wimpy white noise, there was a raspy moan on the other side of the wall. I thought I was just imagining it, or that maybe it was Harry quietly retching in disgust, but then it happened again.

No, yeah. It was definitely a moan.

I held my breath as I focused upon the sound of an abrupt curse followed by the distinctive sound of spitting.

“...Ahhh, fuck—”

*ptuh*

The grunting and other lewd noises continued. I could only imagine Harry’s tightened fist, wet from his own drool, working diligently at his neglected cock.

“...Mm…h-hm…ugghhh…”

It seemed like Harry's white-noise machine had some impressive competition. My lips curved into a smirk and my embarrassment exponentially subsided.

His growls vibrated right through the layers of paint and drywall—sliding their way under my shirt, swirling around my perked nipples before bolting straight down to my fingertips, coaxing them to push deeper into my heat. Squeezing my thighs together and arching my back, I curled those digits and gasped out audibly. Feminine arousal leaked from my center and down the crease where my ass met my thighs. Everything was so slippery. I’d made a mess of myself within seconds. Not to mention, the pornographic squelch of my fingers echoed shamelessly beyond the slick walls of my cunt.

If Harry’s spit-covered palm was loud enough to hear over the white noise, then I knew the splashy reservoir between my legs was audible too.

Another series of grunts and huffs sounded beyond the wall behind me and the white noise machine was switched off. I retracted my fingers and slid them up and down my slit, teasing myself and picturing Harry rubbing the head of his dick along my entrance. My brow pinched hedonistic agony. Oh, God, did I want him inside me…I needed something…anything…

With my less-saturated hand, I reached over to open my bedside drawer and lifted the lower compartment to retrieve the silk satchel that encased my dildo. My sticky-slick fingers fumbled impatiently with the ties until the toy comically launched out of the bag and bounced itself smack down onto the inside of my splayed thigh. I could just picture Harry laughing at my lack of grace even though he was busy with his own deeds next door. The thought of Harry teasing me about the dildo made me blush a bit, and I smiled to myself, imagining his hand reaching out to brush my hair out of my face, his pupils dilating as he’d sit on his knees next to the bed and lean over me until his lips grazed my ear…

Be a good girl and show me what filthy things you do with this, Bunny…Show me where it goes…Show me how you fuck yourself…

I hadn’t realized I’d done it again. I’d gotten lost in that depraved little world of mine, and I whimpered aloud in response to the Imaginary Harry who was speaking in my fantasy, “Y-you want me to fuck my pussy for you, Daddy?” Maybe it was the Imaginary Harry again, but I could’ve sworn that I heard a silky British voice nearby react, “Goddd…dammit, Bun’…Ugh, fuuuck, yes. Fuck that sweet little pussy f’me, baby, holy shit…”

Laying back down, I brought the silicone cock up to my lips and sucked it into my mouth. I slowly bobbed my head on it and soaked it with my saliva after deepthroating it several times. The sloppy blowjob I gave to my dildo seemed to have been loud enough to be heard by Harry next door, as he voiced out, “Oh my god, Y/N…I wanna fuck that pretty mouth.”

I pulled it away from my tongue, a string of drool dripping from the tip, and rubbed the head of the toy against my sensitive clit whilst I responded, bringing me right back to where I needed to be.

“Mmhh, but you can’t put a baby in me that way, Daddy.”

My own eyes widened and I gasped. I couldn’t believe I’d actually fucking said that.

“Shit! Ughh…Ahh…Ughhhh…Fuck you, Bunny…Almost made me…c-come…Christ—Ohhh, fuck me…”

With my free hand, I sucked on my index finger and let my eyes flutter closed as I pulled it out from my lips, trailing it down my neck, all the way to my breasts. Groping myself as best as I could with the rest of my hand, I used my forefinger to tease my nipple whilst the dildo swirled and swiped around my slickened slit. My breathing picked up quickly. The dildo had eventually disappeared inside my clenching hole. The only audible sounds I remember hearing were those of my own—my high-pitched gasps, the pornographic swishing and squelching of the dildo fucking my drenched cunt, the wet flicking noises of my fingers moving rapidly against my clit…I don’t even remember how loud Harry was at that point, I was too focused on my fantasy—my fantasy with him—to notice. I was so focused, in fact, that I had once again lost all sense of self-control and consciousness, succumbing to whatever had come naturally to me at the time and practically singing out my song of ecstasy for the whole goddamn neighborhood.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…Harry, please. I need your cum…Oh, god, please come inside me. Fuck all your cum d-dee–oh g…–ah! Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!”

As I begged for my climax, Harry seemed to have been on the edge of his orgasm as well.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna kill me, Y/N…You want me to fill you up? Be my little breeding bunny? God…You dirty girl…Fuuuck…oh fuck, I’m gonna come…”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy! I can take it! Please! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Aaahhh!”

I unraveled with a squeak followed by a series of breathless sobs, my hands, wrists, and arms working frantically and my eyes rolled back whilst the kaleidoscope of pleasure poured through my body. Immediately after my explosion, I collapsed like a ragdoll with the dildo slowly pushing out of me, and my fingers slipping around on my clit to prolong my high. As my breathing recovered, I listened to the tail-end of the orgasm taking place from Harry’s side of the wall.

“Holy shit…Fucking take all of it f’me, babe—ohhhh, yeah…uhh-uuggh…mmhh…hm…Damnit…’So much…I wish all this was inside you, Bunny…fucking hell…”

I’d slept like a rock once I finally passed out. I wasn’t even worried about what would come the next morning. Nah, I had the upper hand on this one for once. As a bratty submissive, I’d gotten used to being teased and controlled. What an interesting feeling to exist on the other side. God, it felt fucking fantastic. Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn’t as confident…or at least that was what I’d been able to interpret in the days following. Nights after the first one, I’d carry on fucking my cunt until I was physically too exhausted to move my pretty little hands anymore. I swear I’d heard Harry finish at least thrice in one night once. (Impressive, Styles.) As for myself…well, I usually lost count.

That first morning, I awoke with sore arms, a rogue dildo laying on the floor, my limbs tangled inside my sheets, yet a ridiculous smile was perma-glued onto my sleepy, orgasm-spent face. I tried my best to tone it down, as I didn’t want to prance around the house like I’d just risen from a deep sleep induced by a gazillion-and-one pulsating firecrackers of pleasure. Too obvious, you know? Had to act nonchalant. Unbothered.

Who was I kidding—I was the most chalant person I knew. Harry would see right through that charade. But there honestly wasn’t much need for pretending on my part since Harry had actively avoided any and all eye contact with me anyway. I’d never seen the man be so meek. It was truly a sight.

Things would eventually loosen up as the days progressed, especially if it was a work day which meant Harry had an excuse to be miles away from me for several hours. It was somewhat of a bummer because I thoroughly enjoyed this sampling of power I newly held over the man. I reveled in the way our typical roles would reverse the mornings after our little bedtime serenades. They weren’t a nightly occurrence, as I preferred to keep him on his toes; however, they’d happen often enough that I tended to daydream in the middle of my work meetings. I’d even begun to retreat to my bedroom an hour or so earlier in the evenings, giving Harry some lame excuse like tiredness or a headache. In reality, it was me signaling that I needed to get myself off sooner rather than later. Whenever I’d announce my departure, I could feel how much he’d been aching for it all day, too. Harry eventually utilized the same approach to speed up the fulfillment of his own needs. I’d changed up my tempo, my method of pleasure, the filth of my words, even my own positions whilst touching myself. It seemed like it had become almost like a routine for him to wait for me to fall into bed late in the evening. (Yet another one for me to be distracted by…)

Nothing’s changed. I still imagine that he patiently lays atop his soft duvet with an anxious throb booming against his eardrums…That minutes will go by with him training his ear to follow each soft pad of my feet. And then I shut my door. I waste no time before diving my pretty fingers inside the waistband of my underwear and playing with my sensitive little petal—allowing all the filth to freely escape my lips. And every single time we do this, I’m in my room picturing him naked from the waist down, one hand eagerly pumping his dripping length whilst the other massages his balls and perineum. To this day, the waves of simultaneous pleasure are still trapped only by the few measly layers of drywall that stand in between us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know, I know…it’s been a while…but I’m back:-) and this isn’t the end of Harry’s Home—the final part is basically finished, but I wanted to post this chunk of it since I’d been kind of neglecting my account for months now. I hope y’all like it! Xoxo ~ Régan 💋

Tags: @daphnesutton @victoria-styles @pishhhh20989 @heyyyloverr @youdontcaredoyou @jerseygirlinca

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jeanboyjean · 5 months

Text

and i - ft. jean kirstein

summary: jean (successfully) tries to make you feel better after a recent breakup

content: friends to lovers, fluff, good vibes, jean brainrot to the max, modern au, college au

a/n: for @honeybleed 90s/00s rnb event!! <3 jean fluff hehehe bc i can't get him out of my brain and he is THE comfort character. inspired by and i - ciara. i love this song big time ♡ laughed so hard watching the music video when she brought out the horse lmaooo 🤔 for my fellow jean girlies!!!

1.2k words

"ugh, i hate him," you grumble, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh.

jean glances at you, concern etched on his face. "what now?" he asks, taking a seat beside you.

crossing your arms, you slump into the cushions. "he just posted a picture of him with that girl. what a fucking asshole."

jean clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "why are you still on his profile? you need to forget about him."

with a frustrated sigh, you shut off your phone. it’s been a few weeks since you ended things with your ex, a decision long overdue. the relationship had lost what little spark had been there in the first place, dragging on for as long as the two of you would let it. the final straw had been when you had found the sexts he had sent to a girl in one of his classes. it stings and it sucks but more than anything, your pride is wounded. the sadistic part of you can’t resist the urge to keep tabs on him and wallow in resentment.

"i have forgotten about him," you say defiantly. "he's just unfortunately like the gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe."

jean lets out a low chuckle. his hands fall to his thighs as he pushes up off the couch. "okay, you know what. let's go for a drive."

curiosity flickers in your eyes as you look up at him, wondering where this is going.

"come on, let's go," he urges, reaching forward to grab your hand. you let him pull you to your feet.

"alright, fine. but you're shouting me coffee," you tell him with a roll of your eyes, a small smile winning over.

"always," he winks in return with a mischievous lift to his lips.

the music blares as you drive, jean tapping his fingers along to the beat. you hum along, watching the scenery pass by with your window down, letting the cool air blow away your tension. the recent events start to fade away and your mind wanders back to your first break up a couple years ago during your first year of university. jean had been there then too, holding you as you had cried and simmered, until you were ready to put yourself back together.

he had refused to let you mope around, forcing you to go out with him to movies and parties and bars. he had been the one to listen to your problems as you poured your heart out, making his shoulders your personal dumping ground. jean had been there for you through it all.

you deserve someone who loves all of you. the words he had said to you back then, ring clear in your mind.

there has always been an underlying tension between you two, a quiet undercurrent that flows beneath the surface of your friendship. from the moment you first saw him, standing across the room at a party in first year, his presence has captured your attention drawing you to him like a magnet. you had become fast friends, sharing everything together from your classes, to your interests, to your deepest darkest secrets.

part of you wonders if he’s ever felt the same way. sometimes you wonder what it would be like if you had found the courage to tell him your feelings, but now you’re in too deep, the confines of your friendship too strong. all this time, you’re pining after him while trying to fill the void with other people, only to be crushed over and over. dreams of making a move dance in your mind, but the fear of jeopardising your friendship holds you back. you’re happy this way, if only because it means you can have him in your life. you’ve sealed these thoughts away in your heart and thrown away the key.

jean's hand lifts from the steering wheel to turn down the music. "what are you thinking about?" he asks.

you cross your arms to hug yourself. "why is it so hard to find someone? am I just destined to be forever alone?"

he flicks your knee teasingly. "maybe you're looking in the wrong places." he turns his head briefly to meet your eyes. “plus, how can you be forever alone when you have me."

you roll your eyes and poke his shoulder before turning away. “yeah, and where should I be looking then?”

he pulls into the car park in front of your favourite coffee shop, shutting off the car and turning to you. he stills for a moment and takes a deep breath, letting it sit for a moment before releasing. a hand pulls through his hair, coming to rest on the back of his neck. "why not me?" he asks, turning to face you.

your eyes narrow at his words. "don't play around, jean."

"nah, I'm serious," he says. there's a hint of uncertainty in his voice but his gaze is unwavering. "you know I would do anything for you."

you freeze, chest tightening, feeling the air being sucked out of the car. you hear his words but they don't register, refusing to sink in. the sincerity in his words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. in the quiet, jean's confession lingers like a promise. you want to believe him, to let go of the fear that consumes you but you can't help but hold back.

you shake your head, uncertain of the implications. you’ve both said things like this to each other before, never ones to hold back on sentiment, but something about them today carry a weight you can’t ignore.

"but aren't we friends? i don't want to ruin what we have."

he reaches for your hand across the centre console, his fingers intertwining with yours. his thumb brushes against your skin, sending tingles up your arm. “i would never let anything ruin what we have,” he says, his eyes never leaving yours, gaze tender but firm. “i've wanted to say this for a long time."

with his free hand, he cups your cheek and leans in, brushing your hair aside. "i could have everything in the world, but I would sacrifice it all for you. stop wasting your time with these losers.”

your heart pounds, breath catching in your throat. slowly, you allow yourself to acknowledge the feelings that have lingered beneath the surface. "jean..." you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.

"please. let me show you."

his lips meet yours, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. the world disappears, leaving only the two of you. it feels like a dream as he pulls you in, your chest flush against his. your fingers comb through his hair, your heart thumping in your chest.

everything about him overwhelms you. his scent, the way his hair feels between your fingers. and the softness of his lips, gentle and warm against your own.

his hands slide from where they’re tangled in your own hair down to hold your arms, squeezing lightly. he pulls back, his eyes searching yours. the moment hangs in the air, the intensity heavy between you.

"are you okay with this?" he asks, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

you nod. a smile stretches across your cheeks as you look up at jean, whose expression mirrors yours.

it’s more than okay. it’s everything.

you let yourself fall into the moment, unlocking the key to your heart, letting yourself want him. hope flickers in you, anticipation for what this could mean. you finally reach for the love that has always wanted to reveal itself. and this time, it feels real.

#jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #attack on titan #jean kirschtien #jean x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth #aot #aot x reader

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criminalskies · 7 months

Note

hello hello icon, love your writing, hope your doing good today!! 🩷

if you're taking requests do you think you could write something that gives "my big fat greek wedding" where the reader is bringing hotch over to meet their family and while reader has been warning him that their family is kinda crazy it's not til the night of, that hotch really gets it because hes just watching reader get more overwhelmed throughout the night while they drag him through all the introductions and dodge every plate of food and little mean comments from cousins. I just feel like he'd be so good about pulling reader away for a sec and comforting them through the loving chaos that is a huge and wild family and being like "yeah still love you tho". also like change whatever you want, do whatever bestie xx

Hi lovely anon! I must apologise rq for this taking me A CENTURY to write. I hope you're still there to read this <3 Aaron hotchner x GN!Reader. 5.4k words. warnings: mentions of testicular injury. your aunt is kiiiiiiind of a pervert, but just longing stares. No copping a feel. mentions of alcohol. that should be it! please enjoy!

Since working at the BAU, you have tried awfully hard to keep your biological family and your work family separate. You’ve successfully intercepted every one of your aunt’s offerings to surprise you with food at your office (and three to five of your younger cousins in-tow). You’ve successfully kept your loving parents from appearing at the doors of the BAU with over exaggerations of just how classified and gruesome your work is, no civilians past the front doors of Quantico, etc. You thank all the layers of misrepresentation of FBI work in the media for getting away with that one.

It’s been hard work, ten months of intercepting family group texts and abating their offers to bring you food with pictures of your home-cooked meals sent no less than three times a day. You’ve had to recycle a lot of the same photos to cover up your habit of buying takeout after a long day, but they don’t seem to have noticed. So far, it’s all been worth it. You’ve successfully convinced your coworkers that you’re a perfectly normal FBI agent with a perfectly normal family. It’s even worked on the one person you have most hoped to impress, your boss. SSA Aaron Hotchner. It has been even harder work convincing your family to steer clear of your apartment whenever he’s over and the biggest effort of all has been getting out of your family’s weekly Sunday Dinner. Which is in reality a twelve hour event. You’ve only had a few lazy Sunday dates with Aaron, but they have been some of your favorites. Shed of his suit and tie, you see him let loose of all his usual restraint. You see him relax, and that’s something you wouldn’t trade for anything. So you can take all the quips from your mother, aunts, cousins, nephews and grandfather as long as you have to, to keep your little bubble from bursting.

Aaron seems to believe you have a peaceful, quiet life. You’ve tried very hard to stage your apartment to look like the kind of place someone can read in airy silence on their days off. You want to create that space for your boyfriend, one where he doesn’t have to be ‘bossman’ or ‘SSA’ or even ‘dad’. He can just be Aaron.

Of course, you know each time you’ve been vacuuming or watering your plants, only to hear the agitated scraping of keys in your door, as the heavy footsteps of your nieces and nephews come clambering down the hall to your apartment. Your space quickly floods with the hustle and bustle of your loud, overbearing family. You know one of these days they’ll waltz in uninvited and find you and Aaron curled up in bed, probably giving the poor man a heart attack in the process.

Which is why you’ve decided, after six months together, you know how lucky you’ve been to not be the unsuspecting victims of a thirty person ‘pop-in’. So you’re going to quit while you’re ahead. This illusion is getting exceedingly tiring to uphold and you really suspect your boyfriend, the expert profiler, must have lost his touch if he hasn’t realized there’s more to you than meets the eye.

You’re just going to have to sit poor, sweet, unsuspecting Aaron down Saturday night and ask him about joining you to your family’s place for Sunday dinner. You feel bad for giving him such short notice, but really it is better this way. The less time you have to warn your mother that you’re bringing your boyfriend over, the better. Although, it might take longer than just Sunday to get said boyfriend up to speed.

Saturday night arrives and you’ve been acting completely off. You’ve been so focused on trying to plan your warning speech for Aaron that you spaced out during dinner three times, only realizing when you would notice your boyfriend’s signature head tilt and drawn brows staring back at you across the table. You completely missed him reaching across to hold your hand, and you missed him asking you about coming to Jack’s soccer game Thursday night. The third time, when you’re staring right through Aaron’s shirt as he was filling you in on the interdepartmental FBI gossip, he knows something must be seriously wrong with you tonight to not want to hear about an SSA and a section chief getting caught in a supply closet at the gala for the Seattle field office.

“Okay, that’s it.” Aaron huffs, moving your plate and his from the table to the kitchen counter before he comes to pull your chair back from the table, squatting opposite you now until he’s at your eye level, taking you gently by the shoulders. “What is the matter, angel? You’ve been staring straight through me.” You feel guilt wash over you as you see the concern in Aaron’s eyes, searching yours for any signs of distress.

“Oh- I’m sorry bear I’ve just. I just have something I have to ask you about. But, here, we should go sit down.” You grab Aaron by the hand, pulling him to his feet as you rise from your chair. You see a flash of terror across his face before he can reel in his expression, once again giving you his signature stare that means he’s listening. “No! Don’t stress, it’s nothing awful, just, complicated. Really.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly as you lead him to the couch. He breathes a sigh of relief at hearing you’re not about to break up with him or tell him you’ve fallen in love with his brother or anything drastic.

You sit cross-legged on the couch as Aaron settles into the corner, turned towards you to give you his full attention, his hand still nestled in yours. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth before you spit it out. “I want you to meet my family.”

Aaron’s dimples appear as his face begins pulling into the most unexpected smile and he laughs a puff of air through his nose at your admission.

“That’s it? That’s the thing that had you giving me a thousand yard stare all night?” He asks, unable to conceal his incredulous look.

“Yeah. That’s just the start of this whole speech. There’s a dinner tomorrow at my parent’s place. But it’s no small event, Aaron. My family is kind of a lot, in every way imaginable or otherwise.” Now it’s Aaron who tries reassuring you, shifting you to melt against his side on the couch as his arm wraps around your tense shoulders.

“Angel, if they played any part in making you who you are, I would love to meet them.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple now.

“Okay. Well, for my own safety of mind I’m going to issue you some forewarnings so you’re at least prepared for some of the insanity. You ready?” You turn to look him in the eyes as you ask him.

“I’m ready, love.” You admire his bravery, really. You know he’s a seasoned FBI agent having worked in Seattle, Quantico, coming face to face with serial killers and people who would have turned his face into some kind of mask or couch upholstery if they had the chance. Still, you can’t help but worry at how badly he seems to be underestimating this situation.

You pull out a framed family tree from the back of your home study, watching the blood slowly drain from Aaron’s face when he realizes there are close to 65 names being mentioned as people who will be at dinner tomorrow to meet him. You warn him in particular about your uncles Ronnie and Tommy. You know how they treat new partners in this family. Ronnie will challenge Aaron to a friendly little wrestling match, hoping to pin him in thirty seconds and make sure he knows he’s not the toughest guy around. Meanwhile, Tommy is trying to talk Aaron out of wrestling Ronnie, to see how easily coerced your poor boyfriend may be. These are crucial moments for Aaron to demonstrate that he’s not macho to a fault, nor is he easy to intimidate.

Next, your Aunt Rita. She will eat him whole if she’s given the chance, you know how little self control she has around any man you bring home, let alone one that’s tall dark and handsome, and an FBI agent at that. You warn him not to hold Rita’s hand, no matter how many times she tries to offer it, because she has a grip like gorilla glue and won’t let him go again. If he ever starts to dance tomorrow night. He is to move away from her at. All. costs. She will shamelessly grind on his thigh after just a few drinks.

You warn him about your grandmama, how she thinks she’s twenty years younger and can still go up and down the stairs on her own. If he sees her dawdling away, just take her elbow and guide her back. You have no doubts about Aaron here, though, knowing he’s ever the gentleman and would never let his guard down, allowing your 98 year old great grandmother to wander out of the house’s side gate or into the dog’s kennel alone.

Lastly. Your second cousins. There’s the quadruplets, who you think should really be kept on leads, there’s Charlie, who’s genuinely known to bite strangers, Angie, who is smart as a whip and will do everything in her power to make your new boyfriend feel stupid. There’s Davie and Ruby, who like pulling off ‘pranks’, only they seem to be mistaken that the crucial element of a prank is that it’s deceptive AND funny. See, they think slipping a little roast beef into a stranger’s back pocket is the height of comedy. They’re especially into using tripwires or pretending to be floating around face-down in the pool for someone to dive in and rescue them.

By the end of your long list of precautionary tales, Aaron feels like he’s studying for the bar exam, he’s memorized the names of almost all your immediate relatives, and the rest he’ll have to figure out as he goes. He knows which aunts will be offended by him not taking a heaped portion of their provided dishes, and he knows which uncles will try to feed him enough beers to take down a moose. He’s as ready as he can be, and the more he focuses on what you’re telling him, the more you start to recognise the look in his eye, it’s the same look you always see whenever he’s about to enter a maximum security prison. Knowing that inmates will try to belittle him or lure him towards them, knowing he’s like a bucket of chum floating just out of reach of shark infested waters. But surely if he’s survived every one of those encounters before, your family won’t be the thing to break him… right?

The two of you settle down that night to watch a movie, and you are especially doting to your beautiful kindhearted boyfriend, trying to make sure he’ll remember how lovely and caring you are to him, even if he’s soon to realize you were essentially raised by a pack of wolves. When you offer to make him a cup of tea for the fourth time, he sighs and drags your lying form over his on the couch, essentially caging you in his arms.

“Angel. You have to stop.” Aaron says, in a matter-of-fact way that makes you believe you have no choice in the matter. “Stop apologizing to me for something that hasn’t even happened yet. However crazy, however loud, however boisterous or blunt your family is, I will leave there loving you just as much. Probably even more, given the way things have been trending lately. Okay?” He moves a hand to your cheek now, caressing it as his soft eyes try to reason with your worried ones, he looks so perfect under the warm lamplight. He has been the perfect boyfriend so far. Maybe, just maybe, he can handle your family and everything that comes with it.

“Okay, bear.” You close your eyes, burying your face in his chest and letting his steady heartbeat lure your own racing heart back into a healthy rhythm, as his hand finds its home against the crown of your head.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

You spent the next day like you’ve spent most Sundays of your life, preparing enough food to sink the titanic. Okay, poor example. Enough food to feed your entire clan, perhaps. Aaron is nothing short of adorable as he swans around helping you, it is very nice not doing this alone, you have to admit. Having him chop and prepare the extra vegetables while you’re able to watch the sauce in the pot so for once you don’t end up with half of the flavor firmly stuck to the base, having to strain out the lumps right before you go to leave. Aaron even insists that he has all the bases covered, ushering you into your bedroom to please shower and get dressed so you’re not late. It occurs to you then that not only is he not scared of your family, he actually wants to make a good impression on them.

The two of you make it into the car, only six foil trays of food and a tart for dessert in hand, with time to spare. Aaron parks the car just down the street and turns off the engine, turning to see you chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you insist you’re sweating due to the piping hot lasagne in your lap, nothing to do with nerves. A large hand reaches over the console to gently take your own, bringing it towards his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart. Really.” He says, bringing your hand back into the space between you both, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I know. You can handle serial killers and talking down people with bombs strapped to their chests. I’m sure my cousin's threats of throwing whipped cream at you from off the top balcony will pale in comparison.” You breathe out. “Let’s go, love.”

The two of you have barely made it through the front gate before you’re met with two familiar faces, your second cousins ‘guarding’ the front door with waterguns aimed at Aaron and yourself.

“Password!” Davie barks.

“Davie. Ruby. You guys keep getting taller, huh?” You try buttering them up while you think of what a five and seven year old would consider a worthy password for your family home.

“Really? Ya think so? Ruby asks with a bright smile, more gaps than there are teeth showing. You know she’s not the mastermind of their evil plans, it’s Davie that has to coerce her into helping him.

“Oh boy, do I!” You add, laying it on thick while Davie approaches Aaron, his brows drawn tightly together.

“You’re new. He’s new?” He turns to you, pointing at Aaron with a rather displeased look in his tiny face.

“Davie, meet Aaron. Aaron is my boyfriend.” You say puling your intertwined hands into view of the little ones, where Ruby responds with a vehement “ewwwwww!”

“COOTIES!” Davie yells, the two of them running back around the side of the house, of course off to tell their parents the news off this imminent cooties outbreak.

“That was a fantastic start. So far I’ve gotten one very passionate ‘ewwwwww!’ “ Aaron chuckles, squeezing your hand before he picks up the trays of food once more, carrying on into the house.

You can hear the rabble from the back rooms of the house bouncing around and echoing out of the open door, your mother’s uncontrollable laughter cutting through the cacophony as Aaron’s dimple appears on his cheek. She sounds just like you when you give off a real, genuine laugh. One that bubbles out of you, throwing your head back and grabbing at your stomach as tears spring from your eyes. Aaron loves that sound. You don’t see him beaming at you from the corner of your eye line.

You made it not quite three feet into the hallway before Aunt Rita’s speed walking towards you both, margarita in hand already threatening to spill and dinner has not yet begun.

“Here’s our happy couple!” she all but yells, turning her head to announce “I found em!” back down the hall as she moves to engulf you in a hug. “Y/N, it’s been so long!” Rita holds you, trapped there in the hug as she’s no doubt raking her eyes over Aaron’s form behind you.

“Aunty, I only saw you two Sundays ago.” You remind her politely, knowing that in this household that qualifies as half a lifetime.

“I know, baby, faaar too long.” She finally releases you from her grasp as you quickly step back, half-blocking Aaron from her reach.

“This is my boyfriend, Aaron.” You wrap a hand around his arm, holding onto him like a lifeline as you pray Rita will find it in herself to leave him alone.

“The FBI Agent!! Woooooow, sugar, we’ve been hearing so much about you lately. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister F-B-I.” Rita moves her glass to her other hand, offering her wrist to Aaron as she bats her eyelashes. Shameless woman. Luckily, Aaron being a perfect gentleman, well versed in abating old ladies, he takes her hand rather briskly, placing a barely there kiss on her hand and relinquishing it back to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, ma’am.” Aaron offers a tight lipped smile, careful to keep his dimple levels in check. You warned him that one of your exes was practically pulled by his cheek to meet the rest of the family when Rita spotted his dimple on show.

“MA’AM?! Ugh, now you’re just making me feel ancient, Sugar. Please. Call me Rita.” She shoves Aaron’s chest, her hand lingering a moment longer than you’d really like it to, but your boyfriend has enough humility to ‘stumble’ back slightly at the push.

“Of course, Rita. My mistake.” Poor Aaron’s hands must be burning holding the tin foil trays in his palm this long, luckily Rita moves out of the way, standing to the side and most definitely eyeing your boyfriend’s ass as he walks away, you walk behind him, shielding him from her wandering eyes. You feel terrible that he’s been here all of two minutes and he’s already been ewwwww’ed at and now treated like a piece of meat. Heaven help you.

“Y/N! Come here, my baby!” Your mother swans out of the kitchen, your breath catches at the sight of her apron, a curvy bikini model body drawn over the fabric, with a KISS THE COOK! Tattoo and lipstick marks all over the model’s skin. Classy. Very classy. Your mother plants a sticky lipglossed kiss on each of your cheeks, hugging tightly around your neck before turning to Aaron. She takes the trays from his scalding hands and places them on the counter before opening her arms to him with a smile. “This must be Aaron! I’m Y/M/N.” She pulls him into a tight hug, his tall frame bending down to get his arms around her shoulders as his cheeks receive two somehow equally sticky kisses.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/L/N. I’ve heard so much about y-” Aaron’s cut off by a football flying between his face and your mother’s and colliding with the refrigerator. You all turn just in time to see your uncles all whiz around, suddenly very focused on the patch of dead grass in the back corner of the yard.

“Boys! Excuse me Aaron, we’ll pick this up again.” Your mother saunters out of the back door, waving a meat tenderiser in the air, you choose not to hear the string of expletives currently gracing the ears of everyone in a three mile radius. Instead, turning to greet your other, better behaved aunties and older cousins all gathered in the kitchen, a pasta-making train formed by seven pairs of hands. You’re informed that your folding skills are needed to finish off the agnolotti.

You’re eternally grateful to your two eldest cousins, who offer to get Aaron a drink and secure him a seat in the corner of the dining room, far from Rita who keeps walking by sucking cherries from the punch between her teeth as she eyes your boyfriend. He seems to be blissfully pretending he can’t see her, instead engaging most of your cousins in conversations about what exactly profiling even is. You hear the usual wave of ‘wow’s and ‘ahh’s washing over the building crowd when Aaron is able to tell that your uncle Scooter is planning to move to the coast and retire this year.

Once dinner is finally ready and being served on the porch, you and Aaron are able to grab some plates, only to find that the last seats left are right between your two most testy uncles. You sit Aaron next to Tommy, hoping he can withstand the mental games, instead of Vinnie’s prodding at his masculinity. From what you hear, it sounds like Aaron is able to effectively corner Tommy, using his own logic against him without sounding too callous about it. You smile to yourself while you dig into your potato salad, how you’ve managed to get this lucky with Aaron, you’ll never know.

Before dinner is over, however, your dad comes walking, suitcase in hand around the side of the house, having returned from his work trip overseas, the crowd erupts with a cheer when he reveals he has brought home as much spiced rum from the duty free stores at the airport as he could legally purchase at once. Scooter races inside to bring out some tumblers of ice for all those old enough to drink. Aaron stays seated at your side while you hug your father hello, and start a fond conversation with him. Aaron’s always heard you talk fondly of your dad, a calm voice in a sea of abrupt, booming family members.

He sees you gesturing towards him, smiling warmly while you talk with your father and Aaron’s never been much of a lip reader, but he does see your dad pull you into another big hug after he asks something with the word happy. A fluttery feeling spreads through Aaron’s chest as he watches you, thinking about how happy he is with you, as well.

His bubble of warmth is quickly burst when Vinnie marches up to Aaron, a hand slapping down over his clothed shoulder as he asks why he’s not drinking any rum.

“You some kind of mormon or something? Or an addict?” Vinnie asks, not very delicately.

“No. Neither.” Aaron keeps his tone friendly and measured. Vinnie wants an argument, wants a fight. He’s not going to give it to him.

“Come get a drink with me, then. Ay Ay Ron.” Vinnie pulls him by his sleeve as Aaron carefully discards his plate on his seat, checking the dogs are safely secured away from all the food.

You turn, seeing Aaron’s interrogation-proofed stare as Vinnie pours at least four standard drinks into the glass, offering it to him with a smirk. Aaron takes it with a thank you, ever so polite. He’s hoping to pour some of it out, you’re sure. But Vinnie is refusing to take his eyes off of the man as Tommy rounds Aaron’s other shoulder, an equally evil smirk on his face. Your cousins call everyone’s attention to the lawn by the side of the house, announcing they’ll be playing a football game in five minutes!

“So down your desserts and get your game faces on!” one of the quadruplets booms, you never can tell which one is which. Not that it tends to matter since they mostly move in a huddle. Your younger cousins and second cousins all erupt into cheers and chants, running to grab one last slice of cake and ice cream before their game starts. Your dad goes off to greet the rest of your siblings and you cross the lawn, growling children whizzing past your legs as you try not to kick any of them over. You meet Aaron, putting yourself between him and Vinnie, seeing Aaron’s nervous sipping of his drink has left him with just one finger of rum left in the tall glass. Oh dear. You’re glad he can hold his liquor as his arm wraps around your waist, holding onto you like a lifeline as Tommy continues his rant about how government workers are overpaid for their work and the FBI has more coverups than it has investigations these days.

Luckily, your father cuts his brothers incessant yammering off, holding out a hand to shake Aaron’s, asking if he can pick his profiling brain for a moment about something. You see Aaron release a tiny breath of relief, following your father into the house. You take the opportunity now to smack each of your uncles on the shoulders.

“Please behave, you two. I like this one. Please, you’ll have a hundred more chances to interrogate him if you don’t scare him off tonight. Just, tone it down. I know asking you to stop is pointless. But please. As your favorite brother’s favorite child, I’m begging.” You plead with them both to stop just short of sending Aaron barreling into his shell he wears at work. You don’t want him being in his unsub-defense mode every time he walks into your home. You’re met with two grunts of acknowledgement, and you set off in search of some better company.

The football game starts up fair enough, two teams of kids playing only semi-gently against their relatives. The score is 3-2 when Aaron and your father emerge from the den, your dad’s arm around the man's shoulder, dragging him with a smile on his face to get some more rum. Luckily, your dad has the civility to let him pour his own drink, however he pleases. They find a spot in the crowd, watching the game as Aaron settles into your side, eyes searching yours to find you doing the same. You both have a shy laugh and turn to watch the game, happy to see that the other is okay.

You engage in some more quiet conversation in your corner of the field until Davie gets a little overexcited, kicking the ball far too hard after he scored his touchdown and you watch in slow motion as poor sweet Aaron is barely able to remove his hand from yours before the wad of leather and lace collides brutally with his crotch, and his knees buckle, hands coming to hold his crown jewels as he bites his lips hard to hold in a loud cry. It takes every ounce of self control in his body to keep himself even partially upright, wanting very badly to curl into the fetal position to nurse his burning balls.

“Oh my god! Aaron, are you okay?!” He manages a weak nod, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he manually forces himself to continue breathing. “I’m gonna get you some ice! Wait there! Or, well. I’ll be back!” You turn towards the kitchen, where you spy Davie’s toothy grin, receiving a crisp $20 bill from Vinnie. You are so going to pour that man’s precious rum down his favorite shirt the moment Aaron is able to breathe naturally again. You rush to grab some ice, filling a zip-loc bag and sprinting back out to where Rita is sitting, holding Aaron’s hand tightly in hers, fanning him with her hand-fan as the redness in his neck only spreads upwards towards his ears.

You stand before him, holding his face in your hand as you place the bag of ice in his hand. He can freeze his own nuts, you’re sure he doesn’t need you dropping the rock hard ice into his lap. He finally opens his eyes, looking up at you with a rather strained look on his face. You bend down to place a kiss on his forehead, silently thanking him for being the most patient man on the face of the earth.

Rita luckily has the grace to leave you two alone now, freeing up the seat next to Aaron which you take, brushing his hair back from where it now sticks to his forehead.

“Thank you for being the best boyfriend in the world. I am so, so, so sorry this is such a mess I… Aaron?” His brows draw closer and closer as you’re talking, his eyes focused on the darkness beside the house as you try to trace his line of sight. Without a word, he springs up, ice falling to the grass as he runs around the house, looking like he really ought to have his torch and gun out, this is his ‘calculated emergencies only’ run. You trot after him, rounding the corner of the house just in time to see him catch your grandmama by her shoulders before she steps into the busy street, cars whizzing past as she blinks at your boyfriend, and he turns her on her feet to come back around the house.

You take her by the shoulders as Aaron locks the gate this time, and you feel your eyes welling with tears at how wonderful a man you’ve found. One that will chase your great grandmother without hesitation, not a thought spared for his already tenderized family jewels which are no doubt screaming at him to sit back down. You come face to face with most of your extended family, who all ran after you both to see what all the commotion was about, and your mother rushes over to take your grandmama into her arms, thanking Aaron profusely as she turns to take the matriarch of the family to bed.

You take your moment, as the family all turn around, following the pair back into the house. You wrap your arms tightly around Aaron, breathing a shaky breath as his arms wrap around you just as tight. You move yourself up to give him a kiss, body pressed against his as he responds with a whimper in the back of his throat and you jump back, realizing you’d pinned his poor traumatized package between you.

“Sorry! Sorry.” He cuts you off with a bruising kiss, bodies now a safe distance apart as he takes his chance to kiss you the way he’s wanted to for over an hour now. Ever since he spoke to your dad, and learned just how highly you’d been speaking of your beloved boyfriend all these months.

“Don’t be sorry, angel. I love you, your big, crazy family and all. I love all of you. So, please, stop apologizing, because I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He thumbs the tear from your eyes, whether they’re from the adrenaline of almost seeing your beloved grandmother struck by a car, or from the tenderness of this moment, he isn’t sure. But either way, he’s handled serial killers, rapists, arsonists, shooters, bombers, and now your cousin Davie’s sharp left kick. He will handle everything life throws at him from now on, with an extra spring in his step. Because he has you. Yes, that includes the people who created you.

“That being said, I really need to lie down. I had like, four standards in half an hour and although I know you’d love me ball-less, I would really like it if they don’t fall off just yet.” You sniffle a laugh, moving an arm around his waist as you promise to lead him to your childhood bedroom. He can look at every ugly yearbook photo he wants to. He’s even earned the right to read your atrocious love notes you wrote to a celebrity when you were seventeen and convinced he was in love with you. This only seems a fair trade for his black and blue balls he’ll have to waddle into the office with, tomorrow.

tags: @montyfandomlove , @pastanoodles11 , @ssamorganhotchner , @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl , @ssa-tahlia-obsessions , @p0ssywhippedcream , @14buddy22 , @elenamoncada-ibarra , @supercriminalbean , @ssaspenceswife , @levithestripper , @wearenumberonebutitsaurl, @geminitapestry, @bucxkysdoll, @hotchs-big-hands

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yuri-is-online · 1 year

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And Your Name Is? (Malleus and Ace)

Synopsis- After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.

But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.

a/n: The first version of this can be found on my masterlist here (x) . I have been thinking of a million scenarios for each of the boys because I am real attached to this sort of trope and will probably write more in the future.

notes: they/ them pronouns used for Yuu, angst with the intent of comfort. Everyone in this post is a wee bit pathetic but then these two kinda are. The love triangle of all time I tell you /j

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is a king, his rule is absolute and his word commands the reality around him. Literally sometimes, it would appear, as he looks up longingly at the ramshackle window. A shape flickers there, one he has flown to greet many times before. For memories that don’t exactly belong to him they are vivid, the shape and feel of your hand weighs heavy in his as he wills himself to remain on the ground; there is no guarantee the night sky will remain cloud free if he is forced to watch you disappear now. He used to think the thought of a power beyond him laughable, but when he sees you now, this strange colorless void that refuses to fully leave his world, he is almost certain that there must be. There must be some divine force in the world that is punishing him for his hubris in thinking that he could stop the wheel of time; punishing him for refusing to treasure the time he had to spend with you and thinking he could spend your life as he pleased.

It was ironic really, how powerless he felt when you disappeared from view. Like you were the god and he was the child of man groveling at your feet for a chance at salvation. An introspective part of him wonders if this is how his people see him; it is most displeased with how little he cares, all regalia abandoned at the foot of a human that cannot be saved with any magic he can weave.

“Lilia says I should see this as practice for when you are older.” His guardian had decided to be considerate of his feelings when he came to him for advice. If Lilia had been acting only as an advisor, it hurts his heart to think of what he would have said. “I wonder, would you prefer me if I was human? Would this be easier, could I have made you stay?” You do not immediately appear to reassure him, no one does. He supposes no one could, Malleus Draconia is not above wishing for things despite what Sebek might think. A light layer of frost covers the walls of the old mansion, it is becoming harder to focus on the stars. “It is cruel of me to wish to keep you here with me, children of men do not belong trapped in the dark; but what a sight you would be.” He can picture you clearly, time is cruel but this re-set timeline is much crueler. Your face and the sound of your voice are still his to cherish, but he has no pictures or records to refresh his memory when it inevitably begins to fail.

“Tsunotarou?” Yes, the frost begins to retreat as he resigns himself to his grief, that is what your voice sounded like. Someone reaches to touch his face, and to his surprise he allows them. Yes, he takes in a deep breath that goes on for so long it almost hurts him, this is your scent, your appearance filling his vision and blocking the stars from view. “You look so lonely.” And you look so confused, but more importantly you look unafraid as he takes your hands from his face and intertwines your fingers.

“And if I am?” He tries to give you a charming smile, one that he knows will only work on his family and you.

“Then…” you look confused, like you are searching his face and recognizing him but unaware of what you are looking for. “If you are my Tsunotarou, then I wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

“Then stay.” Stay here and keep him company until you are nothing but the dust you were born from and allow him to stay by the side of your grave forevermore.

Ace Trappola

This was unfair. Infuriatingly, ridiculously, beyond merely mildly unfair. Ace had never been more enraged with the way things work at Night Raven College. “The strong bow to the weak” his ass, how many of these housewardens (and Jamil) bowed to you only to dismiss your current status as not their problem? It was their fault, and as far as Ace was concerned they were well beyond needing to take responsibility for their actions. He had no problem telling you as much, pretending the way you were constantly out of his reach was not his problem. That it didn’t bother him to run after you for hours, chasing you down hallways, through the rose maze, anywhere you went Ace Trappola followed. If you were not made of memories and mist it would be just like it was before. You went and he followed, if it would bring you back to life he’d crawl. Riddle had said his behavior was unbefitting of a card soldier. Ace had told him he was one to talk.

And just like that he was back on a couch in Ramshackle, a collar around his neck he swore up and down didn’t belong. But you were not here to see it.

“Honestly, who does Riddle think he is?” He grumbles as if you could respond, sometimes he swears you do. Deuce thinks he is losing his mind, Riddle probably does too. They might be back in the past, but Riddle remembers his mistakes and what little growth he’d squeezed from the stone cold loop of time. He is strict, but seldom tyrannical, if Ace wasn’t in the middle of a spiral he would be willing to acknowledge his housewarden’s willingness to try and help you. “Hey-” the door doesn’t open for you when you appear, Ace doesn’t think you can interact with objects the way a ghost can but that doesn’t stop him from talking to you like you are one. “Bet this looks familiar. Honestly, how many times am I going to have to show up like this before you let me take the bed? I’m super skinny and you’re not- you’re not there.” Memory isn’t like a video Ace can replay, but from the timelines he’s spent chasing after you he is almost certain this shade of yours is simply following an echo of your routine. It has a set path, if he gets too close you will evaporate from view, but still he reaches when you approach, praying that this time his hand will find purchase. “Just what is it you wanna hear huh?” He finds something, cold and slightly wet like this shimmery shape is made of melting ice. “That I didn’t think you would be my type because I already knew you were? That when I said what was really important was finding someone you could laugh with I thought of your face? That I’m a coward who couldn’t reject a girl he didn’t like and who couldn’t face it when he saw what he actually wanted?”

“I want Ace.” He feels it more than hears it, as much as he wants to smile and hide behind himself Ace Trappola is smart enough to know he can’t. Not this time, he has to watch you fill in your outline, eyes unhurried and unfocused but locked solely on him. If he doesn’t watch you come to he will never believe he is looking at you again. “I want to stay with Ace.” Your arms are around his neck pushing him back onto the couch with a thunk and he wraps himself as much around you as he can. “Just what am I going to do with you?” He tries to laugh but between the collar and you it’s hard to breathe, but he can’t bring himself to move. “I guess I’ll have to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Note

hiii it's the domestic lover kappa hc and the "ive never felt that way about anyone" anon 😭😭 after reading the carousel fic you've made me develop a crush on gabe too LMAAOOO umm anyways 🤭 he's such a sweet boy like always trying to do right by you and i just wanna hold him and just reassure him that i'm not going anywhere EEEEEEEE HAHAHAH sorry especially whiny gabe???? id do anything for him idk idk maybe it's just me but i'd love to see your take on this

Dear nonnie, I'm so so so thankful for all your asks! I love and enjoy writing them so much!! ✊🏻😩🫶🏻

Cake

Summary: Whilst holding Gabriel in a close embrace, you force yourself to face some facts…

Pairing: virgin!Gabriel x nurse!fem!Reader

Word Count: -1.1k

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, A Lot Of Emotional Constipation, Kinda Angsty, A Little Bit Of Making Out 18+!,

A/N: I successfully made myself cry over this…my heart is ACHING for Gabe!

Sequel to Carousel!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Your skin is warm like an oven

Your kiss is sugary sweet

Your fingers feel like cotton

When you put your arms around me

I feel like I'm just missing

Something whenever you leave

- Cake By Melanie Martinez

With your fingertips deeply hidden away in Gabriel’s hair, his cheek resting right against your collarbone from where his warm breath breezed over your bare skin, you let your eyes wander through his room. Of course, you’d entered and left it plenty of times in the last 2 years but it slowly dawned on you that you actually never really took close notice of all the little things and trinkets he surrounded himself with.

The wall right next to the door giving way to the corridor was practically plastered with posters of his favorite movies and pictures. Photographs from times long gone, the sun shining brightly into happy faces of an intact family captured on a piece of shiny photography paper. You looked at them, studied them closely one after the other, and with every passing second the reality of your situation settled into your chest. What in the everloving fuck where you doing here? Why was your “patient”, a resident of Ward 4, cozily nestled in between your legs whilst your fingers played with strands of his hair, twirling them around your digits again and again? You’d be royally screwed if someone were to find out about any of it, that much you knew.

“Gabe..?” Your voice was low as you addressed him.

“Hmm?” He hummed back, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast lazily, sending a comfortably warm wash over your skin.

“You gotta promise me that you won’t tell anybody about this…” You felt your voice breaking off as your brain jumped to the necessary cause of you feeling so strongly about it.

There was much more to it than just the fear of losing your job and probably ending up as a juicy headline in the local tabloids for a week or two and by now you had to force yourself to face it.

“Because…”, It left your mouth in a heavy sight, “Because I don’t think I could deal with not seeing you anymore.”

The last thing you’d expected was for Gabe to laugh out at your words. At first, you felt a mean sting of hurt jolting right through your chest but it eased up as soon as Gabriel raised his head from your chest to beam at you with the brightest smile you’d ever seen on his face.

“I promised you already, didn’t I?”, He chuckled softly, slowly pulling himself up to nudge the tip of your nose with his, “Promised you to be a good boy about it, no? Wouldn’t wanna be without you either.”

“Yeah, you did.”, His lips brushed over yours and you smiled against them, feeling how your body rendered hungry for his touch again, “It’s just…I couldn’t…I- I can’t fathom losing you, Gabriel.”

“You won’t, I’ll make sure of that, I promise.” Gabe quipped before pressing his lips to yours, teeth playfully nipping at your bottom lip until you darted your tongue out to push into his mouth.

You allowed his words to settle right in your heart that was thumbing against your ribcage a little faster with every next kiss Gabriel planted to your lips, his tongue now curiously exploring your mouth as well. For a moment, you just pushed everything else to the side and breathed him in, your body craving to soak up as much of him as you possibly could. With Gabriel right above you, it took every last bit of self-control from you to not simply wrap your legs around his hips and pull him into you. One thing after the other, you had to repeat it to yourself in your thoughts over and over again whilst your hands ruffled through his hair, tenderly shaking it out a little for it to fall into his face.

“Can I ask you something?” Gabe reluctantly broke from the kiss to look at you with a slightly watery sparkle in his eyes.

“Sure, of course, angel face.” Right after the words had left your mouth, you felt just how much truth and intention you’d been putting into that seemingly simple pet name of his.

Sweet, sweet Gabriel really had an angel’s face, especially when he smiled at you like this. It made your knees weak and your heart ache for him.

“Do you love me?” He asked carefully and the question itself made time stop for a split second.

You felt your mind short-circuiting for an instant, thoughts crumbling into oblivion as the way his eyes widened in anticipation violently pulled and tugged at your heartstrings. It made an awful lot of sense to you how he asked you first. It was a last-threshold safety measure. That way he could act all indifferent and unfazed in case you were to answer with something he didn’t want to hear. However, you knew that he wouldn’t have to.

“Yeah, I do.” It trickled from your lips in the very same second you could feel your heart breaking apart inside your chest.

You did, you were in love with Gabe but the last shreds of sanity and responsibility revolted as loud and painful as they possibly could.

“You…do?” A tell-tale accumulation of forming tears pooled at his lower lashline, Gabriel wasn’t expecting that for an answer it seemed.

“Uh-huh, I’m afraid I fell head over heels for you, angel face.” On the inside you felt like falling apart, your conscience screaming at you that this ship was bound to sink, that the entire endeavor was doomed from the start with Gabriel being locked up in here and you being his godforsaken nurse.

There wouldn’t be anything good coming out of this, yet you refused to believe that all of it was wrong.

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #gabriel x fem!reader #gabriel 2014 #gabriel x reader #gabriel smut

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

Note

Hi, thank you for your hard work, this blog is amazing and my n.1 source when it comes to good fics!

I was wondering if you could recommend me some longish fics (around 10k-15k words, could be less, could be a bit more, I don't mind), sort of slow burn, with some pining, maybe a bit of oblivious Aziraphale, fluffy stuff. No explicit ones, please!

I've recently read Any Other Name by ignaz, all i need darling is a life in your shape by deadgreeks, and Something to do with these sacred words by Solshine, which were amazing and I highly recommend them, and I was looking for similar stuff.

Sorry if it's a bit of a hard request, I hope you can help me! Thank you <3

Hello! Here are some fluffy pining slow-ish burn non-explicit fics between 10-15k words...

No Picture Can Express by nutmeag83 (T)

Ezra Fell prefers books (and discretely watching the lovely florist down the street) to social media, but takes up the hobby at Madame Tracy's urging. Anthony Crowley has been pining after his neighbor for ages, happy to keep his distance until Ezra asks him to tutor him in using Instagram. They find they have more in common than just having shops on the same block in Soho.

Plant-Based Customs by junkshopdisco (T)

A Christmas Fiction. In Prose. Being a Story of Christmas & Why An Angel Should Learn More About Mistletoe Than Whether Or Not To Put It On Pizza.

Or: five times Crowley tried to get Aziraphale to kiss him under the mistletoe and one time he didn’t bother.

where the lights burn low and you're only mine by hopelessromantic549 (T)

For the most part, Aziraphale sees himself as a rational angel who follows a consistent moral code. That has been his identity for millennia, and it comforts him, gives him stability in an ever-changing universe.

What he feels for Crowley is decidedly not rational, and that's more terrifying than the Great Plan failing him.

(Or, Aziraphale and Crowley move into a cottage together after the world doesn't end, and Aziraphale tries to be brave.)

To Fools and Stars by NebulaEyes (T)

After a visit from Adam ends with an upgraded computer and a blogging profile, Aziraphale is soon talking with someone who seems to be in the same predicament his own heart is in. What will happen when he realizes just how much this person relates to his situation? What will be said? Will it all work out?

The Constancy of Stars by AppleSeeds (T)

Struggling with the fast pace of change in his life and seeking to connect with something more stable and constant, Aziraphale attends an event run by the Tadfield Astronomical Society to learn more about the stars. After meeting captivating astronomer Crowley, Aziraphale realises that the constancy he's been seeking in his life is more about wanting to have someone, rather than something, that he can rely on to always be there, but would it be too much to hope that Crowley might share his feelings?

the fact of his pulse by lexophile (NR)

The revelation of the angel’s face hovering over him—and his firelit, affectionate expression—is more than he can cope with right now. Crowley shuts his eyes again, although he does make an effort to relax his shoulders and curl his knees in towards his chest. He’s aware that lying in the fetal position with his head on an angel’s lap is just about the least demonic thing he’s ever done.

Or: five times Crowley successfully conceals his crush on Aziraphale and one time he fails.

And the three you mentioned...

Any Other Name by ignaz (T)

“It’s just,” he continued, “I’ve noticed that humans—some humans, anyway—they use that word, angel, as a…well, as a sort of…endearment.”

“Do they?” said Crowley, who had invented using the word as an endearment in the 13th century AD.

Something to do with these sacred words by Solshine (T)

Crowley confesses early, and Crowley confesses often. Aziraphale never knows quite what to say.

all i need, darling, is a life in your shape by deadgreeks (G)

After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives. --- Why? Aziraphale wanted to ask him, why millennia of the way things were, and now this?

But while Crowley seemed to have little issue upending every unspoken rule they’d ever written for themselves, Aziraphale was not so flexible, and they had spent thousands of years never quite addressing whatever it was this had stemmed from. Words, Aziraphale had always felt, were for bickering about where to eat for lunch, or hashing out ontological debates, or other trivial nonsense; there was no need to trifle with the imprecision of language, with phrasing and the possibility of being misconstrued, when it came to important matters if the other person simply understood, without needing it said. Six thousand years ago, when Aziraphale had met Crowley on the wall of Eden, watching the first two humans set out to begin the rest of history, something deep within him, more central even than his Grace, had thought, oh, it’s you, and that had been enough for him--for both of them, he assumed--for three millennia.

However much he wanted to ask, he didn’t know how. The words simply weren’t there.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #pining #fluff #mod d

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thecascadefox · 1 year

Text

The Shadow preview has summoned me

Time to expand on how I want Thunder the obligatory traveling book to pan out. My hopes for Frostpaw and Nightheart are here.

I think it's inevitable now that if Nightheart is the warrior who goes on the quest with Frostpaw, then Sunbeam, Sparkpelt and Finchlight will go after them since they're on the cover together. Their goal will be to get Nightheart back and, I'm sorry, make amends with him. BUT HERE'S HOW THEIR CHARACTERS CAN STILL BE SAVED!!!!!!!

Everything involving Nightheart here will only be interesting to me if Nightheart matures and grows as a character the way I said I wanted him to in the previous post so go read that.

Let's start with Finchlight since so far she's an accessory character to Sparkpelt and Nightheart but I think they could expand what she does have. Have Finchlight be someone who looks at the big picture, the effect the actions of herself and others have on the clans. This makes her very selfless while also causing her to hold others to her standards without thinking of how they'll feel first. This can explain why she brings up work when trying to get Nightheart to come home and brushed off his frustrations with having all the apprentice duties before that.

Imagine Finchlight being selfless to the point where she doesn't want to bother others with her problems, especially her mother who is the only cat who's feelings she is acutely aware of. Nightheart's selfishness and unwillingness to give Sparkpelt a chance frustrates her because it's obvious how much their mother has suffered and she doesn't understand how Nightheart won't make things easier for her the way she has. Finchlight can't really find it in herself to value Firestar's legacy the way Sparkpelt and the rest of Thunderclan do, but she pretends to to make them and her mother feel better. What really hurts her is the more immediate family she's lost. She never knew Larksong and has always felt like something was missing. When Nightheart leaves and that feeling grows, she realizes it's Flickerkit.

But talking about them hurts Sparkpelt, so she doesn't. But at some point during the journey she breaks down and argues with Sparkpelt, admitting everything. This conflict could either be resolved during the fight or sometime later, after they've both cooled off and Sunbeam perhaps mediated for them, and Sparkpelt tells Finchlight about her father.

Speaking of Sparkpelt she's had it pretty rough right? Two of her siblings died as kits, one being old enough for her to remember. Her surviving brother was a bundle of anxiety when they were young and she was most of his emotional support. Her father is awful to her mother and she's been the only cat to ever call him out. Her mate and one of her kits died right after she gave birth. Her PPD made it difficult to connect to her surviving kits. Her dad got his body snatched by her mom's crazy ex who then tried to kill her, successfully getting her mauled by dogs. One of her kits refused to go with her when she was exiled but blames her for her absence and now he's rejected his family completely and run away to another clan.

No wonder she would value Firestar's "legacy". Growing up hearing glorified versions of his life and being constantly favorably compared to him both for her appearance and natural talent may have been both a source of comfort and pressure to live up to him as her living family seems to spiral out of control. When Nightheart rejected Firestar, it felt like he had rejected her twice. She desperately wants to get him back, for things to stop falling apart, even if she doesn't think he will give her the chance. This turns into her blaming herself.

Sparkpelt isn't an apprentice anymore. She knows that Firestar couldn't have been the perfect model of a Thunderclan warrior the elders make him out to be. He was a brave and noble cat who gave his life to save the clans but he was also born a kittypet who felt rejection, fear, pain and loss just like any cat has. The life of a warrior has never been easy but it's a fantasy that kept Sparkpelt going in her younger moons and she hoped it could be a reality for her kits in the wake of Ashfur's defeat. She finally confronts this part of herself in her argument with Finchlight and is ready to look at herself separate from a cat she never met.

She faces the past, her past, by having a quiet conversation with her daughter about Larksong. Even though it's hard at first, and Finchlight tries to tell her they can talk about it later, she continues. She tells Finchlight about the funny time he fumbled catching a pigeon and the wistful look on his face when they'd brainstorm kit names, the same look he had when naming Flickerkit. She tells Finchlight that Flickerkit had the same fur she does. She feels herself begin to heal.

Sparkpelt knows she has tried her best to be there for her kits. That things outside of her control have kept her from always being there for them. She is ready to speak her piece to Nightheart, but whatever choices he makes will be his own.

I didn't forget about Sunbeam! I like this post about Sunbeam's behavior falling into the rule of three and hope it comes to pass. Sunbeam gives Nightheart a chance but his selfish reason for claiming they're mates and how little they actually know each other bubbles over until the end of Shadow where there's a pretty noticeable breakup. Berryheart will be like "I told you so!" and suddenly half of Shadowclan will question Nightheart's loyalty even more. This will lead to Nightheart going on the quest but Sunbeam will blame herself and want to go after him. The key here is that the story doesn't spin this like it actually is her fault.

Sunbeam needs to learn to value and trust herself and she does so by getting better friends. While both her and her mother are apprehensive towards Sunbeam at first, Finchlight bonds with Sunbeam and becomes a better friend to her than Lightleap, Blazefire and even Nightheart ever were. Finchlight cares about Sunbeam. She doesn't find her dull or put her or herself into danger. She doesn't use her for self centered reasons. Through her Sunbeam learns that she is worth more than that and Finchlight learns to be more open with other cats.

Sparkpelt is a slightly different story. She doesn't trust cats outside of Thunderclan. It's not a secret and has been shown in multiple scenes since she became a warrior, including towards her own apprentice Twigbranch. In a way, Sparkpelt reminds Sunbeam of her mother. But unlike Berryheart, Sparkpelt's distrust comes just from being raised in clan culture rather than a traumatic event. Sunbeam is more willing to stand up to her than Berryheart and becomes more confident in what she believes in. I think it would be interesting for Sunbeam, an outsider, to point out to Sparkpelt that the ancestor she admires was a kittypet. Perhaps in a scene where they need the help of one. Unlike Berryheart, Sparkpelt grows willing to listen to her.

As they travel, Sparkpelt starts to like Sunbeam and become supportive of the code changes, accepting the idea that her son might never want to return to Thunderclan. Like her, Sunbeam stops blaming herself for Nightheart's actions. The way he cornered her into a relationship just to get into Shadowclan was wrong and hurt her and she will stand by that when they reunite. Sunbeam gains a better role model in Sparkpelt and returns to the clan with a clearer idea of how to stand up to Berryheart should she bother her, Spireclaw, Fringewhisker or Nightheart ever again and is willing to fight whatever battles that will inevitably break out in the last two books.

This being Warrior Cats, it's likely she and Nightheart will end up making up and getting back together. Even if Nightheart realizes he was wrong and tries to make up for his actions I don't know if I'll like that. I think it would be much more interesting for them to become friends instead as we haven't seen a breakup that hasn't resulted in resentment before in this series.

Anyway that's all the ideas I have for this for now. If Sunbeam feels a little sparse it's because for Finchlight and Sparkpelt I had to build character arcs beyond Nightheart's "wah they mean to me" shtick while I like Sunbeam's arc on it's own so far. If you have your own ideas or want me to think about any of this more feel free to tell me! I'm gonna go make more fanart for a book that isn't out yet.

#warrior cats #warriors #wc #a starless clan #a starless clan spoilers #asc #asc spoilers #a starless clan thunder #a starless clan shadow #a starless clan shadow spoilers #shadow spoilers #sunbeam #sparkpelt #finchlight #nightheart #berryheart #frostpaw

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butlersxbirdy · 2 years

Note

Hey! Can you do an Austin imagine where he comforts the reader after she has a nightmare where she loses him?

Here it is! I decided to do it as a part of the Canon for my series You Light My Morning Sky, because it gave me Derek and Meredith vibes, and I wanted it to have a moodboard. Whoever finds the MerDer Easter eggs in the board gets a cookie!

You Light My Morning Sky

Interlude 2: Dark and Stormy Nights

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, nightmares, mentions of death, use of Daddy/Princess outside of sex

You and Austin had been married for about a year now, and everything is perfect. He was every bit as doting as you'd known him to be and more since you became man and wife.

On your anniversary, you decide to surprise him with a nice dinner. You got all dressed up after prepping and getting everything in the oven, and you decided to light some candles everywhere to really set the mood for romance. You were secretly hoping Austin would come home and successfully put a baby in your belly, but you didn't dare hope you'd nail it on the first try.

After watching the clock, and beginning to get worried, you called his phone. He didn't answer.

You tried not to panic, but a knock at the door sends chills down your spine.

When you answer, a police officer is standing there.

"Are you y/n Butler?" He asks and you nod. Your whole body is shaking, and numb.

"Yes, I am, is everything okay?" You ask, barely above a whisper.

"Come with us please."

The ride to the hospital is agonizing. You feel sick to your stomach, and all you want is to see Austin. When you arrive, they lead you down a hallway to a small private room.

The machines beeping and the fluorescent lights make it seem as though someone is in the bed, but there is no life in the body in front of you. Austin isn't there anymore. You can feel it; the love he felt for you, the fire in those eyes, the strength of spirit that warmed any room he occupied, is gone. Before they can ask you to positively identify him, you scream, collapsing to the floor in anguish. You couldn’t go on without Austin.

You awoke with a cry, to an empty bed. The nightmare felt so real, and his side of the bed is empty. Your body shakes with sobs and you can't shake the queasy feeling still churning your stomach, and you scream out for help, for him to come back.

"DADDY!" you sob. Instantly, he runs in from the living room and scoops you up into his arms.

"Baby, baby, hey... hey, I'm here, what's wrong?" He coos. You cling to him, putting your hands everywhere you can reach, making sure he's real.

"Daddy, you were dead... they had you on all these machines but you were gone," you sob and he nuzzles you.

"That's never gonna happen, baby. I'm not leaving you, we have so much more to do together," he assures you. He pulls away a little to look at you but you cling tighter.

"Oh... baby, you're really shook up, huh?" He coos and you nod.

"Y...yeah, Austin, of course I am," You sniff. "I love you, so much, and I can't... I can't..." you sob, and he wraps you up in his arms, trying not to cry but his eyes are damp. His love for you is overwhelming, and the thought of leaving you, the thought of you having to live without him, marry someone else, have children with someone else, was painful. When he does pull away a little to look at you, you nuzzle his cheek and feel his tears.

"Why are y..you crying, D...Daddy?" You hiccup and he runs his hands through your hair. Your hands come up to cup his face tenderly, and he kisses the inside of your wrist.

"Picturing leaving you. I love you too much," he hums.

"Then why did I wake up alone?" You pout as he lays you down, cuddling up to you and turning off the lights.

"I was writing my vows, Princess," he whispers, kissing your skin everywhere he can. "But that can wait, let's go to sleep, hold on to Daddy, okay?" He soothes you and you cuddle in extra close, pushing your hands up his shirt and tangling your legs together.

"My Daddy," you sigh and he smiles, kissing your face as you drift off to sleep.

"My princess," he hums, and soon is asleep too, dreaming of the day he gets to call you Mrs. Butler.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #you light my morning sky #austin butler fic #fic requests #austin butler x reader

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hannahhook7744 · 5 months

Text

Stella, Stefan, Stephanie, and Stewart Harrington, Children of Steve Harrington;

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Character Death, bribery, child endangerment, attempted kidnapping, bribes, playing with fire, Homophobia, cancer, etc.

You have been warned.

Tell me if you think I should add a specific one to the trigger warnings list.

Stephanie Harrington:

Her full name is Stephanie Robin Harrington.

She is the 'oldest' of the quads by five minutes.

She is the bio daughter of Steve Harrington (who is deceased in this au) and his ex, Becky (who wanted nothing to do with the kids), and the adoptive daughter/ward of Tommy and Carol.

She has a puppy from Tommy and Carol’s dog (Mercury) who she named ‘Djo’ after finding the name scribbled on some of her dad’s old things.

She wears teashades—round/circular sunglasses old school musicians used to wear—as well as a whistle necklace at almost all times.

She is a big fan of heavy metal music and is Eddie’s favorite of the quads (even though he will NEVER admit it).

She plays basketball like her dad did in highschool but has luckily not inherited some of his (or Tommy and Carol’s) worse habits from those years.

Eddie is her favorite uncle (besides Tommy, which Eddie says doesn’t count because he raised her and therefore has an unfair advantage).

Eddie started teaching her how to play guitar when she was three (he actually tried to teach her as a baby but Carol threatened to ban him from watching her unsupervised again if he tried again before she was three when she caught him doing so due to fear of it hurting the baby).

Oh and once when Stephanie was eight she convinced Eddie—who was babysitting her—to dye his and her hair (he actually did get banned from watching her unsupervised for awhile after that one).

Stephanie still dyes her hair to this day.

She also has a nasty habit of playing with fire and fireworks because they fascinate her—one no body has successfully been able to break her of.

Her favorite color is yellow and her favorite food is honey combs cereal.

She carries around the lighter that used to belong to her dad (That Robin gave her when she was 13) along with a picture of him at basketball practice someone took a couple years before his death because she finds it comforting having them.

She rides her bike around when she’s not able to get a ride from anyone else.

She is seventeen and still trying to get her license—with Eddie teaching her, of course.

She uses her dad’s lighter as a weapon.

She’s not very good at fighting but she’s also very stubborn and very willing to fight anyone who messes with her siblings, her friends, and her ‘cousins’. Oh and anyone who mistreats her pets.

She gets in a decent amount of trouble at school but maintains that she’s never fought/pranked anyone and disrespected a teacher who didn’t deserve it.

Out of her siblings and friends, Stephanie has showed up the least in Adrien Byers-Wheeler’s videos on his youtube channel “PhantomPursuits.” Not because she thinks she’s above it or anything. She’s just usually occupied with other things. Like trying to get people to join her and Reed’s band ‘The Ever Burnings.’

Her favorite band is Iron Maiden.

Her favorite song is “Wrathchild’.

Her best friend is her brother, Stewart.

She is lactose intolerant but chooses to ignore that fact because she loves dairy products much too much to stop eating/drinking them.

Out of her siblings—besides her sister—she has gotten the most injuries due both her clumsiness and impulsiveness. Oh and the fights she has gotten in.

Stepahnie has spent many summers in a cast of some kind.

She is a romantic just like her dad.

She is coincidentally enough, a lesbain, like her aunt Robin who she is partially named after.

She doesn’t have her eye on anyone yet, however (something Tommy is relieved about because he DOES not want to see if she has her father’s taste in women or not yet).

She likes the hippy style of clothing and wears it which always manages to throw some people off when they hear what type of music she listens to/plays.

Oh and she is a bit of a conspiracy theorist due to the events leading up to her father’s death.

She has met her bio grandparents exactly once when they bribed someone in the office at her elementary school to let them see her. She left the room (and school) immediately and walked to Eddie’s house. Needless to say, the school got the tongue lashing of the lifetime from the adult members of the upside down crew as well as Tommy and Carol, and some of the upside down crew’s parents and guardians and there was a lawsuit and everything. (Stephanie got a high five from Eddie for leaving the school when they pulled that stunt). Tommy nearly punched Mr Harrington (again).

Stephanie wishes she felt more connected to her dad and feels bad that she doesn’t.

She has told no one she feels like this, though. She’s also forever grateful that her dad saved Eddie because Eddie has always had her back (though she also feels a bit guilty for feeling that way since he died saving him).

She goes to her dad’s grave sometimes just to talk to him and will often also play some music and leave flowers.

Whenever something goes wrong, she will jokingly blame it on the government.

She’s scared of disappointing those she loves as well as losing them. Oh and bees, since she’s allergic to them.

She is also quite close to Lucas, who taught her (along with Tommy) how to play basketball.

Stephanie is also not a big fan of comic books but loves horror novels.

Oh and she's known about the upside down since she was nine after accidentally overhearing a hushed argument between Tommy and Carol about it. How they know about it she doesn't know but what she does know is that they don't know she and her siblings know.

She also stopped Ophelia from confronting them on the matter a month afterwards when the girl found out from snooping.

She'd love to be a famous musician/basketball player when she gets older.

Stella Harrington:

Her full name is Stella Chrissy Harrington.

She is the second youngest of the quads.

She and her siblings are currently seventeen.

She is the bio daughter of Steve Harrington (who is deceased in this au) and his ex, Becky (who wanted nothing to do with the kids), and the adoptive daughter/ward of Tommy and Carol.

Stella loves her uncle Tommy and aunt Carol, and her dad but… she just doesn’t feel connected to her dad that much and gets frustrated how much of their lives are dictated by what happened to her dad/how he would have wanted to raise them. And because of that, she kinda resents him but feels bad at the same time about it.

She also has never really been curious about her mom the way her siblings have and kinda gets annoyed with them for asking so many questions about it.

Her favorite color is denim blue.

She is into the punk scene a lot and puts up with no one's shit.

She has gotten into a lot of fights over the years over people messing with her siblings and friends but also over some dumb things as well.

She's the closest to Dustin, Max, and Erica out of the upside down crew.

Max started teaching her how to Skateboard when she was six and Stella has loved it ever since. It is her primary mode of solo transportation.

She can drive but doesn't really see the point in when you live in a small town like Hawkins.

She is apart of the lacrosse team (fought like hell to get on it) and has nearly been kicked off it several times for bad behavior. Now she's just gotten better at hiding bad behavior.

She loves dnd and playing video games.

Reed Buckley is her best friend but she's also close to her brother Stewart as well.

She's ridiculously good at sneaking into places and leaving the most random things behind (like tiny plastic babies).

Stella is also ridiculously good at graffiti and at not getting caught at doing the graffiti.

She has an axe made from a stop sign that Reed and her made together when they found out about the Upside down.

She is a quite friendly person to those she likes.

She is also very good with little kids.

Her favorite food is any flavor of Pringles.

She wears a lot of denim products.

One time her adoptive cousin, Marshall, made her denim socks as a joke and she wore them non stop to spite him for the gag gift. He was horrified.

Eddie thought it was hilarious.

Her favorite musical artist is Pink.

Her favorite songs from her are 'Family Portrait' and 'You Make Me Sick'.

She has broken every rule she found stupid in her school books. Yes, she got lots of detentions and groundings for it (except on the few occasions where Tommy and Carol agreed the rules were stupid).

She is planning to get a pet snake or rat or something else she finds cool when she moves out.

Stella is asexual and aromantic.

She likes fantasy books.

Her favorite video game is Escape from Monkey Island.

Outside of Ophelia and Stephanie, Stella was the hardest of her siblings and cousins to raise.

Her favorite movie is Frequency.

Her favorite book is The Chronicles of Narnia. She used to make anyone and everyone read it to her.

She met her grandparents exactly once while at the playground with Zane and Dustin when she was four. Mr Harrington ended up with a broken nose after attempting to pick her up (this was exactly two days after she was given the 'stranger danger talk'). Her grandparents haven't tried to contact her (or her cousin, Zane, who tripped Mrs. Harrington when she chased after Stella) since.

Stella and Zane got a lot of snacks afterwards.

Stella is scarily good at fighting people.

She told Reed about the Upside Down and has no qualms admitting to it.

She wants to be a doctor when she grows up.

Oh and she hates lasagna and broccoli with a passion.

She had a lot of energy as a kid and Dustin and Max usually 'had' (note: did so with a lot of insistence) to take her off of Tommy and Carol's hands once a week so they could get a break.

She was very much the kid to accidentally break something and blame the dog. Even if the person whose house she was at did not have a dog.

Hopper has had to pick her up/take her to the station a couple of times. It was not a comfortable experience for either of them.

She has ADHD.

She has shown up a lot in a lot of "PhantomPursuits" videos because she likes talking about conspiracies (and also trash talking the government).

She also just likes trolling people who are assholes for no reason.

Stella is the Harrington kid who is the most likely to help someone hide a body.

She ended up spending a lot of summers in a cast and having to get a lot of shots because of how adventurous (read: reckless) she could be.

Also she can't draw but she's really good at painting figurines.

The moment she could read, she started taking an interest in dnd and sat in on campaigns when she was able to.

Dustin once brought her to a campaign when he was babysitting her as a baby and she somehow didn't end up making a peep all night. Eddie described it as creepy (Tommy properly threw a rag at him for the comment).

Oh and she has a photo of her dad and his two cousins (Chrissy and Fred) before they died somewhere in her room.

Stefan Harrington:

His full name is Stefan Dustin Harrington.

He is the second oldest of the Harrington quads.

He is 17 years old.

He uses a javelin as a weapon and wants to be a teacher.

He has a cat he named ‘Beethoven’.

He is on the swim team.

Stefan wants to explore the world.

He has a chalkboard in his room.

His favorite color is green.

He’s the closest to Robin out of his siblings but he’s also pretty close to Mike and Dustin.

Stefan likes jazz music as well as classical music but also enjoys some pop songs.

He loves the show ‘Horrible Histories’ and is a bit of a conspiracist.

He is the bio son of Steve Harrington and his ex, Becky. Ward/adoptive son of Tommy and Carol.

His favorite song is 'Waiting on the world to change' by John Mayer.

His favorite video game is ‘What Remains of Edith Finch’.

He has tons of VHS tapes, CDs, an MVP Player, and DVDs as well as tons of books, magazines, and maps (including a globe) in his room.

He carries around a photo of his dad leaning against a locker and a photo of his dad, uncle Tommy, and aunt Carol in the school cafeteria around in his wallet because it helps him feel more connected to him.

He knows tons of languages including the language of the flowers and sign language.

Stefan has met his dad’s parents exactly once when he was 10—he immediately froze up and they were immediately jumped by his cousin, Opheila, and his good friend, Reed. They never contacted him again.

He has the neatest handwriting and the best notes out of all his friends and siblings.

He usually rides his bike to get around.

He is a big fan of old media.

His extended family likes to joke that he is an old soul and that this is only one of many lives.

Coincidentally, he’s also big into reading about reincarnation and spooky stuff—which is why he helped Adrien, Nova, and Opheila create their show ‘PhantomPursuits’.

Also he was the first person besides Nova to find out that Adrien and Ophelia were an item. How did he discover that, you ask? Through the simple power of context clues and observation, of course!

He was sworn to secrecy but that didn’t matter because the rest of the group eventually found out anyway.

He doesn’t have many friends outside of the group and he’s okay with that.

He is straight and has a crush on a girl who is on the debate team with him (she's the daughter of one of Corrid Coffin's members).

Stefan ALSO loves ice cream and is the reason Robin was eventually able to eat ice cream again (something she couldn’t bear to do after Steve died).

Nancy and Jonathan used to help him with his homework when he was younger and struggled more on focusing (due to his learning disabilities).

After finding out about the upside down, he went out of his way to find out more about it and eventually found some of Will and El’s drawings of the upside down and the monsters in it (and had nightmares about it for months afterwards).

His nightmares were not helped by the show ‘Are You Afraid of the Dark?’ which he watched religiously as a kid and to this day.

He loves cartoon, movie, book, and game theories.

He can be described as ‘paranoid’.

He lost the photo of his dad once and was convinced that the government stole it and was hysterical about it. It appeared on his bed a week later.

He wishes that he could have met his dad but also feels guilty for feeling that way because Tommy and Carol treated him well and raised him well, and he feels like he’s betraying them in a way for wishing it.

He is close to his siblings and often fears losing them.

Stefan is also secretly scared of water, blood, and the dark (due to the upside down shit he found out about it when snooping) but has not told anyone due to fear of being made fun of.

He wants to get a tattoo of a skull when he’s legally able to.

If he can’t become a teacher, he wants to be an archaeologist or both, if he can.

He is a gifted child.

Oh and he likely would have been bullied more by his siblings if it weren't for the fact he is friends with and related to some very terrifying people.

Stewart Harrington:

His full name is Stewart Frederick Harrington.

He is the youngest of the quads.

He takes after Will and El the most (and occasionally Jonathan).

He is the quad who feels the most connected to his dad and he still wishes to this day he could have met his dad.

He’s seventeen years old.

He is a sickly kid and has cancer.

Stewart is bisexual and has a crush on Samantha Stone’s adoptive son, Bae Stone—even though his friends and siblings take the mickey out of him for liking the kid who pretends/thinks he’s a vampire.

His favorite food is eggos.

He is a red head like his mom and wants to know about her more than any of his other siblings do. Which has caused some issues between him and his siblings.

His favorite color is red.

Stewart is a big fan of horror media and true crime and the paranormal as well as monsters and cryptids.

He also likes gardening and hedge art.

He is a wonderful artist and an amazing baseball player.

He is also quite good at making costumes and comic books and he opens to own his own shop where he sells the things he makes one day. He would also like to maybe be a professional baseball player if he could.

He draws on his sneakers.

Stewart fights with a baseball bat like his dad.

He is a quiet kid.

He has appeared in several of the “PhantomPursuits” videos.

Stewart used to walk around wearing a cape as a little kid. He didn’t stop for a long time.

He can come off as moody at times and can be very sarcastic.

He’s not exactly book smart but he is street smart and gets good enough grades.

Stewart’s taste in music is mainly ‘it has words, isn’t too sexual, and speaks to me’.

He has 774 songs in his playlist.

His favorite song is 'Weird Kid' by Rosendale.

He gets a tumblr as soon as it is invented.

He was definitely in superhero and horror chatrooms a lot and he was definitely that kid spreading urban legends around.

Oh and he was ‘that kid’ who tried to smuggle lizards, worms, frogs, toads, and other small animals into his house. Including a baby crocodile once. No. No one knows WHERE he got a baby crocodile. No he wasn’t allowed to keep it. No it wasn’t harmed—just released somewhere where it belonged.

He has a slight obsession with pirates.

His favorite book is ‘The Old Willis Place’ by Mary Downing Hahn but ‘Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark’ by Alvin Schwartz is a close second.

His favorite video game is ‘The Haunted Mansion’.

His favorite movie is ‘Thirteen Ghosts’.

His favorite show was ‘Are You Afraid of the Dark?’.

Stewart is also interested in the zombie apocalypse and has come up with several scenarios for it.

He has sensory and attention issues.

He can read 200 plus page books in two days if he likes the story enough.

He dressed up as a vampire several times as a kid for Halloween.

Stewart knows sign language.

He works at the local movie theater with Bae Stone.

Oh and the two of them are theater kids.

He often wonders what his dad would think of him and is often afraid that he’d have been disappointed in him.

He carries a pocket knife on him at all times along with a sketchbook and other art supplies.

He is the one who uses the family car most often outside of his parents and he usually keeps his bat in the trunk.

Stewart has exactly one photo of his dad in his pocket of him on a lawn chair spoking from the day Barb disappeared.

He always feels like the odd one out no matter where he is except with Bae no matter what anyone does but he hasn’t told anyone because he doesn’t want to make them feel bad.

Carol and Tommy are more protective of him than they are of his siblings and Ophelia (they are about equally protective of Marshall as they are of him).

He loves the family dog and the family cat very dearly.

He gets in the least trouble out of his siblings.

But he has ended up with almost as many injuries as his siblings due to some bigots in town.

Oh and he has broken into the zoo before. Not that anyone knows that.

------------------------------------------------------------

Note:

These headcanons take place in my Stranger Things au 'Cats in the Cradle'.

In that au:

Tommy and Carol are left to raise Steve's four infant children with the help of the Upside Down Crew, Steve's half brother, Steve's younger cousin, and their collective families.

Jason and Eddie live.

Max is less seriously injured.

Phil Callahan is Steve's older half brother.

And Chrissy, her brother, and Fred Benson were Steve's cousins.

Oh and Steve hooked up with one of his pre-nancy girlfriends and after his death she found herself pregnant with quads that Steve never got to meet.

Hope that clears up any confusion regarding these ocs and headcanons.

#stranger things #steve harrington #st character edits #st #the Harrington Quads #st next generation #st next gen #stranger things next gen #stranger things next generation #stranger things au #stranger things alternate universe #st alternate universe #dad steve harrington #steve harrington has bad parents #etc

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 1 year

Text

I Should be Asleep

12:30 am

I Should be Asleep (AO3)

@nerdypanda3126 Surprise!!! I’m your secret admirer!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 PLEASE FORGIVE ME THAT THIS IS SO LATE!!!!! Your prompts were so amazing and they really got the inspiration flowing for me again, it was so hard to decide which one(s) to use. But then I listened to this song and I knew I had to use this prompt!! I've low key become a bit obsessed with it 😂 Again, I'm so so so sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy it!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

“Uh- hey! My Name’s Mama! Uh Ma-Ma-Marinette! Your mom sent me to down here- the groove- uh, the group’s waiting for you.”

“Hello Ma-Ma-Marinette.

Sorry, I tend to make more sense with this.”

***

It was always hard to really see the crowd when he was on stage. When he wasn’t being blinded by the lights, the faces tended to blur together. Especially the more he got into the music.

But even with the lights and the music, he kept catching glimpses of her face.

He had seen her before today. But only in Juleka’s pictures. And sure, he had noticed, in a casual, passing glance kind of way, that she was cute. But her picture hadn’t really prepared him for meeting her. And she was just…

He glanced up from his guitar to flash a blind grin at the cheering crowd as he riffed. And his eyes immediately found her face in the crowd. The way the lights caught her eyes… they were so bright and vivid and clear.

And so sincere.

***

Truth be told, when she had found out Rose, Juleka, and Ivan were in a band with Juleka’s brother—Luka—she hadn’t expected… well, she hadn’t been entirely sure what she had expected. But given Rose’s… pinkness, she hadn’t expected Rose to sing like that. Just like she hadn’t expected shy and quiet Juleka to transform into a hair flipping, spotlight seeking star. Or for Ivan to be grinning so broadly that his megawatt smile would rival the lights for their brightness.

And she hadn’t been expecting… she hadn’t been expecting Luka.

When she had found out Juleka had a brother, she hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect. She had assumed he would maybe dress a bit like her friend, and she hadn’t been entirely wrong on that front. And she had thought that maybe he would be quiet, the way Juleka was. She hadn’t been wrong about that either. Not exactly anyway.

She furrowed her brows as her gaze drifted to land on him. He was quiet. But he was quiet in an intense kind of way. But he was also so… open too. And he was sweet, the way he had played for her and given him his guitar pick. And so brave the way he had drawn Captain Hardrock’s attention away so she could escape. And-

She shook her head. She was supposed to be enjoying herself. Enjoying the concert. Not thinking about- Especially given Adrien had been able to make it after all.

***

He had only tumbled into bed maybe twenty minutes ago, but usually he was able to fall asleep pretty quick. Especially after a day like today.

Because it had been a day.

Thinking about it, it was pretty impressive his ma hadn’t been akumatized before today. She liked to be contrary, and she lived her life to the beat of her own drum, no matter how many warnings and tickets officer Raincomprix gave her. And his ma was… if someone was being polite, they would probably say she was expressive. Officer Raincomprix, on the other hand, would probably call her volatile. What in all fairness, was true.

And that had meant she had been a tough akuma. It had been impressive, seeing Ladybug up close in action like that. And she had saved his ma, the way she always saved Hawkmoth’s victims. And the concert had been able to go ahead almost exactly as planned, minus a few decibels and plus a keyboard.

Overall, it had been a good day.

He shifted in bed as he stretched out his legs to angle them into a more comfortable position and let out a sigh as he sank a little deeper into the mattress. It had actually been a really good day. Because on top of the concert going off, not without a hitch but successfully nonetheless, he had made a new friend.

Juleka had gushed about Marinette before. Well, as much as Jules gushed about anything. Marinette’s name had been a familiar one on the Liberty, even though she hadn’t set foot on board before today. And he got it. Marinette was sweet. Kind. Funny. And she was brilliant, the way she had gotten them out of the chains, and so brave the way she had gone to alert Ladybug. If Juleka’s words and first impressions were anything to go by, Marinette was the kind of friend he wanted in his corner. And she had offered that friendship almost instantly.

It had been a great day.

But he was tired now. And he had to get up early tomorrow to pick up his bike from the repair shop. Except, no matter what he did, no matter how comfortable he made himself, he couldn’t sleep. He felt like he was plugged into an amp. And there was music in his head, begging for him to untangle the melody and make sense of the notes. And the music sounded an awful lot like stumbled words and blue eyes and a heart worn on a sleeve.

Normally, when he couldn’t sleep he would just grab his guitar and play until he was ready to sleep. But somehow, he had a sinking suspicion that if he started playing now, he wouldn’t be able to stop playing that song.

With a groan, he rolled onto his back to star up at the ceiling. It was just barely visible in the dim light of the streetlights filtering through the makeshift curtains he and Jules had draped haphazardly over the portholes. In the dim light, he could just make out the cracks in his ceiling, some of which he and Jules had tried to cover with with stickers when they were younger. Maybe he just needed something else to focus on to settle his mind…

***

She snuggled a little closer under the covers. It had been a long day. Juleka’s mom had been a tough akuma, and having her friends so close to the action always put her on edge. But everything had turned out fine in the end.

And despite the akuma, it had been a really good day. The concert had been able to go ahead, and Adrien had been able to make it in the end. A sigh slipped past her lips at the thought, and she let her eyes flutter shut. It had been a good day, but a long one, and she was ready to slip off into her familiar dreams.

Or maybe a new one.

She had gotten to see Adrien play with the rest of Kitty Section, and she was sure that would offer plenty of dream fodder. Already, she was hoping piano music and emerald eyes would fill her dreams.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself as the memories of the evening washed over her. Behind her closed lids, her eyes were heavy, and already, she could feel herself slipping toward sleep. The technicolor lights were softer in her mind than they had been during the show, and they were skewed in rosier tones. But that wasn’t unusual; her dreams of Adrien tended to be rose-tinted.

She sank into the dream, surrendering herself to the music, gentler than what Kitty Section had played. More heartfelt. More intimate.

The softly plucked notes of the guitar swirled around her, almost caressing her as she drifted closer to sleep. A mouth twisted into a shy and embarrassed smile as blue eyes flashed from under a sweep of dark hair. And a calm and quiet voice-

The world lurched around her as she sat bolt upright in bed. From somewhere beside her bed, Tikki yelped as her pillows topple off the bed.

Guitar music?

Blue eyes?

“Marinette! What’s wrong?”

Her gaze, as if drawn by a magnet, landed on her desk. Where the guitar pick Luka had given her sat, propped up against her water bottle. She couldn’t make out Jagged’s grinning face in the dark, but she could picture it clear as day with his wide grin and blue eyes. Eyes almost as blue as-

“Marinette?” Tikki was suddenly hovering in front of her, her eyes wide with concern.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

She cast another quick glance at her desk before shaking her head. “Nothing,” she said, trying to smile, “it was just a dream.”

It was just a dream, wasn’t it?”

***

He had no idea what time it was now. All he knew that that he should have been asleep right now. And that he wasn’t.

That, and the only thing that he had accomplished by staring up at the ceiling was memorizing all the cracks in it. And the placement of the stickers.

And that trying to not think about music, especially when there was music demanding to be thought about, was impossible. At least, for him.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, partly to muffle his groan so he wouldn’t wake Jules—he did not want to face her full Queen of Darkness fury for waking her up—and partly so to give himself a break from staring at the ceiling. But it was burned into his mind. Which didn’t bode well for how much time he had spent staring at it instead of sleeping.

And the music was in his mind, captivating his thoughts no matter how hard he tried not to pay attention to it—a first for him for sure—and the more he tried not to pay attention to it, the more it demanded his attention.

It was all he could think about.

But she was Juleka’s friend. And he had only just met her. He had known her less than a day.

But her song was so sincere.

She was so sincere.

As sincere as a melody…

***

She bit back a huff as she stared up into the darkness. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew she should have been asleep by now. She should have been asleep ages ago.

But every time she closed her eyes, her visions of green eyes and gold hair and a perfect smile were replaced by glinting ocean eyes and messy dark hair and a sweet and lopsided grin.

Sighing, she rolled over, carefully so as to now wake Tikki, and glared at her alarm clock. The numbers glowed dimly in the darkness, mocking her.

She should definitely be asleep right now.

Groaning, she rolled back onto her back. Why was Luka suddenly invading her dreams? Was it because of his mom being akumatized? But if that was the case, shouldn’t Juleka have been in her dreams too? He was Juleka’s brother after all. Her thoughts drifted to that moment in his room. When he had played his guitar for her and-

The pick!

It must have been because he gave her the guitar pick. That had to be it.

With that settled, she closed her eyes and snuggled back into the embrace of her mattress. She let her breaths deepen as she willed sleep to come to her. She focused her mind on the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. In and out. She repeated the words in her mind with every inhale and exhale, lulling herself toward the brink of sleep.

‘I think Marinette the compass has found herself a new statue.’

Her eyes flew open, and she shot up in bed as Alya’s words from earlier echoed in her head.

#lbscexchange2023 #lbscsecretadmirer2023 #endgame lukanette #pro lukamari #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fluff #pining #I'm sorry it's so late

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charsoamerican · 9 months

Text

playlist for a good girls guide to murder swifties :)

*really big spoilers for the whole series so please don’t read this if you haven’t read the series and are going to*

I Did Something Bad - This one fits obviously because she killed Jason but it’s fine because he was a rapist and a serial killer so he deserved it, but the line “Yeah I did something bad, and it felt so good” Because she said even though it was bad she didn’t regret it (as she shouldn’t)

Vigilante Sh*t - it’s literally pips song “you did some bad things but I’m the worst of them” Jason killed a bunch of people and she was the worst of them and also “I don’t start sh*t but I can tell you how it ends” because she literally solved a murder so yeah oh AND and she also committed one and successfully framed it on someone else so

No Body, No Crime - pretty obvious but whatever~ Sheriff Hawkins also said “She (he in this case) thinks I did it but she (he) just can’t prove it” cause he was fr sus of her but it’s all good bc he is no match for Pip and Ravi’s human sized refrigerator

Run - this song is literally perfect for them “we shouldn’t be in this town” no one should murder town fr and this whole part “there’s a chain round your throat, piece of paper where I wrote, ‘I’ll wait for you’ there’s a key on the chain, there’s a picture in the frame, take it with you and run, run like you’d run from the law” like bffr it’s literally the end of as good as dead

Sparks Fly - I don’t even know but mostly the part where it’s like “meet me in the pouring rain, kiss me on the sidewalk take away the pain” actually happened but the rest of this song is irrelevant cus Ravi is not a bad idea at all

Right Where You Left Me - Sal & Andie ig? I just feel like this fits them even though we don’t know much about their relationship, but based off of what Ravi has said I think Sal is the “girl* who got frozen” because time literally went on for everybody else and he won’t know it- because he’s dead sooo

Better Than Revenge - this isn’t relevant at all to the book but I feel like just because of the title it needs to be on here

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things - Jason and Andie/Becca’s like relationship with him, kind of because he literally ruined every chance at having comfortable daughters because he was emotionally abusive, not to mention Andie knew he was literally a serial killer

Shake It Off - ok I know this song is kind of hated but just listen to me, “the haters gonna hate” “but baby I’m just gonna shake (x5) it off” is so pip because we all know how much hate she got after posting the podcasts, not to mention after supporting Stanley after his death

Innocent - STANLEY (except for the fact that he is not at all in comparison to Kanye but whatever) “Your string of lights are still bright to me” pip still respected him for who he was after finding out the truth about his past (that was like Ravi level deep)

Illicit Affairs - not meaning this in a like romantic sense at all so don’t come for me but just the “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby look at this godforsaken mess/idiotic fool that you made me” relates so much to Andie because Jason literally messed her up

Call It What You Want - Pip and Ravi because let’s be honest Ravi is the perfect everything if you disagree you are lying to yourself bc you know you will never get someone as good as Ravi lets be for real

This is Me Trying - Pip because it’s literally perfect for her “I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that” because in the end of as good as dead pip says she is worried that Ravi will have moved on from her which is obvious bs but yk that’s what she thought and basically the rest of the song but I’m lazy

Other ones I don’t want to explain

Out of the Woods

Closure

Getaway Car

Death By A Thousand Cuts

Oh my gosh I’m rereading this I say “literally” every sentence that’s so embarrassing omg bye

#taylor swift #agggtm #a good girls guide to murder #holly jackson #pip fitz amobi #pippa fitz amobi #books #booklr #ravi singh #pip and ravi #playlist #reading #as good as dead #good girl bad blood #taylornation

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bearsnub · 1 year

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diamant, in most ways, tries very hard to be a perfect prince. and often comes close to that perfect prince ideal! but after reading some of his supports (and particularly his wakeup events), ive found i quite enjoy the interpretation of him as a bit of a doof. especially in romance.

so to explore that, i drafted up a little drabble following one of his A support wakeup events with alear. enjoy, if you’d like! but be warned i am writing this at nearly 4 am and i have not proofread in the slightest LOL so i apologize if it’s rough.

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Warm afternoon sunlight streams into Alear’s bedroom, bathing the space in gold. Despite the late time of day, he lies upon his bed fast asleep. A gentle breeze blows through the sheer canopy draped around him, sending strands of red and blue hair dancing in front of his unconscious face.

It’s a perfect picture of peace… Except for the fact that he’s not alone.

Mere feet away from the Divine one’s slumbering form stands another man, similarly fast asleep. His arms are crossed against his chest and his head lolls to the side. His brunette and crimson hair also catch in the breeze, sweeping across his forehead. Diamant snores ever so softly, but it’s eventually enough to stir Alear awake.

The dragon’s eyes flutter open, and he takes a moment to register the room around him. He makes note of the sun in the sky and stretches, pulling himself up to an upright position. It was probably high time he got up.

As Alear pulls himself to a seated position on his bed, he comes face to face with the heir to the Brodian throne. The surprise makes him yelp, and he flinches backwards. Having successfully broken the peace in the otherwise quiet room, Diamant too begins to stir.

“D-Diamant?” Alear squeaks, a splash of color rising to his cheeks. It wasn’t unusual for him to awaken with someone in his bedroom, but never before had that person also been asleep…! How long could Diamant have been standing there?

“Ah, Divine One! You’re awake!” Diamant exclaims as he shakes off the final dregs of sleep. His eyes are wide as they meet Alear’s, his own face turning a shade more flush. A sheepish smile begins to pull on Diamant’s mouth and covers his face with a hand. “Looks like I nodded off…”

When he finally brings his hand back down, it comes to rest over his heart. His eyes shut tight, Diamant offers the Divine one a small bow. “Thanks for waking me,” he adds with a bit of an awkward pause.

Alear can’t help the soft smile that overtakes his own face. The Diamant he had met back in the beginning of the war was very different from the man standing before him now. The Diamant he had gotten to know so much better recently. The Diamant who was strong and brave, but gentle and kind, too. And clearly, a bit of a doof.

“Anytime,” Alear replies, his voice warm with affection. “I should probably start repaying you all for the favor, anyway.” He laughs a bit, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his head.

“Ah, that won’t be necessary,” Diamant assures with a laugh of his own. He trails off in a yawn, one he fails to stifle entirely, and Alear’s smile falls.

“Tired?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry yourself over me.” Despite Diamant’s reassurances, Alear’s frown persists. He knows all too well of the prince’s habit to stay up much too late into the wee hours of the evening with paperwork. Diamant was a caring and dedicated man. He worked hard for his kingdom, and in most cases, Alear found it incredibly admirable. But when it interfered with Diamant’s own well-being, he wasn’t so sure.

Alear regards Diamant carefully, pondering his next move. Then, without warning, he grabs onto the prince’s arm tightly.

“Divine- woah!” Diamant yelps as he’s yanked forwards. Relentless in his pulling, Alear manages to wrestle him onto the bed, and he falls besides the dragon. His shoulder eclipses Alear’s own, and once they both recover from their fit of giggles, they wiggle to readjust comfortably on their backs, arm to arm. The sound of sheets rustling makes Diamant turn his head and he comes face to face with the man beside him.

Alear’s mismatched eyes have always been a sight to behold for Diamant. It’s not often that he gets to gaze into them so closely. He soaks up the moment while he can.

“Hi,” Alear whispers in the small space between them. His breath puffs against Diamant’s face.

“Hello, Divine One,” Diamant returns, his own voice hushed. Unthinkingly, he brings a hand up to brush a few stray azure strands out of Alear’s face. The smile he reveals on the other’s face is gentle. Diamant’s heart, curiously, aches.

“How many times must I request you call me Alear, Diamant?”

“At least once more, Divine one. As always.” The prince feels something warm and soft prod at his hand. He opens it, allowing Alear’s fingers to intertwine with his own.

“…Alear,” Diamant says, after a time. It’s not a question. The dragon’s smile widens and he turns his head away momentarily, his cheeks a beautiful pink.

“Diamant. You should rest.” Alear’s tone is laced with concern, and Diamant frowns.

“I couldn’t. I came in here originally to wake you, after all.” How could he possibly get a wink of sleep when there was so much to be done? …Never mind that he had nodded off mere minutes ago. Better yet: how could he possibly calm his racing heart enough while lying here to fall asleep?

The sheets shift once again as Alear turns onto his side to better face the prince. With the bit of height leverage he has now, he stares down at Diamant disapprovingly. “I won’t take no for an answer,” Alear warns. The surprised look he receives brings a playful smile to his face.

“I…Um,” Diamant flounders for a response, his face beginning to burn. He had not been prepared for a response like that. Alear laughs again, and the melodic sound makes his heart skip a beat. The dragon’s thumb begins to trace soft patterns along Diamant’s hand. He thinks he might finally understand the phrase “butterflies in your stomach” as he lies here, hanging off Alear’s every word and move.

Alear shifts ever so slightly closer, until his face leans directly over Diamant’s own. Distantly, he wonders how the dragon doesn’t hear his thundering heartbeat. Or maybe he does. It’s the last clear thought he has before Alear’s mouth meets his own, and nothing else matters.

Alear kisses him gently, heartachingly sweet, and his mind goes blissfully empty. The paperwork that had been nagging at him in the back of his mind was forgotten, his focus directed solely to the task at hand. With his free hand, Diamant’s fingers find their way to brush along Alear’s jaw, earning a satisfied sigh from the other man.

The moment is brief. Alear pulls away much to soon after he started it, Diamant’s hand hovering in the air as he backs away. But it’s done the trick. His thoughts are now of Alear alone, and the thrumming affection in his chest.

“Rest now,” Alear murmurs, leaning down to place one more soft kiss against his temple. As a final bribe to get Diamant to stay, he worms his way down besides him, resting his head against Diamant’s chest.

Diamant unthinkingly responds in kind, the hand not currently occupied by Alear’s wrapping around around the other man. It’s easy. Natural. Like breathing. He finds that sleep, when they are like this, actually comes easy too.

Diamant’s last thought before he slips into the comforting lull of slumber being that hopes they’ll do this again soon.

#dialear #diamant x alear #alear x diamant #i plan to fix this up and post it on ao3 at some point #I just got in my feelings writing this a bit and wanted to push it out HDJFKDMD I’m sorry.#this uses male alear btw #FLUFF THERAPY YIPPEE :’D

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