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#what the rest of the table were all talking about. and just to like be acknowledged
hedgehog-moss · 2 days
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The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances
You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.
CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)
CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.
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DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.
LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)
The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.
DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.
IN CONCLUSION.
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lecl3rcw · 2 days
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KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | leclerc brothers x reader
_______________________
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the fucking night in Monaco? You better have a good ass reason too wake me up” Arthur groaned at his twin as he groggily.
“You won’t believe it.” She says
“What?”
“THE BENGALS INVITED ME TO THEIR GAME” she says, a sudden burst of excitement ran through her
“Who are the bengals again?” He sighs
“….”
“Oh wait, it’s that one dude you like, what was his name again Joe Burrow?”
“YEAH AND GET THIS, I can bring up to 5 people, so you’re coming and so are Charles, Alex, Lorenzo and Maman” she says excitedly.
“Who says I’m going?” He says, earning himself a scowl.
“You don’t want to come?” She says, “well I mean not really”
“Ofcourse you don’t! I always show up for your events and you never show up for mine” she says, maliciousness lacing her tone.
“Y/N please, this isn’t your event, you’re not walking the runway or attending a premiere” he says, his tone now matching hers.
“Well even if I was, not like you’d show up anyways” she mutters.
“What are you yapping about? You’re being so dramatic, I mean not everything revolves around you okay? Some of us have actual problems” he says giving the final blow.
The girl takes a deep breath to collect her self. All her life she had spent living in the shadows of her siblings. She just wanted someone to show up for her, she remembers her first runway show, she had 4 seats reserved for her family yet when she walked out, all 4 of those chairs were empty, why? Because Charles had a last minute deals with a brand. They called and apologized and Ofcourse she put a brave face on, but only the walls of her room heard the way she cried herself to sleep that night.
“You know what? I’m going to let that slide, I don’t know what’s going on with you but I hope you make peace with yourself, and you don’t have to come, I’ll just ask Charles and Enzo. But anyways goodnight” she says
“Y/N-” Arthur tries to interrupt but she hangs up before he can say anything.
Had she overreacted? She felt a sudden rush of guilt overcome her. She couldn’t help but overthink. Her train of thoughts were interrupted by a FaceTime call from her brother's girlfriend.
"Hey babygirl" Alexandra says, "Hey bae, what's up?" she says propping her phone up on the table.
“Just checking in with you and your man situation” Alex says, her and Charles were in the Maldives, “oh it’s good, I got invited to the bengals game so” she replies, “WAIT THATS SO GOOD” Alex says excitedly, Y/N smiles.
“Do you and Charles want to come with me?” She asks hopeful, “well Charles will be preparing for his race but I can definitely come!! When is it?” She asks, “next week!”
“Oh yeah I can definitely make it!” She says,
“Ok we can fly together!! But I I’ll see you next week love ya!” She says hanging up.
The week came even before she could blink.
“So Y/N you excited?” Alexandra says, and Y/N nods.
When they arrive at the stadium, Y/N is immediately greeted by the bengals team.
“Thankyou so much for being our guest, I’m the head coach Zac Taylor” a man says reaching his hand to which she smiles and accepts.
“This is my friend Alexandra!” She says as Alex also shakes his hand, from the corner of her eye, Y/N could feel a certain pair of blue eyes stare at her, and her cheek flushed more.
She waves to the rest of the team, however the man with blue eyes seems to approach her first. “Hey, my name is Joe, I’m the quarterback” he says extending his hand, “I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what that it” Y/N chuckles shaking his hand which caused him to smile.
“Well if you umm give me your number maybe some time could teach you about football” he says very smoothly, which causes her to get flustered.
“Oh yeah, d-definitely! Here” she says giving him her number as he smiles, “you have such a beautiful smile” Joe says bringing up her hand to his lips before letting it go, “I’ll talk to you later” he says waving before going to get ready for his game. She just stands there in shock wondering what happened.
Alexandra squeals, “I saw that!! Y/N he so likes you” she says hugging the girl.
Y/N laughs and shakes her head, but the whole time she couldn’t take her eyes of him.
joeyb_9 started following you
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y/n.leclerc
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y/n.leclerc modeling for Dior has always been a dream of mine, so thankful to take this huge step into my career with the most amazing photographers, stylists, and makeup artists🫶🏻
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, joeyb_9, charles_leclerc, and 13,000,000 others
alexandrasaintmleux mami😍
^ y/n.leclerc kiss me rn😍
charles_leclerc alex has been staring at the phone for the past 15 minutes….
^ y/n.leclerc sounds like a you problem bud😪
fan1 NOT JOE BURROW LIKING?!!?!
^ fan2 IK HE NEVER LIKES
joeburrowswife idk I don’t see the hype
^ y/n2fine yet she’s pulling your “man”
rachelzegler welcome to the squad Y/N❤️
^ y/n.leclerc Thankyou rach💕🥹
bellahadid weird way to propose but yes😍
^ y/n.leclerc SHE SAID YES YALL💍👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
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cupid-styles · 1 day
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a helping hand*
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in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.
word count: 3.3k
content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)
this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 
“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”
“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”
He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 
“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”
“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”
“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”
“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Harry…”
“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 
“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”
“There could be.”
She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 
At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 
He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 
Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.
(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)
Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 
She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.
(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)
Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.
The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.
Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 
It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 
Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 
Until now. 
Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.
“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.
“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”
“Just spit it out, blossom.”
She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”
“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”
Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 
Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.
“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”
Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 
“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”
“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”
She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”
His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”
“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”
“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”
“So how long has it been?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.
“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”
“Six months?!”
The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 
“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”
“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 
“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”
“They should be, Y/N.”
With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 
“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”
His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 
“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”
Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”
Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.
“If you wanted me to be.”
She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 
“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”
He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”
. . .
A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?
In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 
He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 
At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?
He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 
Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.
He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 
I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.
Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.
Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 
“Hello?”
She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.
“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”
“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 
Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 
“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”
She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 
“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”
“What were you watching?”
“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”
“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 
A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”
“What’s hot about it for you?”
He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 
“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”
“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”
It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.
“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”
“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”
Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 
“Well, now you are.”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.
“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.
“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”
Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.
“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”
“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”
A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 
“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”
Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”
On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 
“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 
When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 
She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 
“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”
“Yeah? You finished?”
If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.
“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”
Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”
She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”
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brewed-pangolin · 3 days
Text
This brain worm has been bugging me all week.
MDNI 18+
Mechanic Soap who you meet at your local body shop in need of a quick repair to your car's door. It's a hefty dint, needing structural repair and a few layers of paint. You know this and are prepared to face the irrefutable mumblings of a man who thinks you to be just some typical dumb blonde.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't beat around the bush, tells you as is that it'll take a few days to repair the inner framework and add the required layers of paint to make it seamless to the rest of the vehicle.
Mechanic Soap already meeting your standards in someone who doesn't see you as just some woman who doesn't know what she's talking about. Willing to go over, in an overly detailed manner, the mechancis and functionality of the repair and necessities to fulfill such a task.
Mechanic Soap who makes you spill out that you have a vintage '68 Shelby Fastback in your garage that you've been painstakingly putting back together. Peaking his interest while he goes over the cost of the door mend, mindlessly mumbling that he'd be willing to assist in said vintage restoration if you'd let him.
Mechanic Soap who starts hanging around your garage all hours of the day as he tends to the intricacies and overly detailed rehabilitation that had taken you years to achieve. Effortlessly bringing the rusted frame of the muscle car to life, the chassis glistening in the afternoon light as you do your best to attend to his needs while not gawking at his expert hand.
Mechanic Soap who asks for nothing in return for working on such a classic in vehicular engineering. Yet you shower him in nothing but your best of culinary skills. Feeding him after a days work with such delicacies that only a skilled baker could attain.
Mechanic Soap who starts staying hours after the sun had set beyond the horizon, making his way into the intimacy of your home as you regularly extended an invitation for him stay for dinner. Infiltrating your daily life in a way you had never dreamed. Pleading for him to keep you company as weeks steadily turned to months of courting.
Mechanic Soap who shows just how eager he is by splaying you out on your bed. Working you into a pleasured mess on his fingers and tongue before tearing his clothes away to finally bestow you a more thorough experience. His unending stamina on full display as he contorts you into every position known to man. And a few you had never even heard of. Using his well-earned physique to his advantage, pushing you to the limits of ecstasy and more than likely earning a fee noise complaints from your neighbors.
-
Mechanic Soap who finally displays his unending talents as he worked his calloused hands over your voluptuous curves. Kneading into your supple flesh as he spread you open to finally take in the feast he had been so desperate to taste. Lapping his tongue between your folds, focusing on your pulsing bud as you writhe in pleasure beneath his expert grasp.
Mechanic Soap who now makes you breakfast every morning before you go to work. Always has the coffee ready, mixed with your favorite creamer and lunch waiting on the table. Sending you off onto your day with a smile that could light up a whole city, and a peck on the cheek that stays with you for the entirety of your day.
Mechanic Soap who came into your life by accident but has now permanently etched himself into your daily routine. You can't recall what your days were like before him, and you dared not imagine them without him.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't buy you a wedding ring. He forges one from the metal bearings of a camshaft. The sparklng gem at the centerpiece is an expertly crafted piece of iron ore, polished and etched to a glistening surface that shines with an iridescence like no other.
Mechanic Soap who doesn't marry you at the altar. He proclaims his vows at a local pub in Glasgow. Whisking you away for a honeymoon in the Scottish highlands where he treats you like a Scottish queen and worships the very ground you walk on.
A happy accident that turned into a life of unending royalties, and you're in no mind to ever want to remove the crown he so helplessly placed on top of your pretty little head.
This is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But I had to get it out. Thanks for reading my mindless rambles.
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mauvecherie-writes · 23 hours
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duality: l.hamilton
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pairing: lewis hamilton x black journalist!reader
summary: it’s two years on since and then a lot about your dynamic has changed. things are official and everyone is still none the wiser …
tags: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, extremely sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, dom/sub elements, spit, choking, some slight edging, aftercare.
w.c: 4.5K
reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @emjayewrites @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @angelinaevans @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew
previous part: super soaker.
Your friends loved a good gossip session and tonight’s topic as you sat in the exclusive club ‘Lounge 418’ was who had the best dick game in Hollywood. You had very little input considering you were still reaching the heights of your popularity as a journalist and you barely paid attention to the couple of men who had tried to get some type of access to you and it was going to be denied each time.
“The athletes though.” Marie smirked as the rest of the table hummed in agreement. “The toxicity adds a little sweetness to it.” She added which caused you to giggle. Chanel turned her body to face yours.
“Aren’t they all in your DM’s anyway? A fine ass woman talking about them in detail. I know that gives them an ego boost.”
It does. they messaged you all the time, wanting to quiz your knowledge in person. An arrogance that annoyed the hell out of you so you never replied. The only one who ever caught your eye was Lewis and it worked in his favour because he approached you accordingly. You had posted a podcast episode recapping on the events of his race in Brazil in 2021. As a long time fan of his - that was the race that sparked your love for him all over again.
The way you had spoken so passionately about him and his career, defending his right to the championship. Lewis had sent you a message thanking you for your support. It was short and sweet but your crush on him drove you to give him an answer then everything snow balled from there. That one episode changed your life for the next two and a half years.
When your relationship initially began, it was strictly casual sex but things got intense pretty quickly and the NDA was scrapped when things became more official between you. However, the both of you loved and respected each other’s privacy thus no one, even your closest friends knew.
So lost within your mind, you had forgotten that you were the focus of the conversation until Lewis’s sport was mentioned, your head snapped upwards.
“What about that F1 guy you’re obsessed with?”
Your cheeks warmed as a sense of bashfulness filled you. “What about him?”
“Has he ever slid into your DM’s?”
“I mean…” You shrugged your shoulders as you sipped on your French 75. “He was pretty chill and he was thanking me for my support for him for my podcast episode.”
“And that was it?” Marie raised her eyebrow and a small smirk playing on her face.
“We spoke here and there but that was about it.” You replied, trying to keep it as vague as possible. You remembered how flirty he was and how you had gravitated towards him. Your crush did quite a chunk of heavy lifting but Lewis was a natural charmer and he invoked feelings within you that had thought were gone. He brought them out and they haven’t dissipated since.
“He just looks like an absolute sweetheart. I don’t think he’d be that freaky though - seems like the vanilla type.” Your friend Vanessa commented. “Not that there's anything wrong with Vanilla.” She added.
“Nah, I say it’s the sweethearts you need to be on the lookout for. One minute, they’re feeding your strawberries and the next, they’re eating your pussy from the back and their thumb slipping into your ass.”
“That was oddly specific Marie.” Chanel raised her eyebrow with a grimace which caused all of you to burst out laughing. You hid your face behind your glass with a smile on your face.
As the alcohol flowed so did the topics and Lewis was no longer a focus which caused you to relax. You were beginning to think about him too much even though you had been with him in the morning before he left.
Then your phone buzzed in your bag. You placed your drink down and took your phone out and a message notification was on the screen.
🏎️💨: I see you.
You looked up from your phone and tried to search the crowds in the lounge but it was too dimly lit.
You: Lol okay, Mr Creeper. Where do you see me from?
🏎️💨: I’m a few tables ahead of you to the right. I saw trying to look for me. I’m in the blue cap with the TH tracksuit.
As soon as you read the description of his appearance, you quickly spotted him and you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. His attempts at disguising himself in public were always terrible and him dressed top to bottom in a Tommy Hilfiger two piece was certainly not doing him any favours.
You: You are terrible at hiding yourself lol. You’re staring right at me.
You: Also, what are you doing here??? I thought you were having a quiet night until I came to your place.
🏎️💨: The boys dragged me out. They say I haven’t been out in a while. I didn’t know we were on our way here until we were outside.
🏎️💨: Come and say hi.
“Who are you texting that’s making you smile like that?” Marie as she tried to snoop, looking down at your phone. You quickly locked your screen and placed your phone back into your bag.
“Nobody.” You smiled at her as you got up. Smiling at everyone, “I just saw someone, I’m gonna say go say hi and I’ll be back.”
Your friends watched you as you walked away from your table, their eyes widening when they see the men sitting at the table.
As you drew closer, your smile could not be stopped as you saw him sitting there on top of the booth, his legs spread. You could spot his rainbow coloured pearl necklace from the top of the track jacket.
With a small wave to the other men, you made it in front of Lewis, standing in between his legs.
“You look good enough to eat.” He mumbled in your ear as you hugged him.
“You look good too.” You replied with a soft giggle. His head turned slightly into your neck and placed a kiss in the depression of your collarbone through the fabric of your top.
Your sweet spot.
You almost moaned but your will power compelled you to pull away.
“Are you allowed to hug me like that in public?” You softly asked him.
“Anything I say goes and I wanted that hug. I haven’t seen you since this morning.” He licked his lips as he let his eyes fall down to your midriff. It was like he could see himself back in your bed this morning. You tapped his thigh so he could focus on your face instead and once he held your gaze and sighed, you rolled your eyes.
“Always in the gutter.” You commented.
“You’re in there with me.” He threw back at you with a smirk. With his grip on your forearm, he pulled you closer in between his legs. Feeling his warmth had you taking a deep breath as he stared at you without word.
“So what’s on the agenda? Everyone’s looking at us, they’re gonna pick up on it.”
“It’s been two years, let them speculate.”
“You know now that I’ve seen you, I just want to leave now and my girls are gonna ask questions.”
“Tell them what you want.” He said. “In about thirty minutes, you’re gonna meet me out front and we’ll go back to my place.”
“What are we doing at your place?” You asked as you played with his zipper.
“You’ll find out when we get there but make sure you book a hair appointment soon.”
“Jesus Christ.” You breathed out as you let his words sink into your bones.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay … Sir.”
“Good girl.”
God, the urge to kiss him was strong within you but instead you pulled away from him and got back to reality. You patted his chest before you finally withdrew and went back to your table.
“What in the hell was that?!” Chanel exclaimed. “You were trying to play coy with us but you knew that Lewis Hamilton was going to be here?!”
“Yeah, friends my ass.” Vanessa snickered
“First of all, I didn’t know he was going to be here.” You spoke as you reached for the bottle of fresh champagne on the table.
“Was he the one messaging you?” “Is this the first time you’ve seen him in a social setting?” “Girl what the hell was that? Y’all were all up on each other?!” “Yeah, what was that about?”
“What is with all these damn questions?” You tried to laugh them off and focused on drinking. All your friends narrowed their eyes at you.
“This is not over.” Maria pointed at you.
“Whatever.” You playfully smacked her hand away from your direction. And for the next thirty minutes, you had tried to focus back your attention on your friends but since talking to Lewis, your body was riddled with anticipation.
Not wanting to wait any longer, you quickly said your goodbyes, they playfully jeered you as you walked away. You rolled your eyes laughing at their remarks. When you got outside, Lewis’s bodyguard was waiting outside of his truck to open the door for you.
You greeted him softly as you slid into the truck and sat yourself beside your boyfriend, who placed a light kiss on your cheek. You melted into the side of his body as you rode from the lounge to his property.
When you got up to his penthouse, you were in awe of the interior design. You especially loved his floor to ceiling windows that gave you the most perfect view of the New York skyline. Your toes wiggled against the heated floors as you had taken your heels off the moment you entered his home.
You were standing by the window when Lewis came behind you, holding a small glass of wine.
“You always said that you’d wanted to taste one of my wines from my infamous wine fridge.”
“I always found it interesting that you’re not much of a drinker but every home you own has a wine fridge and a small bar.”
“I like the aesthetic of it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I can’t cater to the people around me who do.”
You took a sip of the beverage and you almost moaned at the richness of the wine hitting your tastebuds. You had always been a wine snob and Lewis indulged in your tastes by buying you expensive wines that you wouldn’t even think of.
“I can’t believe you got me a bottle of Burgundy.”
“You’d been raving about it for a week when you saw that it was being auctioned. Personally I don’t see what the fuss is about.” His last comment caused you to laugh. The bottle was a Chateau Latour from 1984, matured for forty years and you had wanted it since your first big paycheck. The bottle being auctioned was a blessing in disguise but you always talked yourself out actually spending close to £500 for it.
Lewis bought it for you without a blink.
You took another sip, a larger one than the last.
“It has very intense notes. It’s herby but has a lot of fruity notes coming to the top. Black cherries and blackberries is what I taste the most but it leaves an earthy note when it’s done.”
“You sound so hot when you talk like that.” Lewis softly groaned which caused you to blush. You placed the nearly empty wine glass down as he encroached into your personal space. You tried to ignore the way that he was staring you down which was causing your heart to beat incredibly fast. You had always reacted like this to him and you honestly thought that was never going to change.
You licked your lips as he cupped your cheeks in his hands and caressed your skin with his thumbs.
“I just love hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about.” He traced your bottom lip with his thumb as he dropped one of his hands to your waist and pulled you into his body.
“Thank you.” You whispered, admiring his beauty up close. You loved the small beauty spot that sat high on his cheekbone and the double nose piercings with diamonds that caught the light from all angles. His lashes were long and curled and as he looked at you - they seemed to be touching his cheeks.
“Want a taste of the wine?” You asked with a little smirk on your lips as Lewis moved his hand to the back of your head.
“Yeah, give me a taste.” He mumbled before he leaned down and captured your mouth. Lewis moaned softly as he savoured the residue of the wine still on your lips. You couldn’t move your head much as he had moved his hands to cup your face in his palms as he controlled the kiss. You melted into his hold, silently begging for more as you held onto his wrists trying to stabilise yourself.
You nibbled on his bottom lip which caused him to growl, he walked you backwards until you were pressed into the window behind you. Finally, he moved his hands away from your face and trailed them down your body and gripped you as you wrestled with his tongue. His hands dipped into the hem of your skirt until one of his fingers hooked on your thong.
“Can we move to the bedroom?” You whispered as Lewis kissed down the length of your neck. Your fingers moved to his hair, tugging on his braids as his tongue licked on your pretty brown skin.
“No one can see you from up here.” He said as he licked on your earlobe before sucking on it.
“Maybe next time but I want you to take me on your bed.”
“You want me to fuck you into my mattress is that it?”
“Yes.” You gasped at his words and then he picked you up in his arms and began walking towards the bedroom. You capture his lips again - in a far more frantic manner as you clawed at his clothes, begging him to take them off. He threw you onto his king sized bed and then discarded his jacket and white vest.
“Take it all off.” He commanded you which caused you to whimper. You stripped out of your clothes until you were left in just your thong and before you could pull them down, Lewis pulled you towards him by your ankle, squealing as he dragged you. Your back settled down onto the bed as Lewis positioned himself in between your legs and pulled your thongs away from your cunt.
Lewis felt you tremble as he parted your folds with his fingers, teasing them as he watched you react to his touch.
“I always tell you this but you have such a pretty pussy sweetheart.”
“And you love playing with my pretty pussy.”
“Yeah I do. I’m gonna play with you and make you feel so good until I’ve had enough.” You moaned at his words and thrusted your pussy into his face. Lewis chuckled at your desperation, pressing the pad of his thumb on your clit.
“How bad do you want it?” He asked you as you took off your underwear completely.
“I want it so bad baby.” You replied as he got onto his knees and placed your legs on his shoulders. “Please.” You pleaded.
“Ugh.” Lewis groaned. “I love it when you get like this. So needy before I even touch you.” He turned his head to place kisses on the inner of your thighs.
“Because you love teasing me until I can’t take it.” He smirked at you right before he buried his head in your thighs. The first burst of your small whimpers left you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and softly sucked it into his mouth. Your hands quickly found their way into your hair, tugging on the strands as he sucked on your sensitive bud. His eyes moved upward to meet yours that were already looking down at him. Lewis’s gaze was so intense as he caught your every reaction.
Shaky breaths left you as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your nub. Your sweetness trickled into his mouth, dipping the muscle into your cunt. You squirmed in his arms as he continued giving you slow strokes of his tongue before changing the motion into a suction.
“Oh shit!” You gasped as you jerked up to your elbows and pushed the back of your heels into his muscled, tattooed back. Lewis softly groaned against you as his cock strained in his pants.
“Just like that.” You moaned as you pulled on the covers beneath you as you rolled your hips into his mouth. Just as your orgasm was on the eclipse, he pulled away from you and your sound of despair was music to his ears as he grabbed a strip of condoms from the bedside table and he threw them beside you on the bed.
“I hate it when you stop just as I’m about to cum.” You whined as you watched him cover his dick with the condom.
“I know sweetheart but tonight, I only want to feel you cumming on me.” He told you as he traced your opening with the tip of his cock as he crowded your body from above. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hiked your legs to his waist. Lewis leaned down and pressed a searing kiss onto your lips, you hummed into his mouth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
He slowly slid inside.
“Fuck.” The both of you sighed. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he slid further into your cunt. Your lips brushed against each other as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of you as you continued to adjust to the stretch. Two years on and you still took a little time to accommodate him.
He placed a kiss on your hairline as he whispered sweet words in your ear. “Always tight and sweet for me.” You whimpered at his words as you tried to push your hips up to encourage him to pick up speed but all he did was put his hands in the crook of your knees, pushing them down. From the new position, his chains were dangling down into your face.
“Baby.” You called him.
“Yeah baby?”
“Don’t go sweet on me. I need you.” His strokes were slow, building his momentum but hearing you say that made his jaw clench. He’d always tried to be gentle with you never really letting his mask slip but there were times before where he had given you a taste and you craved for Lewis to let go of his inhibition.
“I’ll ruin you sweetheart. I’ll ruin you for good.” He mumbled as he pecked your lips.
“I’m yours. Do what you want to me.”
Lewis let your words wash over you and they made him buckle. He dropped his forehead onto yours with his eyes closed.
“Do you know the traffic light system?” He asked you and you quickly nodded your head in response.”
“Green means go, amber is slow down and red is stop.”
“Good girl.” He hummed, giving you one more kiss. “I still want a safe word.”
“Burgundy.” You shot out an answer which caused him to smirk.
“That’s my girl.” He sat up but he was still holding you down as he angled his hips and hit your spot at a different angle. Your breath ceased, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he began to focus on that same spot - thrusting into you hard and fast. Your walls tightly clenched around him, strangling his cock as your body was swept in pleasure. Because of the previous build up, your orgasm was quickly rising.
He could feel your warmth and wetness through the sheath of the latex and for the umpteenth time, his mind wandered to how you’d feel without the barrier in between you. His knees were already buckling , he knew without the condom, he’d crumble. However, he had to focus. Your moans were calling out to him, your hand was pressing at his abdomen to try and relieve some of the pressure but he wasn’t going to let up.
He would get you right to the edge, get your legs shaking before he would stop. Edging you over and over until you were begging with tears trailing down the sides of your face.
“Please, please, please, please.” You rambled as you thrashed your head around, completely overwhelmed with your nerves being overshot by his actions and his dick pushing deeper inside of you. Your eyes were closed as you tried to regulate your breathing to focus on not climaxing.
“Open your eyes baby.” Lewis grabbed your cheeks, the pain of his blunt nails digging into your skin forced you to open your eyes. “There you go. I need you to keep looking at me as I fuck you stupid.”
He hiked up your right leg to his shoulder as he picked up his pace, pounding into you harder and faster.
“Lewis!” You exclaimed his name as your back arched off the bed, gasping for air as his hips snapped harshly against your skin. He loved the way his name fell from your lips, the best music to his ears. “Right there baby!”
“Open your mouth.” He demanded and you promptly let your mouth part. He hovered above you and let some spit drop into your mouth. You whimpered as you quickly swallowed and showed him your tongue to show him that you’d done it.
“That’s my good girl.” He smiled at you and then wiped your bottom lip, smudging the last of your lipstick. His fingers were so close and you took them into your mouth, sucking on them causing his rhythm to stutter. He pushed his fingers a little bit further into your mouth which caused you to gag a little bit and you kept sucking on his digits.
You have a thing for choking and he’d picked up on that but hadn’t really done much to play with you until now. Lewis took his fingers out of your mouth and brought them to your neck and applied just enough pressure to make your walls clamp up around him. You squeezed your eyes closed as more tears came - you couldn’t hold back anymore, our body was begging for release and Lewis continued with his teasing.
“Hold your legs up.” He told you and when your arms hooked around your trembling thighs, Lewis bent his body so that his head was closer to your chest and took a nipple into his mouth. He grazed your areola with his teeth before sucking on your nipple causing your walls to quiver around his dick.
Even without words, Lewis could feel your body crying for release. “My dirty, dirty girl. I can feel you milking my dick, just trying to take me for all my worth.” Using his weight to hold you down, one hand still around his neck and the other coming in between your bodies to pinch your clit before moving his fingers in swift and fast circles on your nub.
“This pretty pussy doesn’t want to let me go sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”
“I need to come.” Your lips were against his ear, his cold jewellery touching your warm, flushed skin. “Please let me come, Sir. Let me come for you.”
“What if I don’t want you to? What if I just want you right on the edge? Hm? What if it brings me pleasure edging you and watching you suffer?”
“Baby…”
“You can stop it now. Just give me the word and I’ll end it all right now.”
You shook your head. “Don’t stop.”
Lewis then shifted your position yet again, this time with your knees now on each side of your head. He began fucking you harder than before which left you incoherent, begging and pleading for any and everything.
Your juices were drenching the both of you and with each thrust, the slapping of wet skin caused an echo to carry across the room.
“I’m gonna come!” You inhaled sharply as your chest heaved for air. Lewis placed a kiss onto the back of your leg.
“Come for me baby. Wanna feel you drench my dick.” His words broke the dam. Your whole body was set ablaze as your orgasm consumed your body as you called out his name in a desperate cry. Lewis dropped his head into the crook of your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth as he fucks you through the climax.
His thrusts became irregular and sloppy until he was moaning against your flesh as he erupted into the condom. You held onto each other as the both of you tried to control your breathing. Your bodies were covered in sweat and the stickiness of your fluids in between your legs.
Your body was still vibrating from the intensity of your orgasm. “I can’t feel my legs.” You mumbled in his ear causing Lewis to chuckle. He turned his head and kissed along your jawline before capturing your lips into a soft kiss.
“Did I hurt you baby?”
“In all of the best ways.” You smiled against his lips. “One of the best orgasms you’ve ever given me.”
“One of many.”
“God, I love you.” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to move away from the bed and towards the bathroom. He sat you on the counter of the sink as he walked to the bathtub to fill it with water before coming back to you.
He parted your legs and grabbed a wet rag and began wiping you down. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you baby?” The marks of his touch were beginning to show on your skin and the concern in his tone made you swoon. You placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at you.
“I’m fine baby, I swear. I still feel like you’re holding back on me.” You replied.
“It’s our first time venturing into that type of play. I don’t want to overwhelm you just yet. Things tonight were already intense so we need to be careful about that.”
“Hmmm.” You hummed as your walls clenched around nothing and your nipples began to tighten. “God, I love it when you talk to me like that.”
Lewis smirked down at you before leaning forward and kissing you once more. “I take being a dom very seriously. You’re my girl and I love you so I have to be extra cautious.”
“Are you finally going to make me yours completely?”
“You already are, sweetheart, I don’t need to dominate you to prove that.” He licked his lips before picking you up and walking you to the tub.
“No, but it would be nice.” Your answer caused him to laugh as he settled the both of you in the warm water. Your body was sore in all of the right places and here you were in the arms of the same man who brought you the sinful pleasure and now the most tender affection.
The duality of his love.
ru’s letters 💌: I cannot believe that this was sitting in my drafts for two years. I did some adjustments for it to be a sequel and instead of a prequel. Hope you loved it my angels 😘.
edit: thinking of doing a final part for this where we fully explore Lewis in a full Dom mode. Let me know what you think 🫶🏾
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alexias-putellas · 13 hours
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girlfriend // l.wälti x reader
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l.wälti x reader
based on this request! ft an oc so apologies if your name is actually ava 😅😅 it’s not a long one but i wanted to get something out for you all since i’m feeling a little better <3
-
you scowled into your glass, rolling your eyes at beth’s pathetic attempt at concealing her laughter. leah’s hand was on lia’s arm again and when the blonde smirked at you, you had half a mind to throw your glass at her stupid face.
“you wouldn’t feel like this if you just asked her out.” beth said and you whipped your head around to look at her.
“why would i ask her out?”
”why would you ask her out?” beth scoffed and you were almost offended at how stupid she made you sound. “maybe because you fancy her and she fancies you.”
“yeah,” you snorted, motioning to lia and leah again. “sure looks like it.”
“leah’s just pissing you off, you know that nothing’s going on with them.”
you rolled your eyes again. beth was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. you’d seen the speculation from fans and whilst most of it was funny, some of it did bother you.
“here,” steph shoved a different drink into your hand as she dropped into the seat next to yours. “that’ll cheer you up.”
“ugh, i am not in a mood!”
both beth and steph gave you a look and you sighed, slumping back into your seat. suddenly drinking with the girls was a terrible idea. even more so when you looked back up to see lia and leah mere inches from each other.
“you know what? i think i’m gonna go,” you stood, gathering your things quickly, waving off the attempts at getting you to stay. “no, honestly, i’m pretty tired. i’ll see you both at training.”
you somehow managed to escape the pub without any more of a fuss and decided to forego your usual after-drinking meal and head straight home, your appetite suddenly lost.
ᡣ𐭩
how the girls managed to get you back into a pub a few days later you didn’t know. you must’ve said no a million times but yet there you were, glaring daggers at leah once again. who in your opinion was sitting far too close to lia. with a heaved sigh, you made your way over to the bar.
“the other one is a lot nicer.” someone said next to you and you hummed in confusion, glancing down at your drink before turning to them.
you found yourself face to face with a fairly attractive girl who couldn’t have been much older than you and you blushed under her intense gaze. “i’ve never actually tried it.”
“well we can’t have that,” she grinned at you before waving down a bartender. “i’m ava by the way.”
you just about managed to splutter out your own name before she was handing you a bottle, hitting the bottom of it slightly to encourage you to drink it.
she wasn’t wrong about the flavour. the one she’d ordered was a lot nice than the one you chose and you were quick to let her know.
had you been paying attention to your incredibly nosy teammates, you’d have noticed the way steph and beth were nudging each other and doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that they were talking about you. of course that caught the attention of your other teammates and soon you had an audience.
but lia wasn’t happy. she watched with a frown as you laughed at something the stranger said, your head falling back as you gripped onto the bar so you wouldn’t fall.
the brunette’s eyes were stuck on the two of you and she grew a little giddy when it looked like the conversation had ended but for some reason you were bringing the stranger over to the table.
“hey guys, this is ava,” you said, guiding the stranger—ava to the only spare seats. “she’s actually a huge fan.”
you and ava ended up in the seats between lia and jen and much to the swiss woman’s dismay, ava was as kind and funny as she was pretty. and the other girls seemed to really like her.
ava was answering one of jordan’s questions when you felt something brush against your thigh. you glanced down, seeing lia’s hand resting on your chair.
it wasn’t long before it founds its way onto your thigh. if ava noticed she didn’t say anything.
after a few more drinks, one of the girls suggested that you all relocated to the club down the road. of course nobody had objections and as soon as you’d entered the building, you were being pulled up to dance by katie and you were quick to grab ava’s wrist, the three of you heading over to the crowded dance floor.
you briefly noticed some of the other girls dotted around but katie was twirling you before you could do anything.
you were thankful that the lights were able to hide your flushed face as ava caught you in her arms. you watched as she glanced behind her, her grip loosening ever so slightly. if you hadn’t had that last drink, you probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. but leah was handing you a shot and all was forgotten.
for a while anyway.
you soon found yourself dragging ava into the toilets and whilst you weren’t expecting anything to happen, you were still a little disappointed that nothing did.
“i think i’m gonna go.” ava said loudly as you washed your hands, looking at her with furrowed brows.
“why?”
“your girlfriend is scary.”
“lia’s not my girlfriend.”
ava’s eyebrow quirked and you felt your face flush again, the clear lights doing nothing in your favour. “funny that you knew who i was talking about.”
“seriously though, she’s not.”
“could’ve fooled me,” ava shrugged. “it’s clear that she wants to be and i’m guessing you feel the same.”
“oh my—what is happening right now?” you whispered to yourself, quickly drying your hands on your dress. “i thought we were going to hook up but now you’re trying to hook me up with lia.”
there was a flash of something on ava’s face but you caught it, eyes narrowing as she laughed somewhat nervously. “stranger things have happened in this club i imagine.”
“yeah, no—which one of them put you up to this?”
ava sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “leah and beth.”
“both of them? can’t say i’m surprised,” you shook your head. “well ava, it’s been a pleasure to meet you anyway and i’ve actually had a really good night.”
“me too,” ava nodded in agreement whilst glancing at the door behind you. “now go get your girl.”
whilst that was something you wanted to do, part of you also wanted to see just how far your friends would go to get you and lia together.
you waved ava off and managed to find the girls, frowning when they appeared to be gathering their stuff to leave. you could hear katie calling them boring as she downed the rest of her drink.
her arm was quickly thrown around your shoulder and you were yanked into her side. this didn’t go unnoticed by lia.
“oh my god, katie, you’re so heavy get off!” you whined as you somehow made it outside, desperately glancing at the other girls for help. “you’re not even that drunk, get off!”
katie laughed as you struggled to push her off but eventually managed it. you glared at her, shoving her forward and ignoring the quip of be careful from beth.
you noticed that lia wasn’t there and glanced behind you to see her walking slowly, head facing the ground. you stood still, waiting until she was near you before speaking. “hey are you okay?”
lia looked up like a deer caught in headlights as she registered that it was you. in your head, you were so lost in the thought of telling her how you felt that you hadn’t noticed her standing right in front of you until her lips were on yours.
you melted into the kiss, stomach fluttering as her thumbs gently rubbed along the skin of your cheeks. when lia pulled away, you frowned a little, not ready for the moment to end just yet.
“why haven’t we done that before?” lia asked quietly.
“i’m not sure,” you whispered, glancing down at her lips. “but we should definitely do it again. and maybe some more tomorrow.”
and when lia’s lips met yours for another kiss, you made a mental note to profusely thank beth and leah for their annoyingly useful nosiness.
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fraugwinska · 1 day
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I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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j4ygyu · 1 day
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🫐 - jake! maybe about reader having some hardships during her pregnancy but baby daddy jake would be ready to do anything for her comfort !!
rejecting his kisses | sjy
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pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader
genre: fluff bro what else i write 😭😭
synopsis: reader is growing sensitive day by day to touches and snaps at jake, jake being a mature husband handles the situation well.
everything felt so much more overwhelming, jake kept a family dinner and everyone was over, his members and his family. 
“how are my babies doing?” jake said as he nuzzled his nose in your neck as you moved back in annoyance. 
oh he noticed it but shrugged it off, maybe it was just a silly reaction right?
the sound of everyone talking at the same time in their own conversation rings around in your ears making it hard for you to keep up with everything jake had his hands on you the whole day, hugging you from behind, talking to his friends and family with a hand on your bump, rubbing your nose agaisnt his, kissing your cheeks, lips and forehead. yeah sounds cute but not when you’re feeling everything a little too much. 
what is going on. 
it was so bad that you had to shut your room door so loud and settle on the bed, 
there you were, pregnant and finally on your thrid trimester with your annoying husband being extra touchy anywhere he could find you at.
rubbing your temples you sat on the bed, grabbed the water from the beside table and starting chugging it down. 
meanwhile, jake who already spotted your absensce in the living room came in “bub?” you heard his voice and your brain gave a reaction not again. 
he walks in as you don’t even dare to look at him in the eye, your eyes closed as you take deep breath. 
“did i do something” he leans over to your face while staring deep “no..” u say as he hums in question he sits beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “are you oka-“ you cut him off,
“no- just no- please okay? please just get your hands off of me please jake. stay away from me i am not feeling all your touches just leave me the fuck alone.” you say raising your voice. 
the next thing you see is tears in jake’s eyes as he looks away from you trying to hold them in. 
“i am sorry.” 
a moment of complete silence goes by as you rest your head on the headboard.
you notice him avoiding your looks and turning to the other side, hesitant to ask you if you need anything again.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks out of curiosity “i won’t touch you if—“
“no i dont know.. i am sorry i dont feel like getting touched i dont know.. i don’t know why i am being like this i don’t know” as you’re saying he turns around and comes closer to you.
attentively listening as he brings a hand to tug your hair strand back.
“hey no no it’s fine, its completely fine yeah, this is super normal for pregnant women to feel..” he says as tears start spilling from your eyes because of how understanding he is. 
jake has always put your perspective before his, always understanding everything you did, always finding a reason for your actions and letting you express yourself, god you think what did you do to deserve him. 
“b-but jake” you say as he holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks trying to calm you down.
“at this stage you’ve grown more sensitive. to touches to words to noises to everything” he says bringing his hands back to himself, “isn’t it?” 
you nod in agreement as he adds “so don’t ever blame yourself about all this okay? i love you just how it is. nothing will ever change that” 
you look at him and take his hand and place it on your belly, he makes sure to keep it exactly where you kept and not rub it because of muscle memory 
he pauses and lets out a little laugh as he feels the baby kicking where his arm is placed “just try not to be as aggressive as you were okay?” you nod once again as he kisses your cheeks wiping your tears off his lips. 
“baby doesn’t like hearing mum and dad argue does it?” he says as he feels another kick to his palm as you both laugh out of surprise. 
it makes you giggle, mood swings are crazy.
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luviemax · 2 days
Text
a dream with a football player- oneshot
a/n: loook who the cat dragged in (me), song inspo here
-> jude bellingham x female!reader, no physical descriptions of reader, all photos taken from pinterest
warnings: half smau and half fic, reader has a bsf named audrey who's obsessed w football, reader has a grandma, google translated spanish.... and lets just pretedn the photo at the end isn't from american football....
masterlist
yourspamaccount location: Valencia, Spain
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liked by: audreycore, friend1, friend2, and 12 others!
yourspamaccount: guys... i'm lowk tweaking rn... i had this dream with this super cute guy in it and i'm worried i'll NEVER find him again... #saveme... anyways i only have like a few more days at grandma's beach house so i'll make the most of it while i'm still here ig :(
audreycore: DON'T WORRY BABE WE'LL FIND HIM FOR U -> yourspamaccount: PLEASE! I NEED MY MANZ
friend1: STAY STRONG WARRIOR!! -> yourspamaccount liked this comment!
friend2: sending my thoughts and prayers to you in this difficult time -> yourspamaccount: thank you... your well wishes are recieved gratefully
"Okay," Audrey begins, setting her bag down onto a spare chair at table the two of you are sitting at, "Try and describe him to me." "Well..." You wistfully sigh, beginning to skim through the menu of the beachside restaurant the two of you are at, "he had these beautiful brown eyes, and he was tall," you inhale sharply, and begin to whisper-yell at your best friend, "Audrey. He was like, kinda tall. He was like, above 6 feet tall. Maybe 6'1", give or take?" Audrey lets out a low whistle. "That's pretty good. He fits your criteria," Audrey trails on, looking at the menu herself, "Tall, pretty eyes... Oh, what was he wearing?" "A jersey of some type," your eyebrows knit together, trying to piece together whatever happened in your dream the previous night, "Maybe he plays sports? The shirt was white, and there was some sort of symbol on it..." You trail on, trying to put together your thoughts. "Go on then, maybe I'll know something," Audrey chuckles to herself for a moment before going on, "Wouldn't it be absolutely wicked if you capture the heart of some football player and I'll get the best seats for every match?" She chuckles, "Well, rest assured, in the infinitesimal chance that whatever you've described to me happens, I'll make it work," You continue, "It seemed like a round symbol? Like circular, maybe? And the colours were yellow and blue, if I'm not mistaken.... And, oh! There was a crown on top of the entire circle situation." You purse your hands together, satisfied of the detailed explanation you've pieced together. Audrey simply sits there with her mouth agape. "Dude," she sighs, "you're talking about Jude Bellingham, aren't you?" You simply tilt your head in confusion. Although football has such an intense influence over the population of Spain, you haven't lived here before, and you were simply here to indulge in the picturesque summer scene in Valencia with your grandma at her beach house. Audrey picks up on your confusion, and snatches her phone out of her bag, and begins to furiously type something into her phone. Then, she slides the mobile device over to you across the table, and your jaw drops. There he was, in all his glory, the man, quite literally, from your dreams. With a gummy like smile and twinkling eyes, he was, quite literally, everything you could wish for. But then... you look at his follower count, with a whopping 30.4 million followers. "Look at how many followers he has," You whine, almost like a petulant child, "I have no chance." "Hey..." Audrey starts, taking her phone back from your grasp, "Never say never. To be fair, you have a better chance than the rest of the crowd. You're near Madrid. He lives in Madrid. It's not that enormous of a place. There's always a chance that you'll bump into him somewhere." You simply sigh in response. "Don't feed my delusions, Auds."
yourspamaccounttagged: audreycore
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liked by: audreycore, friend1, friend2, and 16 others!
yourspamaccount: good news guys: we found the guy from my dream! bad news: he has 30.4 million other side hoes...
audreycore: DO NOT WORRY, Y/N Y/L/N! JUST BELIEVE IN THE POWERS OF MANIFESTATION, AND IT WILL HAPPEN!! -> yourspamaccount: audrey.... i think you're more excited than me... -> audreycore: yes.
friend1: girl... wtf! -> yourspamaccount: tell me about it!!
For the most part, you're just minding your own business. There aren't many days left in Valencia for you; as much as you love this sunny, safe refuge, it's quite impossible for you to stay here forever and just abandon all your responsibilities, It's not that your grandma hasn't offered though, she's tried to coerce you into staying here in this beachy paradise with her, but you simply can't accept. You have too many things back home, whether it be work or school, it'd just be too much. You might just take her up on the offer though, only later. Aimlessly, you roam the streets of Valencia. You observe the bustling crowd, the energetic children, the dads who are playing sports on the sandy shore, and the moms who are catching up on their tans and gossiping about whatever it is. That's when your daydreams are interrupted by a light tap on your shoulder. "Lo siento, discúlpame..." (sorry, excuse me...) The freaking Jude football guy who was in your dream comes up to you, albeit in slightly broken Spanish. You're starstruck for a second, but you quickly snap back into reality. "Hiya, can I help with anything?" You reply to him using English, sensing that he was probably more fluent in the language. "Oh my goodness," He breathes out a sigh of relief, "Thank God you can speak English. I don't think my Spanish would've gotten me anywhere at all," he laughs, and you let out a chuckle at his joke too, "Do you know where this place is, by any chance? I just can't seem to get the GPS working..." He shows you an address, and you immediately recognise it as a restaurant which you frequented with your family as a child. "Oh, absolutely!" You try and keep your cool, hoping that you aren't being too forward, "I could totally help you there. I used to go there all the time as a kid." "Really?" He smiles gratefully at you, "Are you sure that won't be too much trouble?" "Absolutely," You reassure him, "Alright, follow me..."
At first, the walk is filled with some sort of tentative, nervous silence. You're anxious to break the ice, but thankfully, Jude does it for you. "So, I never caught your name amidst all of that chaos..." He trails off, fiddling with his fingers. "Ah," You chuckle, "Y/N. You?" You turn slightly to face him, and tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. "Y/N," He repeats, as if he's testing the taste of your name on his tongue, "Pretty name for a pretty girl. I'm Jude." "Very nice to meet you Jude." You smile at him, and then nod as you steadily go straight ahead, eyes diverted to the ground, trying to hide the warm flush that's beginning to spread on your cheeks. "So..." He starts, kicking loose gravel from beneath his feet, "What brings you to Valencia?" "Ah," a smile graces your face at the thought of your grandmother, "my grandma has a beach house here. I usually come here during the summer to just relax." "I see," Jude nods insightfully, "so you're not from around here?" "Well, I was technically born here, but my parents and I moved away to Florence when I was young for my dad's work," You shrug, "What about you? What brings you to Madrid?" "Ah," his lips press together to form a tight line, "Just some work stuff. Contractually, I'm obligated to stay here." "You don't sound happy about that." You let out a soft laugh, a quirk an eyebrow at him. "Nah," he begins, shrugging his shoulders in a half-hearted motion, "it's not that bad here, but I think that because I'm not so good at Spanish, I've found it a little hard to adjust. And I think I'm just homesick, really." "Yeah, I get that," you nod, sympathising with him, "What part of the UK are you from?" "Stourbridge," He replies, "you probably haven't heard of it. It's further West." "Ah, I see," you stop, as you approach the restaurant, "Oh shit." You cringe. "What's wrong?" Jude jogs up to you from a little further behind. "It's closed," You sigh, looking defeatedly at a handwritten sign that's been posted, "the lady who runs the place went to Bali for her son's wedding." "Damn," he sighs, "I'm hungry. But that's nice for her, I guess." "You know what?" You take a leap of courage. "What is it, Y/N?" When he says your name, your heart skips a beat, and butterflies begin to swell in your tummy, warm and fluttering. "Just follow me." You take his, much larger, hand in your own, and lead him to a place which you've come to know as one of your favourites on this entire earth.
"Oh my goodness." Jude is in awe as you guide him to the pier of the beach, staring at the twinkling fairy lights strung up, with the vacantly setting sun in the background. "Yeah," You smile, "Come on, take a seat." You gesture your hand to a small booth, one that's been labelled yours. "Cariño!" (sweetheart)Your grandmother calls out, walking over from the entrance of her restaurant. "Hola abuela." (hello grandma) You stand up to greet her, kissing her cheeks. "Ah, and this must be your friend?" Your grandmother switches to English, walking over to your table. "Abuela, this is Jude," He stands up to greet her, basically towering over her, "And Jude, this is my grandmother." "Hola, it's very nice to meet you." Jude gives your grandma a smile, and extends a hand for her to shake. "It's lovely to meet you too, Jude," your grandma smiles, "any friend of Y/N is a friend of mine. Let me get you two some menus." Before she departs, however, she whispers a few words in your ear, "Él es muy apuesto, muy alto tambien!" (he's very handsome, very tall too!) "Abuela!" You exclaim, a pink tint covering your cheeks, before you playfully swat her arm and chase her away. Her delighted laugh simply echoes as she walks away. Soon enough, the two of you place your orders, and eagerly await for a warm, homecooked meal.
"So," you start, and take a small sip of the lemonade that's been served to you, "You said something about living here for work?" He scratches the back of his head in response, "Yeah, wait, I'm so sorry, but you seriously don't know who I am?" You hum, too preoccupied with sipping your drink, "Not really. Only vaguely. My best friend, Audrey, told me who you were. She's a big football enthusiast, but I'm more a motorsport fan myself." He clicks his tongue. "Ah, I see." You giggle at the prospect of telling him about your dream, and although you thought it was quiet enough for him not to hear, he manages to catch it. "What is it?" He questions you, quirking his head to the side. "It's probably going to be really stupid." You sigh. "It's fine." He smiles. "You're going to find me weird after." "Hm, probably not." He traces his fingers along the rim of his cup.
"Today wasn't the first time I've seen you." You begin, testing the waters. "Well, you've probably seen me on billboards and all... I am kinda famous around here after all..." He jokes, which makes you let out a laugh. "A few days back, I had this dream, and it was by the beach which is outside my grandma's place. And I was having the greatest time. The sun was setting, and my toes were just touching the water. But the best part was that I wasn't alone. I was with this guy, and he was tall, and he had the most mesmirising brown eyes...." You're too nervous to meet his gaze, so you begin to gaze beyond the pier, into the vacant distance. But before you know it, he's next to you, and his fingers are on your chin, gently guiding your face back to his direction. "Wanna go recreate it?"
yourusername has posted!
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liked by: judebellingham, audreycore, friend2, friend1, and 173 others!
yourusername: truly a night to remember <3
judebellingham: ur the best -> yourusername liked this comment!
judebellingham: i love your grandma -> yourusername: a bit out of your age range, is she not? -> judebellingham: i'll just go for the next best thing i guess :/ -> yourusername: thanks a lot...
audreycore: BELLLLINGIIIIMOOOOOOOOOOOO -> yourusername: ok.... -> judebellingham: thanks xx -> audreycore: i passed away
friend2: OK SERVE!!!! -> yourusername liked this comment
judebellingham has posted!
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liked by yourusername, audreycore, erling.haaland, and 3,242,672 others!
judebellingham: ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername: cute -> judebellingham: thanks but i have a gf -> yourusername: not you, the seashell. -> judebellingham: oh...
erling.haaland: Ouch... -> judebellingham: EERLING IM SORRY -> erling.haaland: make it up to me when the wound isn't so fresh :(
audreycore: BELLINGIIIIMOOOOO -> judebellingham: AUUUUUUUUUDREEYYYYYY (idk what your surname is)
football_wagss: new wag alert????
user1: UGH OMG GOALSS
football_wagss has posted!
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liked by user1, user2, user3, and 124,523 others!
football_wagss: yourusername, girlfriend of jude bellingham, and close friend of yourusername, audreycore, spotted at the Bayern vs Real Madrid semi-final to support Jude!
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minty364 · 2 days
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DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3
Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.
This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.
Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 
The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.
“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.
“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.
“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.
Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.
Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 
Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.
Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.
“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 
He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.
Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.
The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 
If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 
No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 
Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 
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aperrywilliams · 2 days
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It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?
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Reader's POV
-----
As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.
I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 
It doesn't feel like it yet. 
But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.
Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 
How naive of me.
I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.
Again, it's tomorrow's problem.
Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.
The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.
He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 
What a shame.
When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.
I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.
But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.
The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.
Fuck it. 
Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.
Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.
Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?
Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.
Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.
It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.
Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.
It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.
Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.
Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.
I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.
It was horrible until it wasn't.
I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.
Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?
-
Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 
I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.
Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.
On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.
This Monday will be a blast.
Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.
"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.
"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.
"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."
The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 
I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.
My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.
I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.
Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.
I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.
Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.
Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.
My ex didn't. And as him, many others.
I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.
Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.
Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.
"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.
"Of course. I promised I would."
Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.
"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.
"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.
It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.
I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.
"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."
Andie nods in understanding.
"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"
Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.
That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.
"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."
"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 
I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.
"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."
Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.
"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.
"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"
"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.
The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.
"Do you think you'll see him again?"
I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'
That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 
Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?
"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.
"But do you want to?"
That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.
"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."
A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.
She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.
Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.
Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.
----
A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 
Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.
But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.
I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.
I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.
"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."
I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.
With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.
I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.
Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.
Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.
"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.
"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.
"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.
"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."
Weird. 
Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.
"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.
"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"
A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.
Wait. I know that voice. 
I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.
I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.
"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.
"Uh?"
"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.
"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.
"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.
"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."
"To you, sir. Have a good evening."
I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.
Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.
"(Y/N), wait!"
I turn and see him trotting towards me.
"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.
Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 
"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"
What's wrong with me? 
Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?
"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.
"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."
Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?
"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.
I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.
"Yeah, me too."
Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...
"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."
Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.
Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.
"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.
"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."
----
This time, it's my turn to pick the place.
It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.
As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.
"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."
There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.
"What about yours?"
Now is my turn to talk about my boss.
"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."
The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 
When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.
"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.
"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.
"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.
So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.
"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.
"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."
That's interesting. I want to know more about that.
"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.
I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.
"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."
"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."
What? Kick doors down?
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"
I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."
I roll my eyes. That's not the point.
"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"
Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.
Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."
I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"
Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.
"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.
Gosh, that smile.
"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."
Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.
"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."
Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.
"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."
Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.
It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.
"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.
"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.
I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.
"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."
"Fair enough."
After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.
"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."
Spencer's brow furrows.
"Ray is your ex?"
Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.
Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.
"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.
"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.
I chuckle. "Hell, he is."
It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.
"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.
"No. Don't do that. I invited you."
Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 
"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."
Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.
We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.
"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.
"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.
"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 
Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.
"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.
"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.
"So you really like my company, uh?" 
I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.
"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.
The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.
I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.
Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.
"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."
Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.
Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.
"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.
"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.
I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.
"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 
I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.
"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."
Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!
"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"
Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.
"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.
"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.
I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.
A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.
"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.
"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.
"Bet I won't."
"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night, (Y/N)."
I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.
Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.
Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.
I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.
Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 
Whatever it is, it feels so good.
-------------
A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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buckleyx · 2 days
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Hear me out! Eddie Diaz x reader who swears she isn’t good with kids and is a big “I don’t want kids! I hate babies!” Kinda person but secretly loves kids so much and is so good with them like she honestly gets along with kids better than adults
BABY FEVER E.D
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the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner! @cafecitoeddie
Author’s note: I love this request so much bc I'm secretly the same hehe !
Eddie Diaz x GenderNeutral!reader
Warnings: drunk eddie and reader hehe
masterlist
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"Oh come on." Eddie whined playfully. A smirk tugged his lips as his hands danced around your waist. His chin rested on top of your shoulder as he peppered your neck in soft short kisses.
It was a beautiful summer evening and to celebrate the warm weather Maddie and Chimney invited everyone over for drinks and BBQ. The atmosphere was peaceful and everyone felt so relaxed. Kids ran around the yard as adults indulged in laughter and conversation. Moments like these you cherished with all your heart.
You noticed Eddie's eyes on you from across the table as you helped Jee-Yun with cutting up her food. Your smile unintentionally grew wider with every laugh and babble she blurted out to you.
After dinner, while everyone was still chatting away but the sun disappeared more and more in darkness, the garden was lit by beautiful garden lights and candles. Jee-Yun's head rested against your chest as you indulged further in conversation. Her eyelids became heavier as she tightly grabbed the plushie you gifted her earlier closer to her body. As you were chatting with your friends you looked up at Eddie who was talking with Buck and Chimney. He paid no mind to their conversation, only having eyes on you. He took a chug from his beer before giving you a soft smile. He was standing next to the fire pit, the sparks made his eyes shimmer.
All these years you convinced yourself and others you were terrible with kids. But now you felt caught, by your own actions, as the toddler on your lap softly snored away.
As the evening continued and it was getting more late, children were safely tucked away in bed and everyone snuggled closer to the warmth of the fire pit with beers in hand, you and Eddie managed to escape the coziness just for a second. You found each other in the kitchen, getting more drinks to continue the party outside.
As soon as you entered the dimly lit house his hands were all over you. You were both pretty drunk and you knew Eddie long enough to know he could get very touchy when intoxicated. And that's what brought you here. To this moment and conversation.
"Eddie, we talked about this." You giggled as his stubble tickled your neck. "I'm not good with kids."
"Come on baby, we both know that's a lie." He said, slightly tilting his head to prove his point. His hand still rested on your hip as the other one traced his fingers over your jaw. "You are honestly, and I mean honestly," He cupped your face, gently tilting your head so you could look at him. "One of the most beautiful and kindest people I have ever met. And I am sure that every kid will agree." Eddie smiled softly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you.
Your eyes felt glossy after his words. No one has ever shown you so much love as him. You closed your eyes before taking a deep breath, a loving smile appearing on your lips. "I really love you Diaz, you know that right?"
"Hmh, I had a suspicion." He joked before pulling you in for a kiss.
My requests are open! :)
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Main Taglist: @onlinevampire1898 @reality1escaping @musicsavedme98 @zombiedixon89  @ladamari68 @angelofbowersgangwifey @incendiotriaaa   @embon   @pansexualmommamess  @mykookieme-blog  @fairyhope028  @alexxavicry  @alexloveskili @one-sweet-gubler  @attackonnat   @strangersomeone  @ahookedheroespureheart @911readercollection @hermionesimp @chihard20 @navy-bl-ue @whizzie123 @prettymissy @miliokumura3 @ghostlyllamalover-blog @sunnyhoneyyyyy @celestixldarling
Let me know if you want to be added for future work!
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nalyra-dreaming · 9 hours
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Holy shit?!
src
“Louis is still fighting to get to something, to unlock the memories that have curiously evaded him. "The pursuit of memory and truth is the driving force this season. It motivates Louis to get to where we're going to get to by the end of it," said Zaman. "Season 1 proved that his memory's completely shot in lots of ways, but who, or what, did that — that's the question I think we're going to have to answer."…
“It all begins with Louis, a textbook unreliable narrator, though Jones and Anderson both bristle a bit at the term. "One self delusion knits itself to the rest of your life," Jones said. He argued that Louis' memory might be "80-90 percent" correct, though it only takes one mistaken detail to muddle a timeline and cancel someone out entirely. "To unwind that, you call into question all this stuff. It doesn't mean that all this stuff isn't right. It's just this thing has altered it a little bit."
To Anderson, Louis' unreliability matters less than the vivid reality of his feelings. "It's not necessarily that Louis is a quote-unquote unreliable narrator," he said. "He is, because what he's saying is completely subjective. But I think it has just as much to do with how something felt, the feeling of a person or the feeling of an experience, than it is him actively trying to deceive anybody." That comes out most strongly in Dubai, particularly in the second season. "He's really, genuinely trying to find the closest thing to an objective recalling of events that he possibly can."…
“I like writing for Sam Reid, and I think in terms of how this thing is structured and what's going on in this headspace, it wasn't a big leap to go, 'Oh, he's haunting. He's inside Louis,'" Jones said. When we see Lestat at the beginning of the season, he manifests as what Anderson and Reid referred to as "dream Lestat" — not quite himself, not quite a ghost, not quite a memory, but some blend of all three, filtered through Louis' guilt and grief.
"Who is Louis remembering, and how is Louis remembering [Lestat] is always on my mind," said Reid when we first spoke at the Television Critics Association winter press tour in February. "I'm always thinking about it, and I'm always talking about it, much to the chagrin of pretty much everyone." (From across the table we were crowded around, Anderson heckled, "I can vouch for that.") Later, when we met one on one over Zoom, Reid elaborated, "Louis is speaking to himself, so he speaks like Louis. But he's also speaking to Lestat, and he's choosing to speak to Lestat when he's speaking to himself." The first time we see Lestat in Season 2, he materializes before Louis as a gory vision during a moment of mental deterioration, vengeful and overbearingly loving all at once. What was already a blurry line between the ex-lovers has now become indistinguishable.“…
“With dream Lestat assuming a number of dispositions, all dictated by Louis' headspace, separating dream Lestat from the real Lestat was crucial to Reid. "It's clear that Louis is putting the words into his mouth," Reid said. "Who's the guy that he's forced to see looking back at him, saying the words that he thinks he should be saying?" The presence of dream Lestat means that the state of the real Lestat is unclear when the season opens, but becoming this slightly unreal version of his character built on the groundwork Reid had already been laying. Going back to the first season, he often rejected Anderson's impulse to play their scenes together as if they were true. "I know this is not how this happened," he said of Louis' version of events, "which allowed me to kind of lean into the more sow's ear version of Lestat in specific moments, because I knew that we might be revisiting them."…
“For Claudia, Lestat's influence will always linger. "That's his daughter," Hayles said simply. "He doesn't need to be a ghost. He's in her." Louis and Claudia know each other inside and out, and Louis' love for Claudia is all-encompassing, but she sees the writing on the wall the moment he meets Armand: What happened with Lestat will happen again as Louis chooses another man over her.“
(much more behind the link!!)
UPDATE: link to the author’s tweet, Allison Picurro
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dragon-kazansky · 12 hours
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Thirteen - Passionate
♡♡♡
A garden party was a nice occasion. The joys of being outdoors while socialising with dear friends had a calming and charming air about it. You found it rather pleasant being in the outdoors.
The flowers smelled wonderful, and you couldn't help making mental notes of some of the flower arrangements for, perhaps, future uses.
As you stroll, you come across the Bridgertons. You smile at Violet as you get closer, though she is talking to Eloise, who sounds less than pleased with the topic of conversation. You decide to narrowly miss this conversation for now and walk past them to where Benedict and Anthony were talking to a couple of young ladies.
Both men seem to perk up at your appearance beside them.
"Hello," you smile at the pair.
"Good afternoon," Anthony smiles back.
"Enjoying the fresh air?" Benedict asks, also smiling. Smiles all around, how joyous.
"Yes, very. This is lovely."
Anthony waves over a servant with a tray of lemonade and hands you a glass. You take it with a soft thank you, missing the look Benedict gives his brother. Anthony elects to ignore Benedict as he smiles at you again. You sip the lemonade.
The sound of someone clinking their glass to signal attention has everyone turning around to look at Colin Bridgerton.
"Can I have your attention?" He asks, looking around at everyone.
"What's he doing?" You ask quietly to the brothers beside you.
"No idea," Anthony mutters.
"I would like to make a small but important announcement," Colin declares. He is standing next to Marina Thompson. "I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife and she has accepted."
You nearly choke on your lemonade. Benedict and Anthony look at each other. Anthony, in particular, looks less than pleased by this.
People clap around them. You clap for appearance sake, but you look up at Anthony. "Did you know?"
"No."
Anthony steps forward to talk to his mother. You can't hear what they're saying. You look up at Benedict. "I wasn't even aware your brother was courting."
"Neither was I." He says with a little shrug.
Everyone moves to go congratulate the couple. As you pass Anthony, you look up at him. He offers you his arm and you both approach Colin and Marina.
You could feel him seething behind his calm exterior.
After the party, Anthony takes Colin into his study to talk to him. You have no idea what they discuss, but you can take a pretty good guess.
♡♡♡
The next morning, you went to the Bridgerton house to see Violet. After Colin's unexpected announcement, you wanted to know all was well with the rest of the family. They were already without a sister now. They did not need to lose Colin so soon, surely.
Lady Bridgerton was most pleased to see you at her door. She told you they hadn't even started breakfast yet and invited you in. Benedict was there with the two youngest siblings. You smile at him as you enter. He smiles back softly, seemingly pleased to see you.
"Take a seat," Violet says kindly.
You sit next to Gregory, opposite Hyacinth, who sits beside Benedict. The eldest son at the table hasn't torn his gaze from you at all.
"Tea, ma'am?" The butler asks.
"Yes, please."
A cup is poured for you.
"Are you hungry?" Violet asks.
"No. I ate at home. Thank you, though." You smile at her. She returns the smile and picks up the paper in front of her. "How are you all?" You ask.
"Uh, well," Benedict nods. You smile at him.
"Violet?" You looked at her.
"Hm?" She looks up from her paper. "Oh, uh, yes." She nods, and then lowers her gaze back to the paper.
Benedict gives you a look that you understand clearly enough. His mother has been better.
"I suppose it's too soon to hear from Daphne yet?" You ask.
"I'm sure they'll have made it by now. They'll be enjoying their honeymoon period, no doubt." Benedict chuckles softly.
You smile softly and look into your teacup. "I wonder what it's like..."
"The honeymoon period?" Benedict asks, looking up at you with slightly flushed cheeks.
"Being married," you correct him.
"Oh..."
Violet looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling. "When you marry your best friend, it's the most wonderful feeling of all."
You smile at her. "I want that."
"Youshall have it. One day, dear."
You are grateful for Violet and her kindness. You've never known a more warm and welcoming woman. Your mother was nice, certainly, but she was eager just to see you wed. Violet made marriage sound magical.
You sip your tea and listen to Hyacinth bicker with Gregory over a ribbon. Benedict tries to be the middleman and solve this peacefully. You chuckle at their antics. Gregory tries to get you to defend him, but you put your hands up and explain that you weren't here when the crime was supposedly committed. Benedict also comes to your rescue.
You smile at each other.
Colin walks in.
Conversation becomes quieter. You pour yourself another cup of tea and avoid looking up at Colin. You feel like this may be a little awkward. You grab a slice of toast for the centre of the table and butter it quietly, needing to keep your hands busy.
Benedict seems to realise what you're doing and says nothing to you.
"Good morning." Colin greets his family.
"Morning, brother."
Colin nods to you, too. You offer him a smile which you then hide behind the toast you had buttered.
"Colin, your engagement is in Whistledown!" Hyacinth exclaims cheerfully.
"Hyacinth!" Eloise scolds. You hadn't even seen her lingering in the back of the room.
"What? It is!"
"Very well. Everyone out, I think." Benedict says as gently as he can.
"Yes," Violet mutters.
Benedict calls your name softly. You nod and down the rest of your tea, taking the other half of the toast with you as you rise with the others. Eloise grabs her plate and glides past you quietly.
Colin approaches his mother as you all leave the room. When the door shuts behind you, yo turn to Benedict. "Will he be alright?"
"I'll let you know after."
You follow him down the hall.
The two younger siblings follow their sister into the drawing room. Benedict reaches out his hand to grab lightly at your arm, stopping you from going any further.
"Could I... show you something?" He asks.
You look at him, brow slightly furrowed, and nod. He smiles, that crooked little smile of his and guides you down the opposite hall, leading you toward an empty room. There was minimal furniture in there, which confused as to why he brought you here.
"I like to come in here for some quiet." He explains.
He offers you a seat on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and disappears for a brief moment. You look around the room as you wait. When he returns, he's carrying something.
"I don't usually show other people my work, for, I admit, I am not happy with it, but I would like to share a piece of me with you." He says, placing the book on the table between you.
For a moment, he sits there with his hands planted firmly on top of the book and then pushes it closer to you. You reach out and take the book carefully. His hand slowly slides from the cover, and you watch him become riddled with anxiety and nerves as his passion lays slowly in your hands.
You turn your eyes to the book and gently curl your fingers around the cover, pulling it open slowly, hoping not to disturb the pages. You start from the beginning. Mere scribbles of a person. You turn the pages slowly. Different angles. Different body parts up close. Eyes, noses, hands, lips. Nearly 6 whope pages are focused on hair styles on ladies. There are pages focusing on the folds of clothes and how they hand. Particularly dresses.
You browse the sketchbook slowly and carefully, taking I never details.
There is some evidence of torn pages within the book. You wonder how many times he sketched something and torn it out with anger with displeasure.
"Well?" He asks after a long pause of silence.
You lift your eyes to meet his. "You drew all of these?"
"Yes..."
You cast your eyes on the book again, admiring a sketch of a hand up close. The long fingers, the bend in the knuckles, the lines on the palm.
"You're very talented, Benedict."
You hear the breath leave his lips and look up to see the way his eyes light up with surprise. He clearly was expecting a very different comment.
"You think so?"
"Yes." You nod. "Very."
Benedict seems to relax immensely as he looks at you and then sits back in his chair, looking relieved.
"I want to create something people will remember and talk about for years to come," he confesses. "But I cannot. I do not possess such a talent."
"Nonsense."
"No, really." He leans forward again.
"Can I ask why you decided to show me this?" You ask, looking at the open book again.
"I trust you." He speaks softly. "Are we not friends?" He asks.
"Of course."
Hs lips twitch into a smile. "I trust you," he repeats.
"Well, I'm very glad you do." You close the book and hand it back carefully. "I trust that you will create something spectacular one day."
You had no idea how much your words meant to him or for how long he would end up carrying those words with him. If you could see the artist he wants to be inside, then surely one day it shall come true. Benedict swears on his heart that anything you day could become true just because they are spoken from your lips.
He hadn't even noticed his eyes had glanced at your lips, not until his eyes met your eyes again. You don't seem to have noticed.
"I think I've taken up enough of your family's time now. I mostly wanted to check on Violet after Colin's rather abrupt proposal."
"Yes..." Benedict wasn't entirely certain what you had just said, he just agreed. His mind was reeling.
Had he really just stared at your lips without realising he was doing it. Why does he feel the urge to look at them again?
You stand before he can get the chance.
"See me out?"
He snaps back to reality and stands quickly. "Yes."
You chuckle and begin to leave the room. Benedict follows you, pretending nothing is amiss. He was confused by his own behaviour.
You assumed it was a Bridgerton trait, if nothing else.
Benedict shows you to the door, and you step outside. Your carriage awaits. You turn and smile at Benedict.
"Do not give up."
"Hm?" He looks at you confused.
"Your art. Do not give up. One day, your work will hang with the greats."
Your words set his heart fluttering. He takes a deep breath and nods, not tristing his voice. You chuckle again and bid him farewell as you walk away.
Benedict closes the door and turns slowly, looking at the empty hall of the house.
"I need a drink."
"It's barely 9," Eloise says from the open door of the drawing room.
Benedict nearly jumped out of his skin.
♡♡♡
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minniesmutt · 1 day
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⚠︎ ━━━ MINE
⚠︎ ━━━  WC: 2K
⚠︎ ━━━  CONTENT: FOOD METNTIONS, PRAISE, PREGNANT SEX, INNIE IS A GENTLEMAN, ORAL (F. REC), FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE
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     “You don’t have to go back home all the time, you know that right?” Jeongin groaned as Y/n cleaned up his living room from the pizza orders
     “I don’t wanna invade your space more than I have been,” Y/n said
     “You’re not. I’m the one who invited you over,” Jeongin told her
     “In,” Y/n whined as he stopped her from cleaning
     “Do you work tomorrow?” He asked as he sat her next to him on the couch again
     “No,” Y/n sighed
     “Stay the night.”     “M’kay,” Y/n agreed, “Let me finish cleaning though.”
     “No, sit,” Jeongin stood and cleaned for her. Y/n giggled at him and checked her email while she waited for him to finish.
     “What’s with the face?” Jeongin asked as he sat back next to her.
     “Email from my building management,” Y/n told him.
     “Everything okay?”
     “Yeah, just a reminder my lease is up in a few months and I need to renew it soon.”
     “Is he still on your lease?” 
     “No. I talked to the management about him the last time I had to renew. He never paid his half anyways.”
     “You gonna renew?”
     “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to afford to stay there anymore when the baby comes. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find a place and move in before the baby gets here. I could move in with Hana again but I still have to talk to her about it.”
     “You don’t have to agree, but you could move in here. Make it easier when the baby gets here and not moving him back and forth constantly.”
     “In…” Y/n looked at him
     “I’m just trying to think ahead. You don’t have to, but I’m putting the option out there.”
     “I’ll take it into consideration,” Y/n told him as she closed her phone, setting it on the coffee table.
     The two sat back on the couch, continuing to watch the drama that Jeongin had put on when they were eating dinner. Y/n had adjusted herself to be more comfortable a couple of times before Jeongin suggested moving them to the bedroom so she could lie down comfortably.
    The two moved and Jeongin set her up comfortably on the bed under the covers and put on the show for them on the bedroom TV. Y/n rested her head on his shoulder as she kept her eyes on the TV. Slowly, the two somehow shifted closer. His arm wrapped around her while she rested on his chest. Getting interrupted by his phone as she was falling asleep, “Sorry,” Jeongin apologized
     Jeongin grabbed his phone and left the room to take the call. Y/n laid back and continued watching the show. Jeongin came back a few minutes later and got back into bed with her again. “Who called?” Y/n asked
     “My mom. Asked how the appointment went. Says congratulations on us having a boy,” he clued her in
     “Think she’ll help plan the baby shower?” Y/n asked as she looked up at him
     “She did ask about it. Offered the house to host it at.” Jeongin looked down at her 
     “I love your mom,” Y/n smiled
     “I’ll tell her next time she calls,” Jeongin laughed, pulling her closer to him again
     Y/n smiled up at him as her arm draped over his middle. Jeongin leaned his forehead on hers, returning the smile. “You look like you’re thinking,” Y/n said
     “I am.”
     “About?”
     “How I kind of regret saying to go slow because I kind of wanna kiss you. Especially after shopping all day…”
     Y/n leaned forward and placed her lips on his. Not giving him another second to think about it. It took a second for the man to respond then he wrapped his arms around her and held her as close as he could with her bump between them. 
     Y/n smiled and cupped his face. Both melted into the kiss as he rolled them both over so he was on top. His hands held onto her hips as the kiss deepened. Y/n moaned into the kiss before he pulled away and looked down at her. “You okay?” He asked, kissing her cheeks
     “Yeah,” Y/n said as he trailed his lips down to her neck
     Jeongin didn’t say anything as he pulled away from her neck. He reached over and grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed, moving her to get the pillow under her for her back.
     “I said I was okay,” Y/n said
     “You fell asleep on your back three days ago and you woke me up at four am, yelling at me for not turning you on your side.”
     “I said sorry,” Y/n pouted
     “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Jeongin kissed her pout.
     Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, “Just cute?”
     Jeongin hummed as he returned to kissing her neck. “Cute. Amazing. Funny. Hot. The mother of my child. All mine.” he said between kisses, getting closer to her collarbone
     “Your’s?” Y/n asked
     “Mine,” Jeongin confirmed
     Y/n smiled as she looked up at him. His eyes seemed to be holding so many emotions. Jeongin leaned down to her lips again, pressing them together. Y/n moaned into his mouth. Jeongin mumbled more praises against her lip before he moved back to her neck again. Y/n moaned as he lightly bit the side of her neck. Her fingers grabbed at the hairs at the nape of his neck.
     “Wish I remembered the first time we slept together,” Jeongin muttered into her skin.
     “Second time?” Y/n suggested
     “Right now?”
     “Please.”
     Jeongin looked up at her, “You sure?”
     “I’m really good at begging In. I’ll do it.”
     “Another time,” Jeongin smiled as he leaned down and attacked her lips again.
     Y/n moaned as he adjusted her legs around his waist. Y/n could feel him growing as he pressed against her. Y/n tightened her legs around him while his hands slipped under her shirt. Pushing the fabric up while he slipped his tongue past the seal of her lips.
     Y/n slipped her hands from his hair as their tongues danced between them and worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Jeongin rolled his hips against hers making her moan into his mouth. His hands moved down from pushing her shirt up and unbuttoned her pants. Gently lifting her hips and pulling the fabric down. 
     He pulled away from her lips as she got the last button undone. Jeongin tossed off the shirt and the tank top underneath along with her pants. Y/n sat up as best she could before he helped her get her shirt and bra off. 
     “You’re so beautiful,” Jeongin muttered as he kissed her neck again 
     Y/n whined as he moved down. Kissing down between her breasts, over her growing stomach then over her clothed cunt. Jeongin laid down on his stomach as he put her legs over his shoulder after pulling the last bit of fabric off of her. 
     Y/n shivered as his tongue ran up from her entrance to her clit then his lips wrapped around the bud. Y/n grabbed onto the sheets under her as he all but devoured her. Jeongin moaned into her as he subtly humped the mattress. Mumbling praises that didn’t reach her ears but he would gladly repeat later. 
     “In,” Y/n moaned as his tongue just barely dipped into her
     “Yeah, baby?” He asked
     “Finger… please…” Y/n begged
     “Yeah? Need me to fill your pretty pussy with my fingers. So wet already,” He rambled as he pushed his middle finger into her.
     Y/n moaned as his finger curled up into her. Grabbing onto his hair to ground herself better. Just making the man below her moan as he continued pumping his finger in and out of her. Lips and tongue worked her clit as she moaned his name. 
     Jeongin slipped another finger into her, making her tighten her grip on his hair. He kept his pace steady while her legs tightened around his head. “‘M close,” Y/n whined
     He hummed in response and kept his pace steady. Helping her get closer and closer til he finally tipped her over. Her cum covered his fingers as he stayed there until her grip on him loosened. He gently put her legs back on the bed as he sat up and pulled his fingers out of her, licking them clean, taking pride as he watched her face flush. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and leaned back down to her lips, letting her taste herself off them.
     “How you feelin’ baby?” He asked between kisses
     “Good. Need more.” 
     “Yeah? Tell me what you need baby.”
     Jeongin’s lips wandered again, making her lose her thoughts alongside her post-orgasm brain. “In…”
     “Words love. Need you to tell me what you need no matter how hard it is in that pretty brain of yours.”
     “Cock,” Y/n moaned
     “Where?”
     “Inside…”
     “Inside where? You’re pretty mouth or your pussy?”
     “Pussy… Innie please.”
     Jeongin hummed as he sat back and pulled off his pants and boxers. Chucking them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. 
     “Condom?” He asked
     “Doesn’t matter. Won’t make a difference and I’m clean.”
     “I’m clean too.”
     Jeongin lined himself up with her entrance and slowly pushed in. He grabbed onto her hands and pinned them onto the pillow below. Taking his time to sink into her and letting her adjust to him. Retelling her all the praises that she didn’t hear earlier. Kissing her for the umpteenth time now. Letting her get used to him fully inside her till she begged him to move. 
     Jeongin sat up a bit but kept their hands together. Slowly pulling his hips back and pushing back interesting her. Keeping up the pace and not rocking her too much. Only going faster when she asked him though it was more like begging. Smiling to himself as her legs wrapped around his waist tight. 
     He leaned down and kissed everywhere he could on her neck, leaving a couple of marks he was sure would bruise later. Y/n gripped his hands tighter as he left his mark on her while his hips knocked into her.
     Y/n moaned as a certain angle hit the right spot inside her. Her back arching off the pillow just a bit. Begging him to hit there again. Jeongin happily obliged and repositioned them a bit to get to that spot again. Picking up his pace more as he twitched inside her. Orgasm approaching quickly. 
     “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath as he sat up more, taking one hand away from hers and rolling his thumb over her clit. Y/n moaned louder at the added stimulation on her already sensitive clit. Her now free hand gripping the pillow under her head before the high blindsided her. 
     Jeongin groaned as she clamped down around him. Making it a bit harder but he managed. Fucking her through her high again until her moans turned to whines and he came inside her. Pushing himself into her and painting her walls white. Groaning a few times as he thrusted a few more times into her. Burying himself in her once he was finished.
     Both of them lay in the afterglow for a minute, catching their breaths before looking at each other. “Hi,” Y/n breathed
     “Hi mama,” Jeongin smiled
     “I like when you call me that,” Y/n smiled
     “Good. I’m gonna keep calling you that.” Jeongin leaned down and kissed her again
     Y/n moaned into his mouth before pulling back, “Getting uncomfortable?” he asked
     “Little bit,” Y/n answered
     “Let me pull out and get you cleaned up.” Jeongin pecked her lips before slowly pulling out of her before getting up to clean up. Going to the bathroom then coming back. Gently cleaning her up and fixing the covers and pillows before joining her back on the bed. Spooning her and rubbing her belly
     “Can I ask a bit of a dumb question?” Y/n asked
     “You’re questions are never dumb.” 
     “What are we?”
     “Mm,” Jeongin kissed her shoulder, “How does being boyfriend and girlfriend sound?”
     “I like that.”
     “I was just waiting for you to be ready.”
     “You’re too good for me.”
     “Think I’m perfect for you.” Jeongin chuckled behind her
     “Ego,” Y/n rolled her eyes
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wosoimagines · 1 day
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Ease Up
part 1 of rivals one-shots
a different look at breakfast one morning at camp.
904 words
set during part 3 of rivals
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“Look, you need to ease up on the kid.” 
Hope, Carli, and Christie all looked up at Alyssa. It was clear to all three about who the goalie was talking about. Especially since Jo hadn’t come down to eat yet. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hope said as she turned back to her plate. 
Alyssa slammed her hands onto the table causing the others in the room to grow quiet and look over where the normally quiet goalie was standing. 
“I’m serious, Hope. Jo’s tearing herself apart,” Alyssa said as she leaned down closer to the table. She didn’t exactly need the whole team knowing about how Jo was struggling. “She’s putting the entire blame of the U-20 team not winning on herself.” 
“Good. It’ll be a wakeup call. If she’s not good enough for them, then she isn’t good enough for us.” 
Neither Carli nor Christie could have guessed that Alyssa would be the one to lunge toward Hope to pull her up by the front of her shirt. Hope immediately tried to shove Alyssa back, but Alyssa wasn’t going to let Hope be the reason that Jo ended her career early. 
“You’re gonna ease up on the kid,” Alyssa hissed as she ignored the countless arms trying to pull her away from Hope. “I swear, Hope, if you don’t make Jo realize that you were just being a dick to her, I’m the one you’ll have a problem with.” 
“Hey, what’s going on?” 
Alyssa nor Hope drew their eyes away from the other even with the added presence of their teammates. 
“Hey, Alyssa,” Christen said as she put a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” 
“Hope’s being a dick to Jo and I’m not letting it stand anymore.” 
The rest of the room froze. Everyone was aware of how competitive Hope and Jo were with each other, but no one thought it was getting to the point where Alyssa, of all people, would snap at Hope. Becky, sure, but not Alyssa. 
“Jo’s putting all of the blame on herself about the loss in the finals and a lot of it is because of Hope. She thinks she has to prove herself to Hope even though Hope’s never been able to stop her,” Alyssa said. Hope reached out to try to shove Alyssa back again, but the other keeper kept herself planted. “She’s a kid, Hope. She should be worried about her friends and school and who she’s going to prom with, not trying to impress you so that you’ll finally accept her on the team. I’m not going to let her run herself into the ground trying to impress someone who’s being an ass to her.” 
“Alyssa, let go of Hope. Come on, let her go,” Christen said as she tried to pull the two keepers apart. “You can’t help Jo out if you get kicked off the team because you and Hope can’t get along.” 
Alyssa hesitated for a moment before she finally let go of Hope’s shirt. Hope immediately got closer to the other keeper. 
“Try that again-” 
“And what? Go ahead and try me, Hope. I’m not in the mood.” 
Christen moved to get in between the two keepers as others on the team also started to pull the two apart from each other. 
“Alyssa, drop it,” Christen said as she started to push Alyssa back.  
Christen waited until they were quite far away from where Hope had sat back down at the table before she stopped pushing Alyssa back. The others that had helped pull Alyssa back hesitated to move until Christen nodded at them. She was sure that she could handle it from here. 
Alyssa refused to meet Christen’s eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t mean to lose her temper like that.  
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” 
Alyssa shook her head as she tried to figure out what to say to explain why she had reacted that way. 
“Jo spent three hours yesterday working on penalties because she has no confidence in herself and she thinks that we shouldn’t trust her either,” Alyssa said. She knew that if Jo didn’t get herself out of this mindset, then she would burn out before she could even get started. “She thinks she has to be perfect, Christen. None of us are perfect. And this is a kid who has a ton of potential but is going to hurt herself because she thinks she has to be perfect all of the time when she doesn’t.” 
Christen sighed because she knew what it was like to be one of the top prospects. It was a lot to have to carry and the fact that Jo was playing with the senior team at fifteen years old meant that she had an insane amount of pressure on her. Everyone was counting her out because of her age and not basing any of their opinions on how Jo played. 
“I’ll talk to her,” Christen said. Alyssa froze at that and looked up at Christen. “It might help to have someone who has been in a similar position to talk to her.” 
Alyssa nodded. If she and Becky hadn’t been able to get through to Jo, then maybe this was the next best thing. Alyssa just hoped that one of them would be able to get through to Jo before she hurt herself. 
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