#i've been staying in bed which is the plan for the next day or so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freakyformula · 2 months ago

Text

First time with the Lion

Summary: Reader is scared to lose her virginity but Max is the best boyfriend and helps her along the way.

Writers comment: The amount of hours I've put into this fucking fic...

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, swear words, oral (both receiving), loss of virginity, creampie, google translated dutch

Word count: 4,4k

You stood outside Max's apartment, waiting for him to come home. You had forgotten your keys and he was rushing back from the gym to let you in. You told him that you'd go back to your apartment to get the keys but Max was having none of it. You and Max had been seeing each other for a year by now, and he had given you the keys to his home a couple of months into dating.

"I'm sorry for taking so long, I ran as fast as I could." He pants as he sees you when he steps out of the elevator.

"Max, it's been like 5 minutes, it's not like I'll die just because I have to wait for you." You mutter to him while you rub his arm.

He opens the door for you, kisses your forehead, and returns to the gym to complete his daily workout.

You lounge on the sofa for a bit before you feel your stomach grumbling. You walk to the kitchen and realise that the fridge is full of food, unusual for Max, considering he doesn't cook, you think.

It's already dusk and you've started preparing dinner for the two of you when he gets home.

As soon as Max sees you in the kitchen his lips form into a wide smile. He walks up to you and hugs you from behind.

"Hmmm, smells good. What are you making?"

"Penne alla vodka with chicken." You state, suspecting that Max didn't understand one word you just uttered. You smirk at him, "Pasta with tomato sauce, basically."

In response, he nods and continues to observe you while you work on the pasta.

"So… What do you want to do tonight, Y/N?" He suddenly asks.

"I was thinking we could stay in?"

"Sounds good to me…" He grabs your hips and presses himself against you, tickling your face and neck with light kisses. You can feel his hard-on through the fabric of your clothes.

While having supper, you make plans for the next racing weekend. You were not accustomed to the busy paddock, but Max was. Even though you had attended a few races and hidden in the grandstands with other fans, it was all new to you. It was important to maintain a low profile because you and Max had not yet gone public.

When you're done, and as you're finishing up the dishes, you feel his touch behind you again.

"Touchy today, are we?" You ask.

"Hmmmm…" He hums.

And with that, he easily lifts you up on his shoulder, carries you to the sofa, and lays you down with the utmost care.

He places himself between your legs as you part them for him, and he lets out a barely audible groan. He looks you deep in the eyes as he leans in to kiss you.

He begins stroking and kneading his way down your arms, chest, hips, and hands as soon as you start making out.

Max knows you're a virgin, you had told him when he took your makeout session too far once. Turns out he had already assumed you were because of the purity ring you were wearing.

Before you met Max, you'd been focusing on your studies, which meant little time for anything else. Your family was also extremely religious and anything considered sexual was forbidden before marriage.

While you and Max had done some stuff already, like seeing and touching each other while naked, you hadn't really gone further than that, the reason being your inexperience.

"Is this okay?" Max asks as he supports himself on his elbow, admiring your beauty only a few centimeters away from you. You could feel his breath on you, and he was panting heavily.

You spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, later moving to the bed to finish an episode of your favorite series.

In the days after, Max couldn't keep his hands off you. After that night, you waited for the opportunity to ask him about his intentions. It seemed as though the nature of the relationship had changed. Max had planned a romantic dinner at one of Monaco's top restaurants, followed by a stroll around the harbour to watch the sunset.

You sat on the balcony of the restaurant and enjoyed the food and each other.

You were wearing a floral midi dress and he was rocking a pair of beige shorts and a blue button-up.

When you considered yourself done, you slowly started walking towards the harbour.

The evening was beautiful, with the sky shining in all sorts of different colours.

You inhaled deeply and gathered your thoughts. The nerves were almost getting to you. Max flung his arms over you to try and warm you up, so he must have noticed how much you were shaking.

"Max… I need to ask you something." You begin, "About last week, did something happen that night when we cuddled? You've been acting strange ever since."

He turns to look at you and takes a deep sigh. You can see his face frown, seemingly deep in thought.

"Y/N, you know I love you. All I want is to treat you well and avoid causing you harm. But lately, you've turned me on so badly, and I'm afraid that expressing how much I need you would just harm you. He glances up at you, relieved to have voiced what was on his mind.

"Oh, Max…" You lean in, give his lips a peck, and rest your head on his arm, happy with the fact that he'd confessed his feelings.

"I don't want to rush, it's not like that at all. But I can't keep pretending like I'm not turned on by you." Max admits.

You look up at him and smile, "That makes two of us."

The look he gives you is so hilarious, it makes you giggle.

"D-do you mean that…?" He asks with big eyes.

"Yes… I have a suggestion, why don't we go back to your place and you can show me just how turned on you are?"

The whole walk home, Max holds your hand tightly, almost as if he's afraid of losing you on the way. As soon as he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. Max stumbles out of his shorts and you unbutton his shirt, and he helps you with your dress.

When it touches the ground and you're standing in only underwear before him, you cross your arms, afraid and uncomfortable. Max softly grabs your hands and softly bends your arms open, letting him see you fully.

"You're exquisite, Y/N. Never claim otherwise. Can I touch you?" He carefully asks.

You nod and he starts by sliding his hands up your arms, to your collarbones, and down to your chest. You let out a small whimper when you feel him move down to your hips.

The sounds of your family telling you about waiting for marriage and the importance of abstinence rang in your ears and you panicked. You back off and leave Max confused. He quickly makes his way up to you and holds your face.

The same thing had happened before; you desperately wanted to take the next step with Max, confident that he was your soulmate, but your conscience would not let you.

"It's okay, Y/N. We don't have to go further than this." He says, hoping to cheer you up.

"But… I want to. I want you."

"Then what's stopping you? I'm here."

And it's as if all the morals you've ever stored in your body melted away.

You felt ready, even if it would take time to get used to this. Anything sexual being sinful was all you knew of growing up.

You lean in and kiss his lips softly, daring to touch his shoulders. As the kiss deepens, you move your hands to his chest, and down to his stomach. You feel him mimicking your movements, giving you control that way. Without breaking the kiss, he starts to steer you towards the bedroom.

Once you reach the second-story staircase, Max picks you up into his strong arms, causing you to yelp. Max lays you down on the bed with care and follows, placing himself on top.

"How far are you ready to go, Y/N?" He asks.

"I don't know yet, but I'm okay so far. Just keep going."

"Can I take these off?" He asks, gazing down at the bra and panties.

You nod.

"First off, words. You need to use words for this to work, it's for our safety and well-being." He explains.

"Okay… y-yes." You stutter.

"Good girl." He smiles at you and starts placing kisses on your naked skin, that nickname making you absolutely feral.

He starts peppering kisses on your mouth and works his way down to your neck, and further to your covered breasts. He unbuckles your bra and helps you with the straps. The hunger in his eyes when he sees your bare chest is something you've never felt before. He dives down and begins sucking on the sensitive peaks.

Where his mouth isn't, his hands are, caressing you. You let out a moan and Max follows your lead. He lets out a moan and looks at your lust-filled eyes. He takes it as a sign to continue further down. When he grabs your panties and slides them down, you clench your legs together in order to avoid exposing yourself. Max, of course, doesn't accept that and opens them up again. He gasps at the sight, and bends down, placing kisses along your inner thighs.

"Can I touch you here?" He checks in.

"Yes, please."

"Good girl." He chuckles and leans into your heat. He dives in and starts licking, sucking, and teasing your entrance. He soon adds his hands to the mix, with his fingers flicking your clit while his tongue works the rest of your pussy. You feel your orgasm building up quickly, you're feeling ecstatic but your parents lecturing is pestering your mind and you can't help but whimper and move back from his care.

"I-I'm scared." You admit, on the brink of tears.

Max tuts, lies down next to you and holds you while you calm down again.

"I know this is a big step for you, Y/N, but you're doing so well, and we won't go any further than you're ready to."

He rubs your shoulder languidly until you let him know that you're ready again. He goes down again, but this time, he only uses his fingers.

"Does this feel good, mijn schat?" He checks in.

"Oh shit, don't stop." You force out, bucking your hips and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

He works your clit like a pro, and you feel an unfamiliar knot in your stomach.

What is happening? You thought. Before you know it, the knot snaps, and you scream out the first orgasm of your life.

You pant heavily and look at Max, who smirks down at you, clearly pleased with his work.

"So that's what it feels like…" you say.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Honestly, I've never been better. Thank you, Max."

A couple of weeks pass and you repeat the same routine every night you spend together. He's giving you at least one orgasm per day.

You started feeling selfish, yearning to give him the same treatment back but not knowing how to bring it up with him.

You wait patiently for him to make the move, but he never asks. Being the gentleman he is, he doesn't want to pressure you.

"Max, tonight I want to make you feel good too." You say as he makes his way down your stomach to your already sopping core.

He slowly looks up at you in shock. Never could he believe that you'd be comfortable pleasuring him this soon. You could see the outline of his manhood in his briefs as he sat up.

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to, I'm enjoying giving you pleasure and I don't mind keeping it that way." He asks, but behind that caring gaze is a look that you can't place, it's like a fire out of control.

"No." You say as you grab his wrist. "I want to do this."

"Okay. Let's switch positions." And with that, you find yourself on your knees.

"Ready? You can start by touching me, and getting used to the feel and how I react to your touch."

"Like this?" You ask as you take his member into your hands, feeling and studying him, and rubbing up and down his length.

"Yes, Y/N. Just like that, oh god, don't stop."

When you touch the head of his throbbing and leaking dick he lets out a moan.

"Do you like that?" You smile up at him.

"God, yes." He responds.

You continue stimulating him with your hands, and when he announces that he's close you bend down, and give the tip a lick. He's bucking his hips at this point, desperate to come.

"Don't stop, Y/N, please." And you continue pumping him with your hands and you take the head into your mouth, sucking down on it. With each bob of your head, you take more of him into your mouth.

"Where do you want my seed?" He asks desperately.

With your mouth full of dick you only look up at him, and when he comes a few seconds later, he pulls you off him, but leaving you at close proximity. He pumps his cock which starts twitching and splurting out white streaks of cum. You've placed your face under him and feel the warmth on your face as he pumps out every last drop of his fluid.

"Y/N, that was fantastic, you're fantastic! Such a good girl for me…" He praises you as he cleans the sticky mess off your face.

Miami.

You'd spend your time at the grandstands as usual, all to avoid getting associated with your boyfriend. You didn't feel like it was time to make your relationship public yet, Max would love to to make your love for each other official, but you didn't want to because of the tendency to get called out as a gold digger by the so-called fans.

It was warm, insufferably warm. You wore a flowy white sundress but were still sweating.

You were there with the other fans to cheer Max on as he drove past the checkered flag in the first place and yelled his name when he stood on the podium and heard the Dutch anthem as you had many times before, both at home but also when you'd attended races before.

Max and you shared the hotel room, much to your pleasure. You arrived before him, because of the interviews and briefings he had to do after the race. After you stepped into the room, you undressed and threw yourself onto the bed, naked. You were sticky and sweaty from the warm and humid weather. Getting yourself freshened up felt fitting, so you poured yourself a bath and sank in. The cooler water felt like heaven as you scrubbed your body clean.

You had no idea how long you stayed in that bath, but it must have been quite long because when you were in the process of drying off, you heard Max arriving.

"I'm in here!" You yell as you see Max peeking in through the door.

"Hi, my love." He tuts as you try to cover yourself up.

"Congrats on the win!" You smile at him.

"Thank you, schat. Now, what do you say about a special celebration?"

Slowly, he grabs the towel and lets it fall to the floor. His breath hitches when he sees your naked body.

"Ohhh… This is exactly what I was looking forward to when I walked up to the room."

For what seems like an eternity, you stand there while Max simply takes in your beauty. You cross your arms in order to cover yourself up.

"No, no, baby. Let me see you."

You both take deep breaths as you process your current experience. With each passing second, you can feel your core becoming increasingly hot.

"Max… Need you."

"Do you now?" He asks, with admiration in his eyes.

He steers your body towards the bedroom without breaking eye contact, analysing your facial expression as if he's afraid to accidentally overstep a boundary.

"You decide what we do today, liefje, I'm just your guide."

You stand there for a moment, considering your next move carefully. You sit down on the edge of the king-size bed. Max follows and sits down next to you, unable to keep his hands to himself. His hands are caressing your hands, arms, thighs, face, anywhere he could reach.

It didn't seem fair that you were sitting naked while he was fully clothed.

You straddle him in order to get closer. He seems surprised by your sudden confidence and pulls you impossibly closer to his warm body.

You lift his shirt gently and start tracing his stomach. Your touch leaves goosebumps along his skin, and he closes his eyes.

"Feels so good, sweetheart." He admits.

You remove his tee and begin working on his belt to remove the skinny jeans as well. The pace is slow; you take your time with one another. Max gently touches your sides as you unbutton his jeans. He assists you in removing them, leaving you to admire the magnificence of his body in front of you. Your gaze travels down to his growing member, making you look away.

"Come here." Max encourages you.

As you lie down next to him, he moves halfway over you, placing his leg in between yours. He places soft kisses along your jawline, along the edges of your mouth, along your eyebrows, along your collarbone.

"Is this okay?" He asks.

"Y-yeah." You nod as you pull his head closer to you. He moves down to your exposed breasts and starts sucking on the hardened nipples. His tongue caresses your tits and you feel your heat dripping in anticipation.

"Oh god, Maxie, need more." You comment.

"Patience, love." Max smirks.

His statement makes you groan, looking away from him, trying to cover yourself up.

"You're okay." He smiles as he continues massaging and sucking on your tits. The purple and red marks he leaves will be visible for days but you don't care at the moment.

His mouth finds your stomach, and there too, he leaves marks. When he reaches your mound, he stops.

"Can I go further?" He checks in.

"Yes, please, Maxie!" You instantly reply, sounding desperate.

Max hums and gives your mound a couple of appreciative kisses.

He moves down to your heat, and as you already knew, your juices were already leaking. You feel his heavy breaths on your clit, and Max stays there for a while, relishing in the sight of your pussy.

Then, out of nowhere, he plunges in.

The way he circles your clit causes you to buck your hips up and down again. He pushes down on your stomach and grounds you, continuing to eat your pussy. He teases your entrance with his tongue, opening you up a little.

"Taste so sweet…" He whispers under his breath.

Max has learnt what works for you these last weeks, and in 5 minutes you've had your first orgasm for the night.

You squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure, completely out of breath. Your chest keeps heaving up and down despite your best efforts to find your breath again, but just as you're about to fill your lungs with air, Max laps around your clit.

When he inserts a finger, you yelp.

"Shhhh, it's only my finger."

He curls his finger up towards your sweet spot and you yell out.

"Hngh, gonna cum again…" You manage to say in a strenuous tone.

Hearing that, Max starts sucking and pumping into you harder, and within a couple of seconds you're pushed over the edge once again.

You yell out your spasms and Max pauses, knowing you easily get overstimulated after cumming.

"More, more, more…" You chant.

"Do you want to go all the way, Y/N?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Maxie." And with that, you sit up, pushing him onto the bed.

You take his length into your hands and pump him a couple of times to see how he reacts to your touch. He looks up at you with blown eyes, giving you a wide smile. When you pump him a little harder though, his mouth turns into an O shape.

"Treating me so good, princess."

"Yeah? What about if I do this?" You ask and take his tip into your mouth. As you hollow your cheeks, you hear Max groan loudly but you're too occupied with taking his cock further into your mouth. You bend down a little further until you're on the limit of gagging. You don't dare to go lower. Max gives you an approving look, making sure that you're okay.

Your velvety soft cheeks must've driven Max incredibly close to the edge because you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. You can feel the salty precum on your tongue.

Oh lord, what if your parents found out what you were doing at the moment? They would disown you for sure.

You release his member from your mouth and brush the drool away with the back of your hand.

"Do you think you're ready for me?" He coos.

You stay quiet, pondering your answer carefully. You roll the ring around your finger nervously.

"J-just be careful." You stutter to him.

"Of course, my love." He whispers back as he places you on your back.

"Spread your legs for me." He asks of you while he pumps his cock.

You lift your knees up and slowly spread your legs a little.

"A little more." He demands. You spread them a few centimeters more before you close them shut again in embarrassment.

Max quickly finds himself at your side, peppering you with kisses and praise.

"Liefje, I know this isn't easy for you. I know your parent's lectures are plaguing your mind at the moment. But I just need you to know how incredibly beautiful you are and how turned on I am by you. Here, let me help you…" He says and spreads your legs with his hands. "There you go, good girl."

"I-I'm scared." You admit.

"What are you scared of?"

"The pain?" You ask yourself. You didn't really know what you were scared of, but it was eating you alive at the moment.

"As long as you relax and breathe, you'll be fine." Max comforts. "Ready?"

"Y-yeah." You nod.

He lifts your legs over his strong arms and pulls you closer to him. He pushes a finger into your pussy, and soon adds another one. The stretch scares you at first but you adjust after a couple of gentle pumps. Then, a third one. That's when you start to panic; if you're in this much pain now, how much more will you experience when Max fucks you?

But Max is good, and he slightly pulls back his fingers and slowly pushes them in again, opening you gradually.

When you feel his tip against your opening, you think of what he just told you. Relax and breathe.

"I'll push the tip in first, sweetheart, let me know if it's too much. Breathe with me."

When he lines up with your entrance, you look up at him. He looks like a god like this. Your gazes meet, and you start to breathe together. When he places his tip against you and gives it a little push, you feel a jolt of pain between your legs and yelp by pure instinct.

"You're okay, it's just the tip."

You cry out as Max stays put where he is. He looks down and concludes that the tip is indeed inside.

The face you make when he pushes into you a little further seems to worry him. You can't breathe, can't move, can't speak. The pain is too much to handle.

Max pulls out a little in order to let you recover. You've adjusted well to his tip, you can't feel any pain when just the tip is in.

"Do you want to continue?" Max asks.

"Of course I want to! I'm not backing down now." You exclaim.

Max pushes into you a little further while he caresses your hips. He watches your face in pity.

All of a sudden, after adjusting to his size, the pain subsides and as he's pumping into you, you feel pleasure. You gasp at the feeling of him inside you.

When he bottoms out, you both moan into each others mouths as you kiss.

"So tight for me, schat." He whispers in your ear.

You only groan as an answer, too overwhelmed to form any words. His pace is slow at first, but after checking in with you, his thrusts pick up in speed.

His hips piston into yours and you cry out another orgasm, lightening something within you. Your body is completely limp at this point, exhaustion evident in everything you say and do.

He grabs your hands, places them above your head, and holds them down with his bigger hands. Not that you'd have the energy to move your hands anyway.

His pace is relentless, fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.

"Turn around." He says as he guides you on your hands and knees.

Agonizingly slowly, he pushes into you again, taking care not to hurt you. This position makes you feel everything even more. As if things weren't intense enough, Max moves his hand down to your clit, circling it with his fingers.

"Where do you want my cum?" He asks.

You hadn't even considered this. "What about… In me? I'm on the pill, you know that."

"Hmmm… Classic." You and Max chuckle together.

Max does as you ask and spills his seed impossibly deep within you, chest heaving against yours. All you know is him for what feels like an eternity.

Your chests are heaving against each other, both of you out of breath.

You can't help letting out a small whimper when Max parts from you. You collapse on the bed from exhaustion.

You hear Max in the bathroom, and decide to check on him. When you're about to enter you crash into him.

"Oh! Sorry, I was just about to come get you. I'm running a bath for you, and I've brought a towel if you want to clean yourself up."

You spend the rest of the night talking while Max helps you bathe.

You grab the purity ring on your finger and throw it on the nightstand, not caring about either the ring or your parents opinions anymore.

You fall asleep comfortably, knowing that you were brave enough to finally do it. You finally surrendered yourself to the man you love and adore.

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artytaeh · 5 months ago

Note

honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#hp fandom #slytherin boys #slytherin boys react #hp fanfic #headcanons #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle husband #mattheo riddle honeymoon #mattheo riddle scenarios

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ckret2 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 58 of human Bill Cipher in a quantum uncertainty state between being and not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Everything you've wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

Let's rewind a couple of days.

####

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

"Welp," Mabel said, "I've got the rest of summer to try to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

####

Friday, 11:04 p.m.

It took less than five minutes before the guilt won.

Yeah, no, nope, nuh-uh, Dipper couldn't do this. Not to his sister. He rolled over and hissed, "Psss, hey. Mabel."

"Hm?"

"Listen," Dipper said. "I hate Bill, okay, but I care about you, and also I think Bill might be part of a prophecy, so, because of that—I... There's something I need to tell you."

####

11:15 p.m.

Bill hadn't even had time to start dreaming before something dragged his mind back into the waking world.

There were white points of light as he passed through the hazy twilight of half-sleep. Those lights were his eyes. Lately, every time he started to wake up, he'd been seeing his eyes in the distance.

This time, there was one right in front of him, so bright it almost blinded him. He thought he could see something in the light.

He touched it.

And then he woke up, laying on his cushion bed as usual, watching as Mabel slid out of her room, crept near, and knelt beside him. She shook his shoulder. "Hey, Bill. Wake up."

And then he woke up—which was strange, considering he'd just done that—and stared at the dark inside of his hoodie.

He pushed back his hood. There was Mabel, crouched next to him, just like he'd "dreamed." Huh. Well done, Cipher, it seems you've just learned a new trick.

He tamped down his excitement; he could figure out what to do with this trick later. For now, he had a higher priority. "'Sup, kid?" He pushed himself up on an elbow, roughly flipping his hair out of his hood so it wouldn't keep tickling and choking around his neck. "It's the middle of the night." He yawned and mumbled, "Not that it makes a difference to me, but..."

"Shhh! We've gotta stay quiet," Mabel whispered. "I need to get you out of here. They're gonna kill you."

He sat bolt upright. "All right," he said. "You have my attention."

####

Dipper refused to say how, but according to him they'd synthesized just enough fuel for one shot with their fancy quantum whatever gun, and they couldn't make any more. They planned to execute Bill once Mabel was gone.

Mabel could just open a door for Bill and let him escape in the middle of the night—but that had dangers of its own. Bill would have to travel to a hiding place on foot—and his shoes were crap for hiking—his feet were also crap for hiking—and he'd only have until the adults started waking up and realized he was gone. Even if he kept moving all night, the adults would probably be able to cover the same amount of ground in a couple of hours, he'd probably inadvertently leave a trail a mile wide, and the forest's local supernatural population would definitely snitch if one of the Stans asked if they'd seen anything.

Plus, it wouldn't be very hard for the adults to figure out that Dipper had cracked and Mabel had helped Bill escape, and then everyone was in hot water.

They needed a way to cover Bill's escape to make it harder for the adults to pick up his trail, to give him as much time as possible to get some distance from the shack, and to delay Mabel getting in trouble. ("And Dipper," Mabel said. "Sure," Bill said unenthusiastically.)

But if they could, it would be best if they found a way to ensure the adults never even thought to look for Bill, Mabel never got in trouble at all, and the Quantum Destabilizer could never be fired again.

It was possible, Bill said. It wasn't guaranteed, but it was possible. They had a good chance. A very good chance. In fact, never mind, he'd decided it was guaranteed, they'd pull this off easily.

All they had to do was fake his death.

He knew a way.

####

11:45 p.m.

Dipper was stirred out of a drowsy near-sleep by the door creaking open and a couple sets of footsteps shuffling in. He rolled over and squinted across the room.

Mabel was quietly collecting craft supplies—pens, papers, her small starter sewing kit she used for repairs. Bill climbed into the loft to grab some musty pillows and blankets that had been stored for years in a cardboard box.

"Mabel?" Dipper mumbled.

Mabel put a finger over her lips. "Hey Dipper," she whispered. "You can go back to sleep, we'll be up in the loft."

"Doing what?"

"Scheme-y stuff. Don't worry about it." She flung her arms around Dipper, whispered, "Thank you," and ran across the room to grab her backpack and the height-altering flashlight.

Dipper glanced toward the loft. Bill was waiting at the top of the ladder, a dark vaguely-triangular silhouette, only his eyes visible as they reflected the dim light like a cat's. Dipper had had more nightmares than he could remember about waking to find Bill hovering in the dark above him.

Bill's gaze flicked from watching Mabel to staring at Dipper. They made eye contact. Bill didn't say anything.

Then Mabel climbed up the ladder, supply-stuffed backpack slung over her shoulders. Bill gave Dipper one last silent look, then turned away to follow Mabel to the back of the loft.

Dipper rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

####

The plan was to create a dummy that looked like Bill to take the Quantum Destabilizer's shot in his place, while the real Bill got as far from the shack as the weirdness barrier around town would allow.

Bill told Mabel that the dummy didn't need to be complicated: he had an enchantment that could make it completely convincing. All he had to do was write out a spell and leave the paper over the dummy, and anyone who looked at it would be convinced it was really him in the flesh.

Similarly, sneaking Bill out of the shack didn't need to be complicated. They could shrink Bill down and stick him in Mabel's backpack, and all she'd have to do was come up with an excuse to get out of the car and set him free before they left town.

The hard part would be the choreography of the whole thing. They needed Bill to put in an appearance that morning, to prove it really was him walking around; and then go somewhere that Mabel could hide him away without anybody noticing; and then ensure that nobody would see the Bill dummy until they were safely out of range, just in case. "The enchantment's pretty good," Bill said, "but the more people see it and the longer they get to look at it, the less potent it gets. And all it'll do is make the dummy look like me—it won't be able to walk and talk. It's best if the only person who gets a good look at it is my executioner."

The word executioner made Mabel shudder. It would probably be Ford, wouldn't it? She knew he thought he was doing the right thing. She knew it wasn't the first time he'd tried to destroy Bill. She knew she'd been fine with it last summer. She even knew that Bill would be okay. But all the same, she wasn't sure how she'd look at Ford the same way.

Once they had the dummy set up somewhere away from the family's prying eyes, they had to discourage everyone from trying to approach "Bill" until they were ready to kill him. And, ideally—just in case the executioner tried to speak to Bill or the enchantment otherwise failed—they should stage it all in a way so that no one would think Mabel had been involved in the escape plan.

The solution was obvious.

"I live to cause drama for no reason," Bill said. "I upset mortals recreationally. Can you act?"

"Can I act? Pshhh!" Mabel flipped a hand dismissively. "Maybe you were too busy badly impersonating my brother to watch, but last year I kind of staged an entire puppet show performing and singing as every character."

So it was a plan: they would stage a fight.

They were sitting in the very back of the attic loft, behind stacks of forgotten boxes and abandoned junk, beneath the meager light of the loft's window. Bill didn't need the light. He had a pen and paper and was writing out his enchantment's spell while they talked, long lines of inscrutable text. It was so dark that Mabel couldn't even see what language he was writing in, but that was fine; Bill had said that if she read his spell—if anyone read it—it would break the enchantment.

"Whoops," Bill said, "yeah, afraid I missed your whole show! I was too busy backstage trying to avoid your friends and looking for a way onto the catwalk."

Mabel shook her head in disapproval. "You would have liked it. There were live pyrotechnics and lasers and fog machines and a giant tentacle monster war and seventy-four songs and puppets!"

"I'll admit, sounds like a killer show. How about gore?"

"There was a whole song about my love interest getting his legs chewed off in the war," Mabel said. "The sock puppets don't have legs, but everyone knows your own imagination is a lot scarier than anything you actually see."

This kid could have a brilliant artistic career as a serial killer. "That's familiar. Is this war based on that 'cats versus the giant octopus' dream you keep having?"

"Yeah, and you'd have known that if you'd actually watched the opera! Too bad you missed the whole thing," Mabel said. "I guess you were just too busy being evil to appreciate the simple joys of a good, clean, non-villainous puppet show."

"Oh no, I can't believe my actions have consequences," Bill said flatly. "What would I ever have done if you hadn't enlightened me."

"Died, probably."

Bill glared.

"You know! Like you did last summer? As a consequence of your—"

"You shush."

Bill shoved Mabel away when she started to laugh, and held the enchantment up between their faces so he didn't have to look at her. He read his work over, then folded the paper in half and half again. "Hey, maybe you can put on an encore presentation sometime." Bill carefully inscribed four symbols in a square on the folded paper. "I promise I'll laugh at the jokes and fake cry at the sad parts."

Mabel shuddered. "No way. I'm never touching that show again. Too many bad memories."

"Awww, how come?"

Mabel stared at Bill.

Bill said, "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Mabel said coldly. "Thanks."

Bill shrank back. He leaned against a cardboard box, not sure where to look, drumming his fingers self consciously on the floorboards. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to make it better.

"Hey," he said. "If you ever change your mind about reviving the show... can I play the reverend again?" He grinned.

Mabel wadded up a paper and chucked it at Bill's face.

####

They agreed that scripting out every bit of the argument would make it sound too fakey; and anyway they were going to do this on no sleep and with no time to practice, if one of them forgot a line mid-argument it would ruin their entire plan. Bill said he was great at improvisational acting (which Mabel suspected was his way of trying to make "great at lying on the spot" sound good), and Mabel was a pro at getting into character for pretend games, so this should be easy. They just needed to choose a few topics they could realistically argue about.

So they started making a list of things that would totally infuriate each other.

"I can't think of anything that would make me furious," Bill said. "Outside of something serious like a murder attempt, anyway. I'm an even-tempered triangle! I don't sweat the small things!"

"You got sooo mad when I forgot to tell you about my Summerween plans."

Bill grimaced. "Right," he muttered. "That."

Teasingly, Mabel asked, "Are you still grumpy I made plans?"

"I was not grumpy you made plans. I wasn't grumpy at all! I just would have appreciated if I'd known sooner, I planned my whole evening assuming I'd have somebody around to open doors—"

He saw Mabel's increasingly amused smirk, stopped himself, held up a hand, and said, "I'll save it for tomorrow morning."

Mabel wrote down the idea beneath four ideas she'd already scratched out. She'd temporarily removed the crystal from the height-altering flashlight so she could illuminate her paper while she wrote. "The concert will definitely come up tomorrow morning! And you can act like that's the first time you heard about it."

"Sure, no problem. We haven't talked about the concert where your uncles could overhear, have we?"

"I don't think so."

"Then that's perfect. I can pretend to be mad you didn't tell me." Bill forced a smile. "All right, your turn." He rested his elbow on his knee and his cheek on his fist. "I realize that, apart from the unfortunate meat suit, I'm the most flawless person you've ever seen—" he ignored Mabel's raspberry, "—but for the sake of argument, just imagine something you might get mad at me for."

"Um... insulting Dipper?"

"Now that sounds fun. But no, can't risk it, he'd be too tempted to jump into the argument," Bill said. "Besides, what if I said something you agreed with?"

"What! Why would I agree if you insulted my brother?"

"He smells like a sweaty ferret and when he has a crush he turns into a creepy little stalker."

Mabel laughed. "Yeah, he does. Okay, um..." She went silent for a moment, tapping the butt of her marker on the paper.

She stopped tapping; and then quietly said, "I'd be so mad if I thought you were trying to keep me from hanging out with my friends."

"Oh, I could do that easily." Bill reviewed his wording, decided a human could take that as a threat, and quickly amended himself, "Could pretend that I'm trying to do that easily. You know I'd never, but hey, the adults here are ready to believe the worst about me—"

"You promise?"

"Sure I promise!" He processed the question after he'd already answered it. "Hold on—you think I'm the kind of person who would do that?" He was, but he didn't want her to see him that way.

She shrugged, looking down at her idea list again. "You've done it to other people."

"Name one!"

"Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket."

Oh, of course. That snitch of a backstabbing ungrateful ex-student, bane of Bill's entire miserable postmortem existence. Had to find as many ways as possible to make Bill look bad, didn't he. "All I did was tell Stanford that hick was a coward and a flake. I didn't make him do anything! If he agreed with me, that's on him." Bill crossed his arms irritably. "And Specs was a coward and a flake. Is it a crime to be right?"

"But you ruined their friendship on purpose, didn't you."

Bill tried to find a graceful way to wriggle around the direct accusation that excused his actions without contradicting whatever she might already know. "Did not," he said.

Mabel frowned at him.

Bill averted his gaze. "So! That's great. Trying to keep you away from your friends. Something I've never done to you but would be a really good thing to fight about. What else."

Mabel sighed and looked over her list again. She wrote something, scratched it out; started another line and scribbled it out; and then said in exasperation, "Your morals are terrible."

Bill had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his sudden laugh from waking Dipper. "You've got too many morals, it's your biggest character flaw. How many does one person really need, two or three? That's an easy topic, arguments about morality can drag out for hours!"

"We probably only need to fight for like ten minutes, right?"

"Sure. List done! That's everything we need."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. She read over the list, glanced at the flashlight she was reading with, and said, "I should get extra batteries. It'd be the worst if we got you way out of the shack and then the batteries died while you were still small."

Bill wasn't sure about that. Being so tall for weeks on end felt awkward and wrong. His limbs were always in the way. He bumped into things he should have been able to slide between. The more time he spent in this body, the more he wanted to spend a month at the size and thickness of a greeting card. He joked, "Hey, I don't know; it'd be easier to hide..."

"Yeah, and easier to get squarshed." Mabel turned off the flashlight and picked up her backpack. "I'm getting batteries."

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill picked up her list to see what topics they'd found to argue about so far:

Weirdmaged

Making me think you were Blendin to get the

Kitten fists meow meow

Almost killing me

Not sharing Summerween plans

Trying to make me kill myself by

Ruining Glove Story

Insulting Dipper

Insulting Waddles??? (too lovable!)

Weirdm

Mabeland Isolating me from everyone

Spray painting your eyeball

Weir YOU'RE TOO EVIL!!

I'M TOO NICE!!! ♡

He reread the list, feeling his guts writhe and twist involuntarily.

Yeah. Those were all the things he'd decided not to bring up, too.

At least they were in agreement on what they didn't want to talk about. That was true friendship, right? Friendship didn't mean never hurting each other; it meant mutually agreeing never to talk about it again.

He read the list a third time.

####

A spare pair of Bill's black leggings and a pair of black socks would serve as half of the decoy body, stuffed with old bedsheets and half a pillow that Mabel had sized up with the flashlight so it was closer to Bill's actual torso size. For the time being, the top half of the decoy was constructed out of a flannel shirt; Bill would have to put in an appearance downstairs in his hoodie, and then they could quickly go upstairs and put it on the decoy to complete the look.

He'd miss that hoodie almost as much as he missed his own face. But it was a small price to pay for his life.

"I don't know," Mabel whispered, inspecting the dummy with the flashlight from near the edge of the loft. "It doesn't look super convincing. It's kind of lumpy all wrong." She knelt by it and tried to poke the fake thigh into a slightly more convincing shape.

"Don't worry about it," Bill whispered, waving the folded paper with the secret spell written inside. "The enchantment will hide all that. As long as the dummy looks mostly human at a glance, no one will notice anything."

Mabel gave it one last worried look, but nodded and turned off the flashlight.

####

Mabel crept out of the office and eased the door shut. "Got it," she whispered, holding up a faded black umbrella. "Are you sure you don't want a better umbrella, though? Some of the spikes are broken and I think it's supposed to rain today."

"The other humans will be less likely to notice a broken umbrella going missing," Bill said. "Anyway, this one saved my life once. I'll take it."

"Then that's the last supply we needed to pack," Mabel said, sighing in relief. "It's still a couple hours until morning. Should we get some sleep?"

Bill considered it, and shook his head. "No. Better not."

Sleep scared him. Sure, he endured it when he had to—he had no choice—and, under the circumstances, although it was a close call, he grudgingly preferred sleeping to dying of sleep deprivation; but he kept it at bay as long as he could, sleeping irregularly, infrequently, and briefly. Knowing it was necessary didn't make the fear go away.

It was the helplessness of the whole thing—knowing that, once his mind had shut off, anything could happen around him, anything could happen to his body—and not only was he ignorant and defenseless, but he was also powerless to wake himself up any sooner than his tyrannical circadian rhythm dictated. He lacked even the power to think about waking.

If Mabel hadn't woken him tonight, he might have slept through his own death.

He continued, "What if we sleep in and don't have time for the fight? I'd be doomed." Bill didn't even have the luxury of an alarm clock.

"Oh—good point," Mabel said. "So we should probably do something to keep us awake."

"Right," Bill said, wracking his exhausted brain for an idea. "Overdose on caffeine?"

Mabel was quiet for a moment. "If this works, it might be a long time before we see each other again," she said. "You'll probably have to keep hiding until Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan leave town in the fall. And by then summer will be over, and I'll be back in California..."

She was right. If they pulled off this plan, he might never see Mabel again. It wouldn't exactly be safe to ring up the Mystery Shack. Sure, sooner or later he'd find a way to restart Weirdmageddon, and then he could invite her into his gang... And she'd join, wouldn't she? Of course she would. He just needed a chance to talk to her about it away from the closed-minded killjoys in her family that were holding her back. But until then...

She groped through the dark to grab at Bill's sleeve. "Dance party? While we still can?"

"Sure, star girl." Where had this lump in his throat come from? "Sounds fun. Dance party."

####

5:30 a.m.

It was the first time Bill had danced since his death.

All Mabel had to offer was Sev'ral Times, upbeat kid's show soundtracks, unlistenable synthesized junk, and whatever was playing before dawn on the radio stations that could reach Gravity Falls; the stained yellow shag carpet and homely plaid wallpaper made him miss the dark smoky rooms and strobing multicolor lights of a real club; he couldn't risk drinking this early in the morning if he wanted to have a head clear enough for escape; and he never forgot that, outside of the living room, the halls were empty and silent.

But he'd danced to music that made his eye bleed and his memories howl and he'd danced to no music at all; he'd danced in millions of crummy makeshift dance halls and night clubs and dive bars that had tumbled into or been cobbled together in the Nightmare Realm; he'd danced when he was so brutally sober that time in all its sharp cruel clarity seemed to have frozen to turn a spotlight on him; he'd danced with his worst enemies and he'd danced all alone; and there wasn't any force on this planet that would stop him from dancing now.

After spending four songs in a row making fun of Bill for attempting to figure out how to puppet a human body into some approximation of a dance, Mabel asked, "What were dances like on Flatworld?" It made Bill internally wince each time he heard it called that.

But he welcomed the opportunity for a break; he leaned back to half sit against the living room table, breathing heavily, arms trembling. "Dif—difficult question." He had to pause to catch his breath. His lungs and muscles couldn't keep up with him; this body was too hard to keep moving, so inefficient, 90% of the fuel that went into it was wasted uselessly. It was already beginning to atrophy in the few short weeks he'd had it, muscles withering from days stuck indoors with nothing to do but sit and stare out the window. He'd been made of pure energy for so long that maintaining all the little systems to keep a flesh body energized—food, water, sleep, exercise, not too much exercise, oxygen—felt like a Sisyphean torture. "S'like asking—'what're human dances like'? There's a—lot of variety."

"You know what I mean!" Mabel was still half dancing, bouncing from foot to foot. Bill wanted that kind of energy. "How do you dance?"

Bill shut his eyes, seeing colors flash behind his eyes—gyroscopic, kaleidoscopic, shapes spinning and whirling in spirals. "I'd show you, but there's not enough room in here for me to do a cartwheel."

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being serious! Plus I can't float. It wouldn't look right in a human body." It would look better if he cut his silhouette out of a piece of paper, taped it over a flashlight, and projected the shape onto the wall. "Tell you what—as soon as I'm back in my real body, I'll show you how I dance, all right?"

"Come on, Bill! You're just trying to wiggle out of—"

"Mabel," Bill said, "I can't do those dances in this body."

Mabel's teasing smile faded. "Really?"

"Unless you know a way to dislocate my shoulder so I can slide my entire arm from one hip over my head and down to the other."

"Ew." Mabel grimaced.

"It looks cooler on a triangle." Bill smiled wanly. "But hey, I spent all day yesterday teaching you everything I know—you can teach me something. I haven't used a human body in thirty years! What dances are popular these days, I haven't learned anything new since the moonwalk."

Mabel's eyes widened. "You know how to moonwalk?"

"Sure! It's easy. I figured it out in Stanford's body."

"I don't believe you. Prove it."

Bill pushed off the table. "Oh, yeah? Are you ready to look stupid?" He effortlessly glided backwards across the floorboards. He pointed at Mabel's gaping face as he passed. "What do you think of that?"

"Show me how to do that and I'll teach you every dance I know."

Bill grinned. He loved deals that were unfairly biased in his favor, and he loved it more when he didn't even have to propose them himself. "You've got yourself a deal, Shooting Star." It would keep them occupied for the next hour.

####

6:32 a.m.

About fifteen minutes ago, Bill had warned Mabel that he'd just glimpsed the beforeimage of Ford crossing the living room in the future; and then they'd kept partying, wanting to get in every last second of joy they could before he arrived in the present.

But once Ford was no longer approaching but actually there, seeing his face was like a bullet to the head. Bill had been having so much fun, for a few minutes he'd almost forgotten that today was execution day.

And it wouldn't be execution day if he had anything to say about it.

Bill demanded, "What's with the sour face?" (Ford's eyes were so dull, his expression so heavy; Bill had never seen him wear that look, not even any of the previous times he'd tried to murder Bill.) "Hey, am I not allowed to dance now?" He squeezed Mabel's hands tighter.

Ford just gave a tiny shake to his head and hurried past them, not even deigning to look at Bill, as though he were telling himself he'd only imagined he'd heard the voice of a ghost.

I know what you're up to, Bill thought at top volume silently in his head. But you won't do it. You won't do it.

He met Mabel's gaze. She gave him a tiny nod. Party was over. Time to get to work.

####

6:36 a.m.

Over the course of the night, Dipper had been woken twice by bursts of quickly-hushed laughter; three times by random bumps and thuds; once by Bill falling off the loft and Mabel's squeal of alarm; and several times by Mabel waking Dipper to ask if it was okay if she gave Bill Dipper's old shoes (so Bill could finally walk in the woods properly), his sleeping bag (so Bill didn't have to sleep on hard rocks under a single sad Pony Heist bedsheet), his "Edible Plants of Oregon's Blue Mountains" booklet (self-explanatory), and several other things he also said "yes" to without hearing properly. It had better be one heck of a prophecy that Bill was involved in, because Dipper was this close to just murdering Bill himself.

When Dipper went downstairs, he couldn't even look at Mabel and Bill—terrified something in his gaze would give the whole conspiracy away. He didn't even know what they were planning. Was dancing in the living room part of it? Was it some distraction? He'd hoped Bill would already be gone by now.

He couldn't meet Ford's eyes either, for the guilt of betraying his trust. He didn't deserve these scrambled eggs.

He couldn't meet anyone's gaze.

He really, really hoped Mabel and Bill had a plan. He hoped it was a good plan. Because whatever the heck they were up to—Dipper was afraid it was on him to prevent Ford and Stan from intervening too soon and finding out.

####

6:49 a.m.

After they'd escaped the kitchen, Bill glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs before Mabel got the attic door closed. "Do you think Ford noticed something?"

Mabel was already running across the room, retrieving her phone charger and phone to stuff in her backpack and pocket, making sure she'd packed everything she needed for her trip—everything except for Bill. "I wasn't looking. Did he?"

"I don't know." Bill flashed one last worried look at the door; but he couldn't afford to slow down, he had a dummy to finish. He hurried up the ladder, took off his hoodie, pulled on a tank top, tried to fish his pre-written enchantment out of his pocket in the same movement, and fumbled and dropped the paper over the edge of the loft.

Mabel had been checking her bag for the concert tickets when a paper fluttered down on her hair. She instinctively grabbed it and unfolded it before she registered the four sigils written on the outside and realized this was the enchantment Bill had said would stop working if anyone read it. She'd reflexively read the first few lines before she could stop herself. She froze. Her gaze jerked up to Bill, eyes wide.

Bill dropped down the ladder, snatched the paper out of her hand so quickly it almost tore, and immediately climbed back up. "I told you not to look." He carefully refolded it.

"Is that...?"

"It'll work," Bill hissed, with an insistence that said he wasn't sure it would work at all.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He held up the dummy's pillow torso and yanked the hoodie on top of it.

When Mabel didn't say anything, Bill sighed. "Even if it doesn't—this only needs to work until we're on the road. They can't stop us then."

"Bill—"

He shakily inhaled, and then he raised his voice loud enough he'd be heard downstairs. "What do you need to spend all that time around those two brats for, anyway?! What, am I not good enough company for you?!"

They didn't have time to adjust the plan. They were in the middle of it, right now, and the guys expected to hear an argument. Mabel swallowed hard and raised her voice as well. "Not when you're acting like this, you aren't! You're a bigger brat than—than both of—and my friends aren't brats!"

Bill bit his lip, brows drawn in pain, eye squeezed shut, trying not to laugh.

Mabel chucked a sock at him, don't you dare. "You can't say I can't hang out with my friends, that's stupid!"

"I never said you can't!" Bill held the folded paper a foot above the completed dummy, the square of symbols face up, and tapped it twice so it hovered in place when he let go. "Hang out with your stupid friends, I don't care! But two whole days is ridiculous—!"

####

7:02 a.m.

"I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND!"

All three eavesdroppers cringed—Dipper hardest of all. His heart was hammering out of his chest and his t-shirt was at least 50% sweat by volume. Was this part of the plan? It sounded like an insane plan. This couldn't be the plan. It had to be the plan. He'd already prevented Ford from intervening, what if they were really fighting? But what if this really was the plan?

"WELL! If you're gonna act like this just because I wondered what you're up to, maybe NOT! What kind of fun are you good for, you wouldn't even be into burning a house down!"

Dipper messed up. He'd actually ruined their friendship right before Bill was about to die and Mabel would be miserableand it was all his fault. This fight was real. They were furious. They hated each other—

####

7:03 a.m.

"OH YEAH, WELL—" Mabel faltered as she struggled to think of a fitting retort. "YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE INTO—into—n-NOT BURNING A HOUSE DOWN!" She cringed at herself, struggling not to laugh.

Bill had been fighting the urge to laugh so hard that his face was turning red. "OHHH WOW, GREAT COMEBACK."

Mabel's voice went shrill with suppressed hysterics. "SHUT UP!" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she socked Bill's arm. If he made her lose it when everyone was outside listening—

The door opened. "Hey—!"

They both rounded on Stan. "STAY OUT OF IT!" Mabel snatched up a discarded sweater. Stan shut the door just before the sweater hit it.

Mabel quietly wheezed, "Do you think he saw anything?"

"No, n—" Bill had to clap both hands over his mouth and nose to keep silent. Mabel wrapped her arms around him and smushed her face against his chest to muffle herself. They stood there, shaking, until the hysterics passed.

The stress was getting to them.

####

7:06 a.m.

"Fine!!" Mabel lifted the height-altering flashlight. "Then you can just stay here all weekend!"

Bill had on his backpack (Dipper had "agreed" Bill could take his) and was clutching his umbrella. He gave her a thumbs up; ready. "FINE!"

"FINE!" Mabel turned on the flashlight. When Bill was around four inches tall, she turned it off, knelt down, and offered her hand for him to climb on. She stuffed the flashlight in her backpack, carefully set Bill in a sweater nest (how had Gideon flung her and Dipper in a jar so cavalierly? she was terrified of snapping Bill's bones like toothpicks), zipped the backpack and gingerly put it on; and then Mabel was storming out of the room.

"Leave him in there," Mabel snapped, pointing at the door. She was shaking with fear. "He's in TIME OUT."

Dipper glanced nervously at the door, "Um..." He looked so worried. She hadn't had a chance to explain the plan to him.

Mabel glared into his eyes. She summoned up all her mostly placebic Twin Empathy Powers to beam her thoughts into Dipper's brain. Don't. Please don't. If you say anything you'll ruin it.

He raised his hands. "Okay, fine."

Mabel rushed past him to the stairs, trying to escape as fast as possible without jostling her backpack.

####

7:08 a.m.

Buckled into Mrs. Grendinator's car, voice shaking, Mabel said, "Can we just go? Please?" Now, before someone ran out of the shack and waved them down to demand Mabel explain where Bill had gone. Her hands were trembling in fear, clutched protectively around her backpack with its secret cargo. One of her best friends was in there. She couldn't let anything happen to him.

Mrs. Grendinator nodded. "Of course."

As they pulled around the Mystery Shack and toward the road, Mabel glanced toward the attic bedroom window, afraid the adults might have already gone in and discovered their trick; but no one looked back.

Now all she could do was hope the paper Bill had left floating over the dummy would do its job.

####

(Shoutout to the one person who theorized the size changing flashlight could be involved, I'd @ you but I don't want you to see this before you read the chapter. You may claim credit in the notes. Based on the messages I received, one person guessed Mabel got involved halfway through the fight, no one guessed she was in it from the start, and NOBODY guessed Dipper got involved.

For a fun time, go back and read last chapter and this one in chronological order via the timestamps!

But first I wanna hear all your thoughts.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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evie-sturns · 10 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: it's your special day, your 20th birthday! chris hasn't given you a present all day, and nothing seems to be going to plan, but he makes up for it later.

contains: public sex, smut, fluff, soft dom!chris, swearing, crying.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

8:54am

i wake up to chris planting kisses all over my face, a stupid grin painted across his face.

"chriss.." i groan, rubbing my eyes as i sit up in our double bed.

"happy birthday!!" he says, pulling me by my arms up onto the floor, im so unstable i stumble over.

my birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, everyones attention were on me, it was just going to be a stress-free day with my friends, my boyfriend and his brothers.

"shit." chris says, picking me back up, holding me in a bridal position. "you excited!!" he says, placing me back down on my feet

"love you chris." i smile, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the outfit ive had planned for days.

ive known chris for 11 years, he was my bestfriend until 1 year ago, when he became my boyfriend.

i strip off my pyjamas, leaving me revealed as i scramble through the shelves to find underwear.

i feel chris's eyes laying on me, "you feel elderly yet?" he says, breaking the comfortable silence.

i scoff "very."

"you look good for how old you are" chris jokes, walking over to my side.

i see his hand reach out, but he pauses instantly when the door rattles. "y/n!" i hear nick call out, i can hear the smile on his face.

"im butt naked right now nick, ill be out in a few!" i call out, chris shakes his head with a grin painted across his face.

"gross." i hear nick say back, slightly quieter this time.

"nick its 9 in the morning what do you take me for!" i say, pulling up my skirt, and readjusting my tanktop. i get on my toes, planting a kiss on chris's nose before unlocking the door.

im met with nick, a bunch of balloons in hand with matt standing next to him. their face light up as they see me.

"you're looking kinda wrinkly.." matt says, pulling me into a hug.

"do i actually look old cause you're the second person to point out my 'aging'" i ask, nick handing me the balloons

12:06pm

nick, matt, chris, madi, nate and i have been hanging around the sturniolos house for the day, i've spent the majority of the morning laughing, until a pile of wrapped presents from my friends appears in front of me.

i open them all, thanking whoever gifted it to me with a hug.

chris doesn't give me one though?

i brush it off, maybe he just forgot.

to make things worse, ive just been told madi and nate were both scheduled to leave at 1, both needing to go to nates final ice hockey game, which the sturniolos and i were going to skip.

"oh fuck, we better go madi." nate says, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his keys. madi's sighs before leaning down, squeezing me in a hug. my heart sinks a little, today was meant to be a day with my friends.

"love you y/n, we'll update you about what happens later!" they call out before the door swings shut.

ive been sitting on my bed for 2 hours, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as chris sits on the other side of the room at his desk in silence, the faint clicking noise from his keyboard filling the room.

today was meant to be perfect.

i feel my throat dry up as i let out a shaky breath.

ive never cried on my birthday, i've always been too distracted to even think about getting upset, but now, when today has just felt normal, the tears are building up.

i mean, it hasnt been a bad day. its just been too regular.

i feel a few tears fall down my cheeks as i stare at chris's back.

i try my best to stay silent, but a broken sob exits my mouth, i slam a hand over my lips. chris's head snaps back to look at me, his face drops. "oh shit.." chris mumbles before speed-walking over to me, throwing himself down onto the bed to face me.

the tears won't stop now, even with my failed attempts to make excuses up to chris.

"sweetheart please don't cry." chris says softly, holding me in a tight hug as my eyes dampen his shoulder. "talk to me gorgeous, i know you love your birthday you shouldn't be crying yeah?"

"i dont know.." i say in between sobs, chris stays silent, he knows im lying.

"i just wanted it to be perfect.." i sniff, chris rubs my back.

"can i show you something..?" chris says awkwardly, pulling away from the hug. my eyebrows furrow, "okay..?" i say. chris grabs my hands, pulling me up out of bed. he leans down and grabs a sweater from the floor, putting it on my body before taking my hand again.

he walks us downstairs in silence, he seems nervous. chris opens the front door, we walk towards his car and he opens the door to let me in. "ladys first.." he says, trying to lighten the mood.

we've been driving for about 3 minutes before chris breaks the silence, "i was meant to take you here later but.. you know." he says, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

i nod, chris accelerates slightly as we drive up a hill, we suddenly come to a halt. chris clears his throat, as he turns off the car.

we're parked in a small parking lot on top of a hill, theres trees directly infront of us, the sunset just peeking through the leaves. chris grabs my hand gently, "uh chris?" i ask, he just kisses my lips "shh."

we go through the trees until we they stop, my jaw drops, theres a small picnic blanket, some flowers layed on it along with a note.

its the same spot where me and chris kissed eachother for the first time, 4 years ago.

chris has never been the romantic type, he finds it 'yuck' apparently.

"chris oh my god.." i say, chris is fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. i sit down on the picnic blanket, with a groan chris sits down next to me.

"i think this is the sweetest thing anyones done for me.." i say, wrapping my arms around him.

chris shakes his head "shut upp..." he smiles.

"no seriously, i might cry again right now."

"don't you dare." chris says with a small laugh.

a comfortable silence grows between us as the sunsets, i break it after a few minutes.

"we should fuck."

"what?" chris says, his head snapping round to look at me.

"no just think about it, 4 years ago we had our first kiss here, so we should hook up here!" i say, concealing my laugh.

"i meannn whatever you want" chris says, trying not to seem as eager as he actually is.

i pull off my shirt, discarding it on the picnic blanket. theres trees behind us, and a cliff infront of us, its pretty private.

chris helps my shorts off, before laying me down softly on my back, he places his hoodie down under my head as a pillow. "you comfy?" he asks, spreading my legs open wider. i nod, chris pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, his erection springing out.

he smiles, holding my waist with two hands and lining himself up with me, "ready?" he asks, maintaining eye contact. "very." i smile back.

chris presses his tip inside of me, i stretch around his size, reaching out a hand, chris grabs my it.

he finally pushes the whole way into me, a desperate moan escapes my mouth. "such a pretty noise yeah?" chris says, his voice hoarse as he starts to thrust into me, his tip brushing my cervix each time.

strings of moans and whimpers exit my mouth as i squeeze his hand tighter, chris keeps a firm grip on my waist. "so so good for me, squeezing my dick so well." chris groans.

with each thrust, the knot in my stomach becomes tighter, i arch my back off the picnic blanket, "fuck chris oh my god." i yell, "cum for me gorgeous, can feel you clenching..." he says, stumbling over his words.

with a scream of his name the knot in my stomach snaps, chris pulls out, painting my stomach with white streaks. "g-..good girl." chris says, flopping down next to me on the blanket.

we've been laying here for the past hour, laughing, talking and watching the moon. the summer air is warm on my bare body, we both couldnt be bothered to get changed just yet.

"you know.." chris says, running a hand through his hair.

"hm?" i ask, looking over to see his face, which is barely illuminated.

"we should make this a traditon, ya know? birthday sex."

---------------------------------———————————-

i really liked writing this, thank you for the request babe

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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lucy90712 · 5 months ago

Note

Hey so for Jude Bellingham can you write like Jude cheating on reader, he is very distant with her and she tries to make plans or asks him things like how has ur day been but he either just gives her blunt replies or just completely ignores her. Reader finds out he cheated on her via his phone and she confronts him and she admits it. Then reader leaves him and moves on with someone else (not a footballer just someone random) and Jude regrets what he has done but it is too late. Like pure angst and please make it long! Thank you!

A/n: the timeline on this doesn’t really work but just ignore that

Part 2

Sitting in a restaurant alone waiting for someone to show up is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when people know who your boyfriend is and are very clearly judging you and thinking about what might be going on in your personal life. Then the most embarrassing part of it all is having to leave after sitting there for an hour.

No text no call and no answer. After getting home from the restaurant I stayed up for as long as possible to try and wait for Jude to come home so I could ask him why he didn't show up to the date he planned and invited me on but by 3am he still wasn't home. The next morning he wasn't in bed but he had clearly been home and then left for training but he still hadn't even read the texts I sent him last night. He did post on his Instagram story which explained where he was, he was at a party with all of his friends. I'd love to say that's the first time he's done this but it isn't in fact he's done it countless times in the last few months.

~~~~~~~~~~

Valentine's Day

Two hours ago I got ready in a cute dress and did my makeup ready to go out to dinner with Jude. He's been so busy recently so we haven't spent much time together but he promised me we'd spend Valentine's Day together, he got us a reservation at my favourite restaurant and told me to dress up. That's exactly what I did now I'm sat here still waiting for him to get home two hours after when he said he'd be home.

It hurts to be left just waiting I was looking forward to tonight and getting to spend some time together as I've missed having him around. He made this move to Madrid out to be the best thing for us but ever since things just haven't been the same. He's always busy and when he's not he chooses to spend time with his teammates instead which I understand but at the same time he's neglecting me and our relationship. I tried to bring this up but he shut me down and promised to spend more time with me which is how we ended up with this date but clearly it's not that important to him.

Close to 3 hours later Jude finally came home and looked at me incredibly confused when he saw me all dressed up.

"Where are you going?" He asked

"On a date with you remember you said we would go out for dinner because it's Valentine's Day" I said

"I'm so sorry baby I completely forgot this week has been crazy I promise I'll make it up to you another day but I'm so tired is a movie night instead ok" he said

"Yeah its ok" I lied

Birthday

As always I woke up to an empty bed and Jude having left for training. Today isn't any normal day though it's my birthday so all my friends are coming over and we are going to go out for lunch together then hopefully Jude and I can do something together this evening even if it's just watching something together on the sofa. When I grabbed my phone from my bedside table I had loads of messages from friends and family wishing me a happy birthday and my social media was filled with edits done by Jude's fans which were all so sweet. The only notable missing thing was a text from Jude but that's ok he might've been running late and forgot.

I forgot about Jude as soon as my friends arrived as they all spoiled me far too much but I had so much fun with them. It was nice to be distracted from real life and stop worrying about when Jude will be home, if he will remember it's my birthday or if he still cares about me at all. Once I got back home Jude's car was already in the driveway so I smiled and happily made my way inside to see him. I wasn't expecting Vini and Eduardo to be over but there they were sat on the sofa playing video games with Jude.

"Hey y/n happy birthday" Vini said

"I didn't realise it was your birthday Jude didn't mention it but happy birthday" Eduardo said

"Thanks guys" I said

"Where have you been babe?" Jude asked still not saying happy birthday

"I was with my friends they took me to lunch" I said

"That sounds fun" Jude said going right back to his game

His friends tried to leave saying he should spend time with me but he said it was fine and that I wouldn't mind so they stayed. While they all sat down stairs having more fun than I was I did some work with tears streaming down my face. My own boyfriend doesn't care about my birthday his teammates cared more than he did.

Anniversary

"Happy anniversary love" I said when I found Jude in the kitchen this morning

"Happy anniversary" he said

I tried to give him a kiss but he dodged it and went to start packing his things as he has an away game later today so he's leaving soon.

"I'm sorry baby I've got to go I'll see you later though" he said as he left leaving me all alone yet again

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is a day I always like to forget. Both of my parents died in a car accident two years ago today so it's always an emotional day for me and my siblings, we would like to spend it together to distract ourselves but as I'm in Madrid we can't do that. Instead my friends invited themselves over so that I'd have someone with me which made me feel so much better. They came over early so early that Jude was still here as he hadn't left for training yet. He was doing his own thing as the girls all sat with me and let me get out all my emotions now by telling them memories I have with my parents.

"You know they'd be so proud of you" one of my friends said

"I just wish they were here to see all the things me and my siblings have done all thanks to their constant encouragement" I sniffled tears still falling down my face

"Why are you crying babe?" Jude asked as he walked down the stairs

"Just thinking about my parents it's the anniversary of their death so I'm just a bit emotional" I said

"I'm glad the girls are here to make you feel better then I'll see you later ok" he said

With that he left and my friends all looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.

"How long has he been like that?" My best friend asked

"Like what" I questioned

"Like you don't matter he didn't even hug you before he left even after you told him why you were upset which he should know anyway dates like this are important for partners to remember" she said

"I mean it's been a good few months he missed our Valentine's Day dinner he didn't wish me a happy birthday until like 5pm and we didn't do anything on our anniversary" I said finally thinking about how badly he's been treating me

"Girl he doesn't deserve you he's taking you for granted and you don't deserve that" one of the girls said

"I hate to say this but you need to break up with him clearly he's given up on your relationship and now I might be wrong but wrong but it seems to me like he's found someone else" another said

They were right for months now I've been at the bottom of his priority list and he's nowhere near the Jude I used to know and love. There is no affection there anymore it's like the love we once had is gone. He also has definitely been distant and he's never home so there is a possibility that he could be cheating on me. That's a thought that I'd put in the back of my mind and didn't want to think about but now that someone else that has mentioned it I can't let the thought go. Whether he's cheating or not things definitely aren't how they used to be and I need to get out of this relationship before it's too late. The girls all offered their support and said I can stay with them for as long as I need which gave me the confidence to actually talk to Jude later today.

When Jude arrived home all the girls left and they wished me good luck which I definitely need as I'm nervous to actually have this conversation even though it needs to be done. Jude went straight to get in the shower so I decided to look at his phone because he told me the password but I have never used it as I trusted him at least until now. It took just seconds of looking for me to find texts between him and this one girl who he had clearly been seeing for months now. He kept saying he would break up with me but the time wasn't right yet and that he wasn't in love with me anymore which hurt to see. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears and instead just sent myself screenshots of everything and then deleted the evidence so he wouldn't know that I knew.

After his shower Jude took ages to come back downstairs but when he finally did he was looking at his phone and smiling it made me wonder if he was talking to her the girl he'd apparently fallen for. He quickly noticed me staring at him and he just stared back not having a clue what was going on.

"Jude we need to talk" I said

"Oh ok is everything alright?" He asked

"I'm just gong to say it I know what you've been doing and don't lie to me I have screenshots I just want to know when you fell out of love and why you did this instead of just ending things" I said barely holding back tears

"I don't know it all just happened I'm sorry I should've handled this better I didn't want to hurt you but clearly I haven't done a good job of that" he said

"Yeah you really have hurt me I should've known when you forgot about our valentines reservations but I was foolish and believed that you were just busy now I know you were with another girl" I said

"I'm sorry" he said

"I don't believe you Jude if you were sorry you wouldn't have let this go on for so long it's safe to say we are over I wish you well but please don't try and contact me again I need to just move on" I said

With that I gathered my things and just left. I left my key, the memories and what felt like half my heart but it had to be done I had to get out of there before I got hurt any more. It's time to move on and start a new life with people around me who truly care about me.

~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later

"Come on amor let's go" Carlos called from downstairs

"Coming" I said running down the stairs

"Oh wow you look gorgeous" Carlos said

"Thank you you look good too" I said

He kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand so we could head out to the car that was outside to pick us up. Just a few days ago Carlos won the French open so we are going out to celebrate. I met Carlos not long after I broke up with Jude I wasn't even looking to date but I just happened to meet him on a night out with my friends and we just clicked. He understood that I wasn't ready to date properly but he didn't give up on me so when I was ready we went on a date and the rest is history. My plan definitely wasn't to date another athlete in fact I wanted to just have a normal life and date a normal guy but I couldn't just let Carlos go and I'm glad I didn't. We have been together officially for 6 months now and they have been the best 6 months of my life he always treats me right and he makes it known how much he loves me.

Carlos has a lot of friends in Madrid so he decided to come here and celebrate his win with me and my friends as well as his before he goes back home to be with his family. There wasn't really any time to prepare anything so we are all just meeting at a club in town that isn't just open to the public so there shouldn't be lots of people there. All our friends were already there when we arrived as we got caught in a bit of traffic but they didn't seem to mind our lateness they congratulated Carlos on his win and we all went inside.

As we walked down the stairs all my friends turned to me at once and I wondered what was going on for a second until I saw what they had seen. Jude was right there along with a few of his teammates. I haven't seen him since our breakup which is somewhat of a miracle seeing as I still live and work in Madrid and he has become part of the city. I knew one day we'd meet again I was just hoping it wouldn't be in a day like today I don't want to be thinking about him or to talk to him while celebrating Carlos as tonight shouldn't be about me or my past relationship. Carlos knows everything that happened so once he saw Jude his hand reached for mine and he gave it a comforting squeeze which made me feel a little bit better. The thing is I don't miss Jude at all I'm so much happier now but what he did still hurts me so seeing him for the first time since is a bit painful.

"We can go somewhere else if you want" Carlos said

"No it's ok tonight is your night plus he shouldn't affect my life now that's the past you are my present and future" I said

"Ok as long as you're sure but you are sticking by my side all night" he said

Jude's POV

"Is that y/n?" Vini asked

Him saying that caught my attention so I looked in the same direction as him and there she was with all her friends and a guy by her side. I recognised the guy as Carlos Alcaraz the tennis player who just won the French open and a the guy y/n has been dating for at least the last few months. I found that out when late at night after we lost a big game I stalked her Instagram and saw a photo of them together on her private account that she forgot to remove me from. Since that night I have kept an eye on her Instagram I usually check it at least once a week to see what she's been doing and how happy she is without me.

Since the night that she broke up with me I regretted making all the dumb choices I made that led to that point. Within days I broke things off with the other girl I was seeing and I have been alone ever since I just can't bring myself to see anyone else because they aren't y/n. It sounds stupid because I'm the one that ruined everything I'm the reason she's with Carlos and not me but she was the one I just didn't realise how much I loved her until she was gone. My mum has always told me not to take things for granted as once they are gone you'll realise their true value and that's exactly what I did with y/n I didn't realise just how important she was to me until I made some stupid decisions and let her go.

I watched her with Carlos for a while and she seemed genuinely happy which made me realise that she hadn't been that happy with me for a long while before we broke up. It was clear to see that she loved him and I could tell that he loved her too because he looked at her the way I did when we first got together. It hurt to see her so happy with someone else because I know I could've had that but now I won't get to share any moment like that with her ever again. I deserve everything that has come to me I made bad choices and as much as I regret them now it won't change anything.

I have to let her go because for her to be happy I need to not be in her life as much as that hurts. They say if you love her let her go and that's what I need to do let the one go because as much as she might've been the one for me I'm not the one for her.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham #football imagine

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 5 months ago

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Just something very sweet and fluffy also featuring a grumpy Eddie 🤭🥰

Requests are open 💌

❤️

Eddie had been in a bad mood from the moment he woke up. Not even the lure of a Hellfire Club session could lift his spirits.

Exactly what had made him so moody was something he couldn't pinpoint. Maybe it was to do with the dickhead who blasted pop music most of the night and interrupted his sleep a few times.

Whatever it was, he was acting like a bear with a sore head and he couldn't even see you today to take away some of his grumpiness, seeing you always brightened up his day.

You wouldn't be at school at all today, something with your aunt came up and you possibly had to go out of town for the next couple of days.

At least he could channel some of his mood into the Hellfire session tonight, maybe unleash the group of orcs on the party, a story that he had been planning for a few days.

He gets up and dressed and heads to school, his van is being a pain in the ass and his head is thumping by the time he gets there.

Things weren't any better by lunchtime and he ate his pretzels and even had a bottle of Yoo Hoo (which kinda helped but just a little bit) but it couldn't help him with the fact that he had Mrs O'Donnell's class after lunch, he's pretty sure that the old dragon has it in for him.

He was pouty and very pissed off.

"Dude, wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" Grant asks which causes Gareth to snicker beside him, one sharp look from Eddie quietens him.

"It's because you know who isn't here today, remember she has some family thing to attend" Jeff shrugs.

"Yeah, thanks, dude. Like I need reminding that I won't see my girl today and I'm fine. Just a long night and a neighbour who's obsessed with playing endlessly shitty pop music" he shudders at the memory and the dude singing. Ugh.

"Aww thought you'd be up and dancing to Madonna" Dustin teases and Eddie flicks a pretzel at him, he's more amused than annoyed though, even if he's offended by the very thought.

Then the little shit is smiling at something over Eddie's shoulder and Eddie's heart skips a beat, delight flooding through him.

"Princess!" he beams and wastes no time rushing over to you and dramatically clutching his chest. Not caring one bit about the sneers from Jason and his idiot squad, he doesn't care about his don't fuck with me facade around you, you're the only person that reduces him to mush.

"I've missed thy maiden far too much and almost succumbed to a painful case of grumpiness" you snort and cuddle into him.

"I missed you too Ed's" you wrap your arms around him and feel the tension in his body ease.

"What happened to that family thing you had?" He asks curious and you shrug.

"Yeah turns out my aunt left her douchebag husband last night so she's staying with a friend instead of us for a little bit. She's okay which is the main thing" You cuddle back into his arms needing this hug as much as he does.

"At least the grumpy asshole might cheer up now" Jeff comments but swiftly shuts up when Eddie flips him the bird. At least with his princess here the day is looking infinitely brighter.

❤️

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #grumpy eddie

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kmt123whatsthetea · 1 year ago

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Room for two (NSFW)

Fred Weasley x fem reader x George Weasley

Fred and y/n have been dating for a whole but she still struggles to tell her boyfriend and his brother apart. The twins (being the horny, mischievous fuckers they are) decide to use that to their advantage and have a little fun. What can I say, Fred likes to watch…

TW: nsfw (under 16’s dni), mean dom Fred, mean dom George, degradation, no incest, sharing, voyeurism, spanking, slight bondage, no prep (evil boys 😏), unprotected sex, masturbation (male), face smacking, cum swallowing. I think that's everything.

A/N: This is not only my first Weasley fic, but also my first time writing smut, yay! Italic bold speech is a flashback except for the word ‘Kitten’. Read and it’ll make more sense lol.

1.4K words

“C’mon love, me and Georgie have missed you. Spend the weekend with us above the shop, it’ll be fun”

When the brilliant Fred Weasley invites you to stay with him and his brother above their shop in Diagon Alley, there’s really no option other than yes. You had been dating him for nearly three years and you loved him more than anything else in the world. A nice, quiet weekend with the Weasley twins would do you some good…

…but Fred had other plans.

____________________________________________

You arrived on Friday and walked into the shop, seeing one of the ginger haired twins behind the counter and the other stocking a shelf nearby, neither one aware of your presence. Fuck, which one was which? Maybe if you let them notice you first, you'd be able to tell. You pottered around the shop, browsing the shelves of different potions and colourful boxes containing all kinds of mischief, trying to attract the attention of the twin stocking the shelf. He looked up with a smirk and instantly knew what you were up to, and he didn't plan on revealing who he was just yet. He knew that Fred would be alright with this, they had discussed it the night before. He can still remember Fred’s words clear as day:

“She’ll love every minute of it, she can be a needy little slut when you give her what she wants”

“I've seen how she looks at you, she wants us both but she likes to act all innocent and pretend that she doesn't”

“You can have her for the night, as long as I get to watch. She’s my dirty little whore after all”

The twin in front of you simply smirked, knowing that with one simple nickname, you’d think he was your loving boyfriend. Getting you into his bed would be easier than Fred said it would be.

“Go on up, Kitten, and wait for me on the bed”

George smirked at how fast you moved up the stairs to the flat above the shop. He finished stocking the shelves before shooting Fred a wink and following you up. Fred had been watching everything. This was his idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to miss a single thing. You always acted so innocent when he talked about George, but he knew how you felt. He could practically see the way your mouth watered when you would watch them at Quidditch practice. He could see the way you rubbed your legs together when they sat either side of you in the common room. Now that you had all graduated, he had promised George a turn with you.

As soon as the shop shut and all of the customers had left, he would go upstairs and enjoy the show.

____________________________________________

You didn't even have time to enter Fred’s room and get undressed before George had come up behind you, gripping your waist tightly and sucking harshly on your neck. His right hand trailed up, practically ripping the buttons apart on your dress to reveal your bra covered tits beneath. He would never get sick of looking at them. When he’d sit next to you and look down your shirt, knowing that all of your attention was on Fred. He couldn’t help himself. George ripped off your bra, groping your bare tits harshly. He listened in on every gasp, every moan, and every whimper that you made, only becoming rougher as he pinched and tugged on your nipples.

“F..Fuck..Freddie…”

George chuckled darkly and tore your dress off, followed by your soaked panties. He pushed you onto the bed, smirking mischievously at the way your legs opened wide, your glistening cunt on full display for him. Poor little slut, George thought, Getting this turned on for her boyfriend's brother.

“On your hands and knees, now”

George growled, pushing his suit trousers down and getting behind you. He ran his hands over your ass before bringing his hand down swiftly, making you yelp from the stinging sensation. But he didn’t care, George seemed transfixed by the way your ass jiggled and the skin turned bright red. He kept spanking each cheek, making sure to leave handprints and a painful memory whenever you sat down.

“Freddie, Please…been so good, please fuck me. Need you so badly” you whined, your thighs rubbing together to give your needy clit friction.

“You’re such a desperate, whiney little slut. Bet you’d love nothing more than my cock deep inside of your slutty cunt. Keep begging, beautiful, let me hear how much you need me” George started stroking his cock to your pleas. He’d give you what you wanted eventually, he’d been dreaming of your tight pussy ever since his brother introduced you to the family. The younger twin suddenly had an idea and pulled your arms behind your back, tying them securely together with his tie.

He gripped your joined arms tightly and rammed his cock inside your wet pussy. The stretch made you yelp in pain and squirm in a (not so) desperate attempt to flee, but George only held you tighter, a cruel pout on his lips.

“Thought this is what you wanted, little love. Don't tell me you can't be a good girl for me now”

His cock was so deep, hitting that spongy spot that made you clench around him and shut your eyes tight. His hands gripped your skin with a bruising force, you were so close…

“Well, well, well, look who’s enjoying themselves” an identical voice quipped, but it wasn't from above you, it came from the doorway.

The older Weasley twin stalked close, making you squirm in embarrassment of being caught by your boyfriend's brother. But he only knelt in front of you with a devilish smirk.

“Guess my little kitten really is a slut for it, huh?”

Fuck

Your eyes widened as everything seemed to click into place. The man in front of you was your boyfriend, the man with his cock pressing deep inside of you was his younger twin brother. A pout spread across your lips, thinking that Fred was mad at you for being underneath George. But Fred simply got up and sat in the chair across from the foot of the bed, getting comfortable but exposing his hard cock.

“Go on Kitten, show Georgie just what a little slut you are. Put on a show for us”

George smirked and snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath from your lungs. He started his brutal pace that rubbed your insides raw. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you buried your head into the soft sheets beneath you. But George wasn't having any of that. He pulled you up by your hair, your back pressing against his chest, causing his cock to somehow push deeper into your cunt. You hissed at the sting from your scalp.

“Such a spoiled brat. Doesn't even say thank you for her lovely surprise” George spat next to your ear, his other hand coming up to lightly smack your face. “What do you say, slut?”

“Thank you, Freddie…Feels s..so good”. Your moans got louder with every word.

Fred pumped his cock, trying to match the pace his brother had set so that he could pretend that he was the one fucking you. But he knew you’d need more, you were his insatiable little slut. Fred simply looked into your desperate eyes and grunted through gritted teeth…

“Cum for me, Kitten”

At his command, you let the blinding pleasure take over your entire body. Your velvety walls clench around George, pushing him over the edge too. You could feel his cum spurt deep inside of you, staining your walls. He let go of your hair and you dropped forward onto the mattress. Fred got up and walked over to your fucked out body and you immediately opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, smiling as you felt his warm, salty sweet cum hit your tongue and lips. You swallowed all that he had given you and licked your lips, collecting every last drop. Fred stroked your hair softly.

“My turn, kitten”

#fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley smut #george weasley #george weasly x reader #george weasely smut #george weasley fic #weasley twins #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #weasley twins smut

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pixelnrd · 4 months ago

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On the eve of the new millenum, Ginger ran downstairs to inform her family of their potential impending doom. Having read all about it online, Y2K could posssibly be the biggest disaster they would face in their lifetime.

Her frenzied explanation of the situation as she tried to convince them all tospend their new years down in the basement caused confusion for the rest of the family. None of them understood why, and yet to appease Ginger in her heightened state they all agreed to go downstairs to Quincy's basement bedroom, which Ginger had turned into a temporary shelter.

'We all have to stay down here just in case, but I've got a whole cooler of food and beds for us all. It'll be fine! We just have to wait it out!' she insisted.

Once everyone realised that Ginger was trapping them all in the basement together, they were suddenly less compliant. But Jenny and Heather worried that Ginger might be right, so they decided that everyone should go along with it, just in case. Jasmine and Quincy were furious, and began to berate their sister for ruining their New Years plans. Everyone ate cold cereal for dinner and went to sleep on the floor.

Come the next day, having been trapped together in a basement for 24 hours, the tensions dissolved. Heather and Jenny woke up to find their near-adult children all playing video games together in their pjs, and talking to eachother with affection and kindness.

Ginger confessed to her siblings that she was scared of life once they left the basement. Even if things were all fine, and disaster had been averted, they were all about to graduate high school and go their separate ways for the first time in their lives. It scared her, leaving behind their shared childhood here.

'But Ginger, we're all still going to be friends,' assured Quincy. 'We'll always be in touch, even if we aren't living in the same house. We can always IM or email or text.'

'I thought you guys couldn't wait to get away from me, though,' confessed Ginger.

'No way! I'm going to miss you both,' said Jasmine, feeling sad too. 'Even if you guys drive me crazy, I love you both so much.'

It was like old times - being forced into the company of one another had broken down the walls they had all built up as they strove for individuality. Heather and Jenny smiled with happiness, seeing what kind and caring young people they had raised, who could put aside their differences to remember that they loved one another. They felt like they had got it right.

If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends 🎵

#sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #the langston legacy #gen 11 #1990s #heather lenowski #jenny prescott #jasmine prescott jones #quincy prescott jones #ginger prescott jones

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dracowars · 2 years ago

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H!i i love your writing and i wanted to make a request can you do a draco x reader where they have a fight and then they sleep in diffrent rooms and the reader has a nightmare so she goes to dracos room and then just fluff <3

fighter | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,2k

summary: where y/n and draco sleep in separate rooms due to an argument

a/n: i wrote this in one flow in the notes of my phone (i usually write on my laptop that's also why the " are different) and i don't know what happend, but i've never written something so fast. i hope it stays that way lmao enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog, it's so important!

warnings: angst, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"I can't believe you are being serious right now!", you scream at Draco, physically retreating from him as you take a few steps back in your anger, anger about what he just told you. The atmosphere in his big dark bedroom in Malfoy Manor doesn't help the cold that is now surrounding you, neither does your light sleeping gown that you put on mere minutes ago to finally get some well deserved sleep. That is until you got into this stupid argument.

Your whole body trembles and you desperartely run your fingers through your hair, waiting for him to tell you that it was just a joke, that none of it is real.

"I knew you wouldn't understand", is the only thing that leaves Draco's mouth and if you had been a few more meters away, you would have probably missed his murmur. But you caught every word he said and it makes you even more furious.

"Oh, so you didn't even think about telling me that you want to take your father's place among the Dark Lord's entourage? The one of your father who is currently, if I may remind you, trapped in Azkaban?!", you say while fully realizing the impact of these words. Draco really wants to become a Death Eater and follow Voldemort as his faithful footman until he decides one day that he does not need him anymore either and puts him into the same prison his father is currently residing.

"See? That's why I preferred not to tell you because I knew you would react like this", Draco only sighs at your emotional outburst, rubbing his palms against each other as he looks at the dark wooden floor beneath your feet.

"So you now support the Dark Lord? Is that it?", you ask, now directly looking at him in utter disbelieve, ignoring his previous words. In your opinion, this is the only reasonable reaction when you are told your loved one wants to basically throw his life, and everything he has accomplished, away. And you are a huge part of that life which he would discard. Just like that.

"Y/N, you are missing my point!", Draco raises his voice now too, no longer being able to withstand the hurtful words you are throwing his way. "I need to do this, alright? It is none of your business anyway."

"N-None of my business?!", you stumble over your words, not believing your ears but one look at his face tells you that he is being deadly serious. For a moment, you hold in your breath and stare at him, looking into his eyes that seem to have darkened now.

"You know what? Alright, if it is your business and you want to follow in your father's steps, then I'm not needed here anymore", you say with a fake smile on your lips, passing him without looking at him again and leaving the room with fast steps. You do not listen when he calls after you, because if he really wanted to solve this, he would follow you. The fact that he does not, sends another dagger through your already suffering heart.

Standing in one of the cold hallways of Malfoy Manor, watched by the few family pictures that hang along the walls, you make your way to the next guest room where you plan on spending the night before being able to leave first thing in the morning.

You open the creaking door and enter the room, taking a look at the large bed with dark green bedding. Sighing, you let yourself fall onto the soft blanket in defeat and look at the panaled high ceiling.

The next moment, all the emotions come crushing down on you and you let your tears run free, crying into the soft bedsheets, grapping a fistful of it in your hand. You don't know how long you just lie there and cry bitterly, but when you suddenly jolt out of your sleep, drenched in sweat, it takes you a few seconds to realize where you are. The realization hits you painfully as you lean against the headboard, knees pulled towards your chest beneath the thick blanket and your hands trembling, pulling the safety of the fabric more towards you.

You thought you had already cried out all of your tears, but this terrible nightmare paralyzed your entire body and the tears streaming down your already puffed cheeks do not seem to stop. Trembling, you lower your forehead onto your knees, closing your eyes to dispose of those bad images, but they keep appearing in front of you. Crying into the blanket even harder, your mind comes up with the only plausible solution and before you know it, you find yourself standing in front of Draco's bedroom again, slowly opening the door.

With only your head poking in at first, you squint into the darkness, searching for any indications if Draco is asleep or not. When you only hear his soft breathing, you sneak towards your side of the bed and climb beneath the cold blanket as quiet as possible, trying to sniffle your tears.

Draco, however, senses that something is wrong and shifts in his sleep, turning onto his back. His hand slightly grazes yours and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the sensation. It only takes two more seconds until Draco opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the warm trembling body next to him.

Pushing onto his arms, he looks at you, confused, but once he hears your sobs, he takes you into his arms without any words, enveloping you in his warmth. Burrying your face in the crook of his neck, your crying grows even worse and you claw his shirt as if he could disappear any second.

"I-I was so scared, D-Draco", you stutter once you have caught your breath a bit more, holding your hands in front of your mouth to stop yourself from breaking down again. "Y-You were a Death Eater and they- they took you from me. H-He killed you, Draco."

Draco, who was busy wiping away your tears while listening, stops in his movement, his lips slightly parted in shock. In this moment, he hated himself for making you cry like this, for causing you such a horrible nightmare that you ended up thinking that you had lost him.

"He won't, Y/N. I promise", Draco whispers finally, not at all sure what he is supposed to say right now. On the one hand, he wants to make everything right again, but on the other hand he knows that he has responsibilites that he can't run away from.

"You can't promise me that", you sob, wiping away your tears by yourself now, your hands still a shaking mess.

"I'm so sorry, darling, but I have to follow him", he answers, his voice shaking as he softly takes your hands in his. "Otherwise he is going to kill me. But what is worse is that he is going to kill my family. He is going to kill you if I don't obey."

As he says these words and lets down his walls, you see a single tear running down his cheek, finding its way onto your intertwined hands below.

"We- We will find a way, baby", you try to assure him, squeezing his hand lightly. "You don't have to do this. We just need to fight. For us. For your family. For you."

"I will."

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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

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yikesmary · 1 year ago

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FOUR: SHE FALLS HARDER — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where seungcheol takes care of you while you're sick and it leads you to interesting realizations.

notes: hi yes hello this series might end soon because i don't want to drag it on. there might be one more chapter after this one but i don't know how to end it so please be patient. or if you want, share some ideas with me.

i've created a taglist so join below!

join my taglist!

previous / next

"Cheol, you don't have to stay. You had plans and you shouldn't cancel them because of me,"

"I'm cancelling because I want to take care of you. What kind of person would I be if I went out with knowing you were sick," Seungcheol told you.

"But you've been looking forward to hanging out with your friends without me for the first time in awhile,"

Seungcheol gave you a look then said, "They're just not my friends, they are yours too, you know. I bet Joshua or Soonyoung would get offended you don't see them as friends,"

Giving you a glass of water and cold medicine, Seungcheol had made sure you drank a good amount of it without overdoing it. He then gestured you to lean forward, and then he fluffed your pillows.

"Go to sleep for at least a couple of hours. I'll call the guys and tell them I'm taking care of you," he instructed, before leaving the bedroom

You had somehow became sick overnight, feeling fine the night before and waking up with a headache and a stuffy nose. You tried hiding it from Seungcheol, in order to make sure that he was going out with the others.

But he knew you better than you thought, because he immediately noticed something was wrong that second you didn't tease him for his bedhead hair like you've done since he moved in. Which was why he basically shoved a thermometer in your hands and told you to check your temperature.

Knowing that you had no choice, you decided to listen to Seungcheol and take a nap.

The smell of something delicious being cooked woke you up. And when you opened your eyes and looked around, you forgot what was happening for a second. But then the events that had happened only hours before, where Seungcheol decided to take care of you took over your memory.

Standing up from your bed, you felt a bit chilly, so you took your blanket and wrapped yourself with it.

Shuffling out of the bedroom, you moved to the kitchen where the smell was coming from. And you saw a steaming pot of something which must be where the smell was coming from with Seungcheol stirring it slowly.

At the sound of your footsteps, Seungcheol looked up to see you bundled up in a blanket. He smiled softly at the sight of you before his expression turned into concern. "What are you doing awake and up? I thought I told you to sleep," he told you.

"The smell woke me up, it smells yummy," you said.

"I hope it is, or else my mother would kill me if I got her soup recipe wrong," Seungcheol said.

"You didn't have to do this for me,"

"Like I said, I wanted to take care of you. And the soup is no problem. When I was younger, my mom would make me the soup when I was sick and I always felt better after eating it. So, I thought you'd be the same," he explained.

The thought of him calling his mom and following the step by step instructions that came from her warmed your heart.

"The soup's almost done. I was planning to give the soup in bed but since you woke up, just sit there and don't do anything," Seungcheol said.

You followed his instruction, taking a seat at the table. You were still able to see him from your vantage point, so you settled on watching him as he prepared the soup.

He grabbed a bowl from one of the cabinets and was careful not to spill any of the soup when he poured it in. Seungcheol placed the soup on the table in front of you. "I hope it tastes good," he said, placing a spoon beside the bowl.

"Are you going to eat too?" you questioned.

"I'll eat later," he shrugged.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel better than earlier. I think it was one of those one day sickness, so the soup would probably make me feel fully better," you said, taking a sip of the soup and you hummed at how good it tasted.

"This tastes so good, Cheol," you complimented.

Seungcheol beamed at your compliment, and he was about to reply when he was cut off by the sound of your doorbell going off. You looked at him confused, but he seemed to know what it was about, so he stood up and walked to answer the door.

You went back to eating the soup, but the sound of various voices stopped you. Just then, your 12 friends entered the kitchen, hands full with gift bags. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked, surprised.

"Cheol told us you were sick and we went to buy stuff to make you feel better," Minghao said.

"Aww, you guys didn't have to do that," you said, taking the gift bag that Seungkwan was offering to you.

"Well, Cheol couldn't be the only one to see you," Jihoon said.

"Trust me, he tried stopping us," Jeonghan added.

Mingyu then spotted the soup you had and turned around to see that still steaming pot of soup on the stove. He tried reaching out for your bowl, but Seungcheol smacked his hand away. "Not for you, only for her," he told Mingyu, who pouted.

"You've never made us soup before," Jun said.

"Well, he's in love with none of us so,"

You froze at that, realizing how domestic this all must look. Seungcheol sacrificed his entire afternoon/evening to take care of you.

This wasn't something someone would do for their fake relationship, so now you were thinking. You guys somehow blurred the lines of what was fake and what was real.

You knew that this wasn't going to last forever. You realized that, as long as this relationship was fake, there was going to be an end someday. And you didn't want someday to come.

Since you were in love with him.

taglist (crossed out names mean tumblr isn't letting me tag you for some reason): @geniejunn @whyisaah @goquokka @wnewoo @aurasblue @dkluvrsclub @slut4donghyuck @staurdvst @whippedforjihoon @cakeart12 @venusprada @buffhoshi @cherryredcheol @heeseungdiaries @pluviophile-xxx @tyongff-ff @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @youre-on-your-ownkid @lukeys-giggle @scorpiobitch88 @forever-in-the-sky2 @joonsytip @haolistic @becauseiloveyunho @alonelystarfish @samvagejkflxhrt @violetvoo @ohmyhuenings @minghaossv @laurasseditss @sanniekook

#seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #scoups fic #seungcheol fic #scoups scenario #scoups imagines #seventeen scoups

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secretsandwriting · 9 months ago

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Obsessed

Ethoslab x gn reader

Where Etho is sick and the reader is dragged in to take care of him

As per usual, I've attempted gn reader but I am used to writing fem so if I messed it up let me know and I'll fix it

(UNEDITED)

You weren’t sure why you were pinged by Gem to meet at Etho’s base as soon as possible, but there you were, landing a few steps away from Gem in front of Etho’s base. She turned around, clearly relieved to see you.

“Etho’s sick.” That wasn’t good but you weren’t sure why that required your immediate arrival, Gem seemed to catch on to your unsaid question. “He’s refusing to believe he’s sick and won’t let anyone help him. Tango said he’s way too warm to just brush it off, and since Etho listens to you a little better than the rest of us I asked you to come.”

“I don’t know if he will on this, especially if he wants to get back to his redstone.” You followed Gem into Etho’s base and found him arguing with Tango and Pearl, both trying to get him to lay back down while Etho tried to get past them to work on whatever he felt was calling his name. Which left only one method that would maybe work.

“Etho?” He whipped around and smiled through his mask at you.

“Hey Y/n! Want to come look at my farms if Pearl and Tango would get out of the way?” You held up some papers.

“Actually, I have some plans I’ve been testing for a farm but I’m not sure if I have the numbers right. Would you mind looking over them with me?” Etho paused and his gaze flickered between you and the papers.

“Of course!” With that, your fate was sealed. Etho ushered you to the kitchen table and the papers were laid out and he started pouring over them, figuring it out in his head and mumbling it out. It didn’t take long to hear the effects of his fever. His rambling made no sense. Less sense than most of his redstone rambles. While he was talking, you gently placed your hand against his forehead. Etho froze before ever so slightly leaning against your hand.

Tango was right, he was burning up.

“Alright, that's enough. You need to get some rest, your fever is high.” Immediately Etho protested, “I’ll make you a deal. If you listen to what I tell you, I’ll take care of you. If you don’t, I’ll ask Doc too.” He weighed his choices. “Head to bed, I’ll be there in a minute with some things.” Etho jumped up and headed to his room, he was out cold when you went up three minutes later.

You took that time to get everything you needed together and make some light food for when he woke up. Knowing full well a sick Etho would take advantage of any open second to get away and go back to work and once he started it could be almost impossible to pull him away.

Etho was out until the next morning, and as predicted, he tried to escape out the window. Thankfully you had blocked all of them off so he couldn’t but he still tried. Begrudgingly, he accepted the tea and sipped on it slowly while he ate his soup.

When you checked his forehead, he leaned into your touch more than he had the day before, he was also quite a bit warmer then he had been. Hoping you were wrong, you gently pushed his hair off his forehead and kissed it. It was worse, though you were pretty sure the sudden flush in his cheeks was not from the fever.

Etho whined and complained when he was sentenced back to bed but immediately calmed down when you offered to read something to him. Settling down under a large pile of blankets he fell asleep to the fairy tale you were reading to him.

The next time he woke up, he was delirious and to make it worse, he kept trying to get up to go work on some redstone project. Nothing you tried would convince him to settle down and at least stay inside.

“You wanna know what will keep me inside?”

“Yes Etho, I do!” Etho’s expression morphed into something you weren’t sure you wanted to know and he leaned a little closer to whisper to you.”

“A kiss, and not on the cheek, it has to be on the lips and you have to cuddle with me.” Oh boy, you had a feeling you knew how this was going to end.”

“I will give you a kiss on the lips and cuddle with you, if you listen to me and you can collect it when you're better and no longer contagious.” He pouted at the last part but seemed to accept it as he settled back down in bed and fell back asleep.

Three days later, Etho was better and you left to go back to your base for the first time in 6 days. It was nice to finally shower in your own home, and it would be nice to finally get a full nights sleep again in your own bed.

What you didn’t expect was for someone to join you.

“It’s just me.” Etho. “I am here to collect my kiss and cuddles.” Of course Etho would remember that, why did you even agree to it i- Your thoughts were cut off by Etho pulling you closer to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Etho whispered before closing the space between your lips. It was a short kiss, but damn was it good. You could feel the questions in the air, questions you weren’t sure if you knew how to answer. So you did the only thing you could think of that could possibly answer a few of them without having to find the words.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you pulled him back for another one. You could feel his smirk through your kiss and his arms tightened around your waist.

“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with me.” He teased, before you could fire a response back he continued, a little more serious, “It’s ok though, I’m obsessed with you too.”

#ethoslab #hermitcraft etho #etholabs #etho #ethoslabs x reader #etho x reader #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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love-hs28 · 6 months ago

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It’s okay, you’re allowed to feel this way.

Having to stay after school for Chemistry help wasn't the most ideal situation to be in after having a bad day. And coming home to Peter being so nice makes it almost impossible to hold your emotions in. (You’re living with Peter, May, and Ben bc your parents died in an accident w. Peter's parents. Not important to the story but jsyk)

CW: Reader has panic attack & cries a bunch Hurt/Comfort & Fluff Reader's gender isn't specified 1.3k Words Posted on 5-25-24

My third post, ahhhh!! I cannot thank you guys enough for the love I've seen so far on my first two posts. PLEASE lmk what else you'd like to see! I hope you enjoy this one!!

You had to stay after school one day to get some extra help with your chemistry homework. You didn’t struggle much in your classes, but for some reason, your chemistry class had been giving you absolute hell all semester. It never seemed like you could get the hang of it, and just when you were starting to think you were understanding what was going on, a new concept would be introduced and your progress would restart from the beginning. Peter usually helps you with any tough classwork because he always seems to know what the teacher is going to teach before class even starts, but this time your teacher insisted that you stay after so you could get some ‘real’ help, whatever that meant. You’re pretty sure that if she was actually able to teach you better than Peter could you would have already asked her for help, but whatever.

You come home and slam the front door as you walk in. May and Ben are still at work and Peter is in the shed working on something for his suit, as he typically is after a school day. You kick your shoes off and angrily walk upstairs. Your bedroom door slams shut as you carelessly toss your backpack on the floor, sitting on the edge of your bed with your face in your hands. You’d felt anxious all day and having to stay after for fucking chemistry and still not understanding it definitely wasn’t helping. You try to control your breathing and just forget about the day and focus on the plans you had with Peter later.

Out in the shed, Peter could sense that you were home, (he also heard the front door slam), which meant that he could also tell that you weren’t in the best state. He set aside his spidey stuff and made his way into the house and to your room.

You hear a gentle knock on the door and Peter hesitantly saying your name. “Y/n? You in there?”

You sigh and look up. “Yeah.”

He cracks the door open and peaks in. “Can I come in?”

You muster a smile, “Sure.”

He comes in and shuts the door behind him. He gives a warm smile and comes over to give you a kiss and plops down next to you.

“Hey bub. How was your day?” He absentmindedly rubs your knee with his hand. You know he already knows how your day went and is just trying to be nice.

You sigh, “Shit. How was yours?”

He frowns and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Mine was boring. Much better now though; why was it bad?”

You sigh and stand up and begin to pace. “Well, as you know, I had to stay after for chem help and I’m sure you can guess how that went. I literally cannot fucking understand it no matter how hard I try and it gets so annoying because I’m good in like every other subject but that and I just don’t understand why.” You run your hands over your face and Peter is looking at you, concerned but attentive. “Not to mention the subway ride home was horrible; I had to sit across from this creepy fucking pedo who wouldn’t stop starting at me and he fucking winked at me when I got up to leave,” Tears start prickling in your eyes and your breathing gets heavy and uneasy. Peter notices this and you see that he’s about to get up and come over to you. “And to make it all worse, I saw a stray dog on the way home and he was just limping and I think he hurt his paw or something and I wanted to go help him but I didn’t know if he was a nice dog or whatever so I didn’t want to risk it but he looked so sad and helpless and I felt so bad and now I wanna go back and find him and help him or take him somewhere or something because it’s not fair that he has to be all alone and scared especially when it's getting so cold and I also think I’m about to start my period so that doesn’t fucking help and I’m just-” You’re fully crying now, on the verge of sobbing, and Peter comes over and wraps his arms around you. You bring your hands up to his chest and sob into his shirt while he gently rubs your back.

He guides the two of you over to your bed and you sit down, your body turned into him and his arms still around you. “It’s okay, honey. Let it out, I got you.”

You sob and your breath is coming in short gasps. Peter softly kisses your head over and over again to try and calm you down.

“I’m s-sorry. I don’t know w-why I’m such a m-mess.” You grip his shirt as tears stream down your face. You can feel him shake his head and gently shush you.

“Shh, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel this way, I’m right here.”

You let out another sob because he’s being so nice and his hand that's not on your back comes up to brush your hair out of your face. As always, when the tears start to die down, the uneven breathing picks up. Peter knows this pattern by now, and rubs your back more firmly.

“Deep breaths, baby. Follow my breathing, okay?” He exaggeratedly takes deep breaths while maintaining eye contact and you try your best to match the rise and fall of his chest, focusing on his heartbeat under your ear.

When your breathing eventually slows down, you pull back a bit to sit more upright and rub your eyes, hiccuping. Peter gently puts a hand on the side of your face and tilts it so you’re looking at him. He has a sad but loving look in his eyes that almost makes you want to start crying again. He uses his thumb to gently wipe the remaining tears on your face and kisses your forehead.

You lean your head to rest on his chest and he rests his head on top of yours. You take a few more deep breaths before leaning up again to look at him. He kisses your forehead once more and softly smiles.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. He holds you close to him as you breathe him in, the last step to really calming you down.

“Don’t thank me, Y/n/n. ‘s what I’m here for. I’m sorry your day was so shit, you don’t deserve that.”

You lightly shrug and lean back to softly kiss his lips. “You made it better, it’s okay.”

He smiles and tucks a hair behind your ear. “If you want, we can postpone our date tonight and just stay in and watch a movie. Whatever you want.”

You shake your head, “No, I think going out to do something will actually help. Get my mind off everything, y’know.”

He smiles and nods. “Good, because I’ve got something planned that you’re gonna loooveeee,” He says teasingly, and you laugh as he moves you both in a lying position.

“Oh really, what is it??” You rest your head on his chest and pull one of your legs up over his. He pulls the blanket over you two and takes your hand into his to play with his fingers.

“Nope, sorry bug, it’s a surprise.”

You giggle through your nose and snuggle into him. “Well, I’m very excited.”

He kisses your head once more and you lay there for a bit while he plays with your hair and rubs your back, and you’re finally at peace.

Hope you enjoyed! As always, please leave requests and such for me. Love you all <3

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milliesfishes · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ꣑ৎDon't Hurt Yourself౨ৎ꣑ৎ (Pray You Catch Me Part Three)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, panic attack, manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 3) author’s note: this is the longest one yet. I hope it's good <3 thanks for all the love and support. If I'm planning this correctly, there'll be one more chapter in this series, so lookout for that, I'll keep you updated. Let me know which song(s) off Lemonade you want for the last chapter. I've gotten suggestions for Jolene or Daughter too, might play around with that. Love and thanks <3 Series Pinterest Board Series Spotify Playlist

Whoever said a house divided against itself cannot stand was wrong. It can, but it’s not an easy house to live in. It’s only when someone sets fire to the house that it falls.

As you avoided him the next couple of weeks, you half hoped he missed you, but decided not to give it too much thought. He didn’t deserve that. The silent treatment, although childish, weaned results in your previous experience.

The day he was supposed to meet her came and went, and you were restless for all of your waking hours. Part of you wanted to confront him, the other, more stubborn part said to leave it. You’d made your statement. If he wanted you back then he’d have to make the first move.

It was peaceful existing outside his constant gaze. Having the whole bed to yourself was nice too. You didn’t have to curate what you wore to sleep, didn’t have to constantly make sure your expressions were pleasing to him.

Although you kind of missed his warm body next to yours. His hands reaching out in the night, making you feel wanted…

No. He didn’t want you. He wanted everything. He thought he could have everything. But as long as you were distant, he couldn’t.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how to continue from here. What does one do after they confront their husband about his cheating? It wasn’t like your mother had warned you about this. So you stayed quiet and stayed away.

As long as you were able to, at least.

There was a gala tonight, a big one, and even though you weren’t exactly on speaking terms, you knew it’d be bad for your image if you didn’t go together. It’d be the same as all these parties were, drinks and chatting mindlessly, pictures taken of you and Coriolanus together looking like the beautiful couple you pretended to be.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun with it.

So when you descended the stairs that night in a deep burgundy dress so red it was almost black, you held back a smirk at the look on your husband’s face. He was in his red suit, that red suit, the one you’d debated stuffing a pair of your panties into the pocket of, but decided against.

The dress was silk, falling off your shoulders with a high slit up the side that wasn’t visible until you walked. Your hair was curly, in its natural state, a way you hadn’t dared wear in front of him before. It was messy, but pretty, and you felt more yourself than you had in ages.

Coriolanus’ face was even, but his eyes betrayed him. They widened slightly, and that little mark of hunger flickered in his irises, just as you’d hoped. His eyes traveled from your legs to your waist, and landed on your hair. “I requested that you wear white.”

You stopped at the second to last step on the staircase. “Your request has been submitted.”

He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. You knew his possessive side was taking over, seeing you in the color he loved so much. Gracefully, you reached the bottom, and you both walked silently to the waiting car outside.

The ride was quiet, and you kept your eyes out the window, watching the trees and buildings pass you by. Your posture was perfect, your face void of any emotion. You were calm, but he didn’t know that, and it was delicious.

Coriolanus watched you shamelessly, but you did not once turn your head to look at him.

Once you arrived at the event at someone’s mansion, Coriolanus stepped out of the car, giving you a hand to help you out, and you took it, your hand sliding up to the crook of his arm. You made sure your face was set in a gracious smile. The president and his perfect wife. Your dress would certainly make headlines. You’d never worn anything this bold before, usually sticking to soft, light colors.

There were photographers everywhere, and you made sure to look up at Coriolanus lovingly, your stupid, foolish heart melting when you found he was looking at you the same way. It’s not real, you had to remind yourself. It. Isn’t. Real.

But oh…he was so handsome. And the way he held your hand in the cradle of his arm, made sure you didn’t trip over your dress as you went up the stairs…you hated yourself for the feelings coursing through you. He cheated on you.

As you entered the party, you struggled to put your emotions back in their box. Coriolanus wound his arm around your waist, signaling that you should stay close to him, but you ignored it, taking a glass of champagne and moving toward where some of the other wives had gathered.

Your husband caught you around the waist again, his fingers digging into your side. “Right by me, dove.” Coriolanus’ expression was firm, and his eyes bored a hole into you.

Tilting your head as your eyebrows raised, you took a sip of your drink. “I want to say hello. Be a good First Lady.”

“You can do that by keeping by my side,” he said coldly. His voice lowered so only you could hear. “I don’t care what you think you know, we have an image to maintain.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about image,” you said in a sharp whisper. “That's all we are.”

With that, you jerked yourself away, and this time you were too fast to stop him.

Talking with the other wives went exactly how you thought. Mindless gossip, compliments on your dress, tentative tactics on their part to try and figure out what went on behind the walls of the president’s mansion. You’d always enjoyed playing with them, giving them just enough ‘information’, but still keeping the secrecy that kept them interested. That was your job- to be interesting. To be an extension of Coriolanus, but better. Charming, beautiful, sweet.

Eventually, you tired of them, and returned to him, another champagne glass in hand. You would’ve had to eventually, and you wanted it to be on your own terms. He was speaking with a senator and his dark haired wife. As you approached them, he twined his arm back around your waist, greeting you with a dutiful kiss to your hairline, his eyes still on the senator as he rambled about district funding.

You smiled at his wife, knowing you’d have to engage in conversation with her while the men did. She smiled back, studying you, her careful eyes catching on your neck, on the burn mark that hadn’t fully healed yet. Your hair had been covering it up so far, but apparently on your walk over, it’d moved aside.

The dark haired woman frowned, and she looked at you, curiosity thinly veiled by feigned concern. “Whatever happened to your neck? It looks painful.”

The conversation between the two men halted, and they both looked at you. You allowed an innocent expression to take over your face, and you moved your hair modestly so the mark was covered again. “Oh…Coriolanus got a bit carried away is all,” you said, looking up at him with a sweet smile, your hand on the back of his shoulder. “Right, dearest?”

His mouth was firmly set as he looked down at you, eyes were hard. He’d had about enough of your behavior, and you could see it. But instead of yelling at you or gripping your waist tighter, he smirked.

Then he took your glass away. “That’s enough for you I think.” The senator laughed, and your husband drank the little champagne that was left.

You just watched him, your smile fading a bit. In a single motion, he’d taken the power back, made you look like a fool. Your cheeks flushed a bit, and you forced a smile onto your face, succumbing to his grip.

The next hour was a parade of pointless small talk and stillness on your part. This felt unfamiliar- you were usually sweet and chatty with all those you greeted, charming even the frostiest of figures.

This trait had always been a part of you, ever since you’d been inducted into Capitol society. Quickly, you’d learned you liked it when people liked you, and over the years, your charm had developed naturally. You suspected it was what drew him to you initially. The two of you had met at one of these types of parties after all.

When you and Coriolanus debuted your engagement, society had been no less than thrilled. Their beautiful effervescent debutante paired with the handsome up and coming politician. And when he’d become president within your first year of marriage, well, it was a supernova. The tabloids had dubbed you “Panem’s Princess” because of it.

You thought of that girl as you smiled listlessly at passerby, nodding along with whatever Coriolanus was saying, mourning the innocence you’d lost. That girl felt like a character in a book now, relatable, but far beyond your grasp. She’d been so hopeful, and he’d torn it all down.

Coriolanus squeezed your side briefly, and you smiled a little brighter, nodding at the man he was talking to like you’d been paying attention, hoping your demeanor wasn’t too noticeable.

Oh, who were you kidding? The papers would have a field day with this. They followed your every move at public events. Looking down at where Coriolanus’ hand was situated, slightly over your tummy, you could hear the headlines. FIRST LADY EXPECTED TO EXPECT! PANEM’S PRINCESS PREGNANT?

Not that it really mattered, you supposed. The rumors would die down. Your marriage wouldn’t.

Your husband excused himself with a whisper and a squeeze to your waist, and you didn’t watch him leave, not really caring in the moment where he went. Immediately, you were accosted by another wife, admonishing compliments on your dress.

“I’ve never seen you match with President Snow,” she said, smiling brightly. “Trying something new?”

You nodded, smiling back warmly. Panem’s Princess. “To be honest, it was a complete accident. But I wasn’t about to change.”

She laughed. “The two of you are so sweet. The entire country’s jealous of your relationship.”

Smile fading a bit, you excused yourself, apologizing to her as you did. The innocent comment opened the box of feelings you’d tried to kick aside. Pretending was agony. How was it going to get easier, acting like he loved you?

You stumbled into the hallway, darting just around a nearby corner for a moment of privacy, your back against the wall, the coolness of it breathing a little life into you. Breathing ragged, you rested your head against the wall, trying to regain your calm but it proved difficult.

If he’d truly never cared about you, this must have come easily. Jealousy overwhelmed you at the thought. As your mind wandered to the future, you were overwhelmed by the idea of thousands more of these events. Was it going to be this agonizing every time? This would be unbearable.

Thinking of before, you tried to come to a conclusion. Maybe you could be done avoiding him now. Surely he’d learned his lesson. You could move past this, learn to forgive him. Maybe, just maybe, if you allowed yourself to care about him again, it would be easier. It could be like before.

You’d decided to talk to him when you got home, when you heard voices around the corner, by where the door to the party was. It was Coriolanus, you realized. Curious, you listened closer, moving a little bit to the side to have a better vantage. That was him all right. Authoritative, but soft enough that you couldn’t really hear what he was saying. And then someone else started talking. A woman.

Immediately, you moved around the corner to see them, keeping yourself in the shadows. If he looked up, he’d see you, but his eyes were focused on the woman in front of him. The dark haired woman.

It was the senator’s wife. Them being alone together wasn’t enough to suspect anything. But the way he was looking at her.

Your eyes widened as you realized it. It’s her.

Coriolanus tilted her chin up as he said something quietly. His face was hardened, and he nodded once at her response. Then she went back into the party, leaving him alone. You forgot you were in a spot where he’d see you, frozen in place. Then he looked up, his sharp blue eyes piercing you.

The two of you were locked there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Then, without even realizing it, you moved toward him, anger making you faster.

Your hand moved of its own volition, yanking his collar so his face was close to yours. “What the fuck was that?”

He made no move to stop you. “Calm down, dove-”

The pet name only angered you further, and you pulled harder. “You were four feet from the door. Discretion isn’t your strong point, is it?”

Coriolanus pulled your hand off his collar, gripping it and suffocating your fingers. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“Save it,” you hissed, trying to pull your hand away. “Save it for her. She’s still under your spell.”

Your hand was freed, and you went back into the party, fury numbing you, objectives unclear. In a haze, you glided to her husband, greeting him sweetly. He excused himself from whom he was previously speaking immediately as you worked your charm on him, smiling brightly and laughing.

Then you touched his arm, moving just slightly closer. Enough for him to notice, enough for him to notice, but not enough for a nosy reporter to sell it into a story.

The senator looked pleased, and he gave you a tentative smile, opening his mouth to say something-

An arm claimed your waist for the millionth time tonight, and you were pulled into your husband’s chest, his other hand on the back of your neck, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder, hiding you from the world. The cool of his wedding ring was pressed against your skin

“Apologies, Senator,” Coriolanus said smoothly. “It seems my wife didn’t slow down on the champagne.”

You heard a faint chuckle, and then Coriolanus dropped his lips to the top of your head, hand smoothing over your curls. Since you hardly ever wore your hair like this, you knew he’d been dying to touch it all night.

The senator must have left, because he leaned down and whispered, “We’re leaving. Now.”

The walk back to the car was a blur as he pulled you through the crowd, and you kept up as gracefully as you could, hurrying down the stairs and nearly tripping over your dress. The second the door was shut, he turned to you, his face furious. “The next man you touch dies.”

You slapped him, an instant response. His face was unmoving, his glare stronger now. The anger simmered in both of you.

“Try not to hurt yourself,” you spat, your other hand balling into a fist, nails digging into your palm.

His hands were around your wrists in a flash. “You are mine. After everything I’ve given you, everything-”

“What about what I’ve given you?” you retorted, your hair falling forward over your shoulders as you looked up at him. “You really think you could’ve done anything without my image? I’m Panem’s Princess. Without me you’re just a man who got lucky.”

“Don’t you go there,” he said coolly, gripping your wrists tighter. But you could tell your words had gotten to him, hit him right in the ego.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You leaned closer to him. “You know as well as I do that you’re well liked. But I’m adored. You’re too caught up in your own image to realize I’m helping you more than you ever did me.”

The car stopped in front of the mansion, and you got out, pulling your wrists away, kicking off your shoes and picking them up, walking up the stairs, not caring if he followed but knowing he would.

As the door shut behind the both of you, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him. “Tonight had better be an anomaly. You show up in this dress, flirt with someone beneath me and think you can get away with it?”

“I could say the exact same thing to you,” you scoffed, almost laughing. “Everyone thinks you’re something to be afraid of, but all I see is a little boy who thinks he can have it all.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset by any of this,” he said frustratedly, and you scoffed again, looking away in disbelief. “You knew the terms of this marriage. It’s not like I hurt you.”

You were silent, staring at him, waiting for him to figure it out. It took him one minute, and it was one minute longer than you’d have liked. His face fell slightly as he realized, his eyes widening slightly. “You…you…”

There were hot tears in your eyes, and you cursed yourself for it. Stupid, stupid feelings. Stupid, beautiful man.

“I thought…you cared about me,” you said, your voice only breaking a little, holding strong. “Not loved. Cared. And I was wrong. So wrong.”

Coriolanus shook his head and released your wrists, stepping toward you a little. “I do care about you…”

You shook your head, looking up at him, a single cursed tear falling down your cheek. “I don’t know if you care about anyone. Not me, not her, nobody. You’re the king of everything…” you spread your arms out wide for a second, letting them fall to your sides. “But being at the top isn’t what you thought it’d be.”

He kept quiet for once.

Closing your eyes, you brought a hand to your brow, trying to breathe steadily. All the emotion and panic from the night was encircling you, backing you into a tighter and tighter spot.

Seeing him with her…his hand on her chin…how many times has he seen her since…I don’t want him…I want him…he cheated…

Your legs grew weak, and you dropped your shoes, collapsing to your knees, chest heaving and ears ringing. Your nails dug into your palms, trying to capture the tension there, but failing. He was on the ground next to you in an instant, hand on your back. You shook your head, trying to push him away. “Don’t…please don’t…”

Coriolanus ignored you, hand rubbing your back, trying to soothe you through it. He said your name softly, and you shook your head again. “Please go…”

You were trying to stay angry, trying to keep yourself the confident, intimidating woman he’d seen all night…but it’d all broken you down. Despite it all, despite the cheating and lying, you cared. You cared too much. It was worthless to pretend, too exhausting to have any kind of facade. And so you fell…fell back into his arms where you’d begun.

He held you close to his chest, his hand pressing your head to him, your ear right over his heart. The steady beating of it calmed you, and you clung to him, gasping for air. Coriolanus dug his nose into your hair, taking in deep breaths that encouraged you to do the same. His thumb rubbed the space between your ear and your hair, his other arm secured protectively around you.

Gradually your breathing became regular again, but you still held tight to him. He was all you had right now.

“Stay with me tonight love,” he murmured, staying perfectly still as you rested against him. “You never have to again. But…”

“I hate you,” you breathed shakily.

“I know, love,” he nudged his nose against your head. “I know. Stay with me.”

“If you ever do this again I’ll leave you,” you vowed softly, meaning it. “I’ll leave you…and you’ll never find me…”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he muttered, and you felt his ring against your skin again. “Stay with me tonight love.”

Love. You were too exhausted to argue, and you just slumped against him, letting him hold you close.

Half of your brain screamed at you to pull yourself away, to stand firm, to divide the house between you even further, make it crumble. But the softer part felt how gently he held you, how he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hoisting you into his arms as he stood up, carrying you up the stairs.

He cheated, he cheated, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated.

His bed was so familiar, and you’d missed it. Missed his scent surrounding you, his arms around you as you drifted off.

He cheated.

Does he regret it?

Does it matter?

Lovelovelovelove.

A house set on fire cannot stand.

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